My Bloody Day

Blood. It’s one of those unpleasantries in life.

As a mom or dad you probably see more than your fair share. As a woman, you see more than most doctors in your earthly existence.

Some people want to toss their cookies when they see it. Others may pass out cold. To odd balls (like me), it is kind of fascinating. Like you don’t really want to see it but you do at the same time.

Today I had a bloody day. No, I am not getting too personal with you. Geez. Who do you take me for? And no, I am not trying to sound like a Briton or Aussie either. 🙂

I began my day with a not-so-lovely reading from the book of Leviticus (part of my through the bible in a year thing). So NOT what to read before breakfast. Blood, blood, and more blood. Words like: slaughter, sacrifice, scapegoat. Then there are the “to do/don’t dos”: sprinkle it, wipe it, burn it, (don’t) drink it.

The highlight of my day was giving blood. No, really- I LOVE giving. It makes me happy to know that my bag o’ red stuff cold save someone’s life. It did mine, once, after a surgery required two units for me to survive the night. I marvel watching the pencil lead sized needle go into my arm and take just a tiny piece of me. Call me crazy.

As I sat there, I thought about blood, what I had read that morning in all its grotesqueness. The Israelites were instructed not to drink the blood of any animal ever because it is the life of the creature. Without it, we cannot live. People all over the world die for lack of what we are so blessed to have readily available here in the U.S.

I thought about the blood of Jesus that makes us clean. The sticky, thick, smelly substance coming from me into that plastic bag, might give someone else life. God gave us life through the murder of His Son. His red human blood came out of his side and ran down His forehead from where they beat the thorns down into his skin.It came out the piercings of both His hands and feet after they drove spikes through. He died, so I could live: the perfect sacrificial, life giver.

So, keeping true to the theme of my day, I ended it with… you guessed it-  more BLOOD.

My youngest lost a molar tonight and the blood flowed freely into the bathroom sink.  Poor boy is “a lot” a bit squeamish (like his dad). I rubbed his back and told him to breathe (like a good mom).

I end today thankful for my bloody day, reminded that without it, I’d be LOST; not just physically, but spiritually as well.

2 thoughts on “My Bloody Day”

  1. Thank you for that..
    It is by The Blood we are saved… I am so blessed by you sister. I eagerly await to read more.
    In the grip of His grace,
    Tonya Gayle

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