Perhaps you
can guess from the design of this blog, the clothing I’ve worn in the
photographs, and some of the flowers in my flower pots, I love the color red.
That hasn’t always been true. For much of my life I favored blue to match my
eyes or peach—the opposite on the color wheel—for a contrasting color. If you
saw my closet, you might think that I am in mourning from all the black that
resides there. But it’s red—red is my color of choice. I’m not exactly sure
why. It simply grabs my attention, brightens me up, adds some spizzerink to
life.
This week I was reminded of another
way that red brings life. My husband is an apheresis donor—instead of giving
whole blood, he makes a platelet donation. To honor donors, the area American
Red Cross held a special dinner. The room was full of hundreds of donors and
guests. Those recognized were predominantly men, who are particularly sought after
because there are usually fewer complications with their platelets. Gentleman
after gentleman received recognition, some having donated as many as 400 times!
It dawned on me—and if it hadn’t, the Red Cross was eager to remind me and everyone—that
the room I sat in was full of heroes, including the one I sat beside. No doubt,
each one had saved a life or given another birthday or anniversary to someone
who was ill.
As I marveled and applauded, I
couldn’t help but think of another man who poured out blood as well. Whereas
the donors at the Red Cross dinner gave multiple times to help those who
continued to have need, he gave everything he had only once. It was efficacious
for anyone who wanted it, and once was enough to change someone’s life forever.
His name was Jesus.
While I watched photos of those making donations in the
controlled comfort of a recliner, covered in blankets, asleep, or watching a
movie, I thought of the nakedness and agony of Christ, as the blood rushed out
of him and then slowed to a drip-drop, divine red splashing onto the soil
beneath his feet.
He is my Hero.
In the past few months I’ve read the
Old Testament record of the building of the Temple. When it was finished, there
was a huge sacrifice of animals. The account and those like it in other places
that describe animal sacrifices are hard for me to read. I can’t help picturing
the blood, the red, red blood. Then it hits me again. God hates sin. He hates—abhors—sin.
We have a cavalier approach to sin and rarely think deeply, if at all, about
the holiness of God and what it takes to wash away sin. Costly, costly
redemption.
Yes, I love red, especially the red
blood of Jesus that washes away my sin. He truly is my Hero!
What a great thought, to give blood like Christ.
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