I like to donate blood. I can't say that I enjoy the process thought by any means. It's a lengthy process, at least here on the Navy Yard. If you're not the first one lined up, it could take upwards of an hour and a half. I'm always amazed at how many people you will find at a blood drive. Especially the ones who do it on a regular basis. Sometimes, the people are known by name because they come so often. I'll never forget the first time I gave blood. I was nervous, not knowing what to expect. I went through the prescreening, found out my blood pressure, my temperature and my iron levels. Then I sat in a room and waited for my interview. The process took a lot longer than I expected. After the interview I went to go wait to be assigned a chair. I got to chair to have my left arm stabbed. The phlebotomist looked at my left arm, felt for a vein, then went to my right arm and felt for my vein again. He said I had a better vein in my right arm and, since it was my first time, he recommended that I wait for a chair with a right arm donation. I went to the next available chair and the phlebotomist was Mr. Personality. It was like talking to a wall. He prepped my arm and got ready to stick the needle in my arm. I decided to look. Big mistake. Don't get me wrong, I'm not afraid of needles. I just don't like looking as it's being shoved into my skin. And the size of that needle was bigger and any butterfly needle I had ever seen. So he sticks me and I'm fascinated as I see the bags filling up. It really is a cool process. He placed a squeeze ball in my hand and told me to gently squeeze every 5-10 seconds. Me, being the over achiever than I am sometimes, was happily squeezing the ball about every 1-2 seconds. At one point, it looked like the flow had stopped and so he shoved the needle further up into my vein. During this time, I was beginning to feel cold and clammy. I'm pretty sure I paled. He looked at me, asked if I was alright and when I said no, he immediately got out an ice pack, tilted my chair back and placed the ice pack on the back of my head. He asked if I wanted to continue the donation and I said yes. After he finished up, he informed me that I had to sit in the chair for about 10 minutes before I could get up. So I sat there and I could already see the bruise forming on my arm form when the needle had been shoved up into my vein. Needless to say I have a bruise for weeks afterwards. I walked away and said I would never donate blood again. Since then I have donated about 4-5 times. I realized that it was a momentary light affliction and that there are other people (soldiers in fact) who may need this donation.
As always with my ramblings, I am taking this story and seeing how I can apply it to my own life through Christ's example. His Blood wasn't a donation - if was a gift, a free gift. And he went willingly and put up with a lot more than a needle prick. If you hear advertisements for blood centers, you'll often hear how there is a blood shortage as well and so donors are needed more than ever. But with Jesus, there is no shortage of his mercy and grace - which we so desperately need - and are provided through the blood he shed. Just like people willingly line up to donate a pint of their blood for our troops, Jesus willingly went to the cross to offer up his life for us, so that we could gain eternal life through him.
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