The gospel simply
Posted by: root <root@...>
Your Sons Blood
The day is over, you are driving home. You tune in your radio.
You hear
a little blurb about a little village in India where some villagers have
died suddenly, strangely, of a flu that has never been seen before. It's
not influenza, but three or four people are dead, and it's kind of
interesting, and they're sending some doctors over there to investigate
it. You don't think much about it, but on Sunday, coming home from
church, you hear another radio spot. Only they say it's not three
villagers, it's 30,000 villagers in the back hills of this particular
area of India, and
it's on TV that night. CNN runs a little blurb; people are heading there
from the disease center in Atlanta because this disease strain has never
been seen before.
By Monday morning when you get up, it's the lead story. For it's not
just India; it's Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iran, and before you know it,
you're hearing this story everywhere and they have coined it now as "the
mystery flu". The President has made some comment that he and everyone
are praying and hoping that all will go well over
there. But everyone is wondering, How are we going to contain it?
That's when the President of France makes an announcement that shocks
Europe. He is closing their borders. No flights from India, Pakistan, or
any of the countries where this thing has been seen. And that's why that
night you are watching a little bit of CNN before going to bed. Your
jaw hits your chest when a weeping woman is translated from a
French news program into English: There's a man lying in a hospital in
Paris dying
of the mystery flu. It has come to Europe.
Panic strikes. As best they can tell, once you get it, you have it for
a week before you know it. Then you have four days of unbelievable
symptoms. And then you die. Britain closes it's borders, but it's too
late. South Hampton, Liverpool, North Hampton, and it's Tuesday morning
when the President of the United States makes the following
announcement: "Due to a national security risk, all flights to and from
Europe and Asia have been canceled. If your loved ones are overseas, I'm
sorry. They cannot come
back until we find a cure for this thing."
Within four days our nation has been plunged into an unbelievable
fear. People are selling little masks for your face. People are talking
about "What if it comes to this country," and preachers on Tuesday are
saying, "It's the scourge of God." It's Wednesday night and you are at a
church prayer meeting when somebody runs in from the parking
lot and says, "Turn on a radio, turn on a radio." And while the church
listens to a little transistor radio with a microphone stuck up to it,
the announcement is made: "Two women are lying in a Long Island
hospital dying from the mystery flu."
Within hours it seems, this thing just sweeps across the country. People
are working around the clock trying to find an antidote. Nothing is
working. California, Oregon, Arizona, Florida, Massachusetts. It's as
though it's just sweeping in from the borders. And then, all of a sudden
the news comes out. The code has been broken. A cure can be found. A
vaccine can be made. It's going to take the blood of somebody who hasn't
been infected, and so, sure enough, all through the Midwest, through all
those channels of emergency
broadcasting, everyone is asked to do one simple thing: Go to your
downtown hospital and have your blood type taken. That's all we ask of
you.
When you hear the sirens go off in your neighborhood, please make your
way quickly, quietly, and safely to the hospitals. Sure enough, when you
and your family get down there late on that Friday night, there is a
long line, and they've got nurses and
doctors coming out and pricking fingers and taking blood and putting
labels
on it. Your wife and your kids are out there, and they take your blood
type and
they say, "Wait here in the parking lot and if we call your name, you
can be dismissed and go home."
You stand around, scared, with your neighbors, wondering what in the
world is going on and if this is the end of the world. Suddenly a young
man comes running out of the hospital screaming. He's yelling a name and
waving a clipboard. What? He yells it again! And your son tugs on your
jacket and says, "Daddy, that's me." Before you know it, they have
grabbed your boy. Wait a minute. Hold on! And they say, "It's okay, his
blood is
clean. His blood is pure. We want to make sure he doesn't have the
disease. We
think he has got the right type." Five tense minutes later, out come the
doctors and nurses, crying and hugging one another - some are even
laughing. It's the first time you have seen anybody laugh in a week, and
an old doctor walks up to you and says, "Thank you, sir. Your son's blood
type is perfect. It's clean, it is pure, and we can make the
vaccine."
As the word begins to spread all across that parking lot full of folks,
people are screaming and praying and laughing and crying. But then the
gray-haired doctor pulls you and you wife aside and says, "May we see
you for a moment? We didn't realize that the donor would be a minor and
we need...we need you to sign a consent form." >You begin to sign and
then you see that the number of pints of blood to be taken is empty.
"H-how many pints?" And that is when the old doctor's smile fades and he
says, "We had no idea it would be a little child. We weren't prepared. We
need it all!"
"But-but...You don't understand." "We are talking about the
world here. Please sign. We-we need it all!"
"But can't you give him a transfusion?"
"If we had clean blood we would. Can you sign? Would you
sign?" In numb silence, you do. Then they say, "Would you like to have a
moment with him before we begin?"
Can you walk back? Can you walk back to that room where he
sits on a table saying, "Daddy? What's going on?" Can you take his hands
and
say, "Son, I love you, and I would never ever let anything, happen to
you that didn't just have to be. Do you understand that?"
And when that old doctor comes back in and says, "I'm sorry,
we've - we've got to get started. People all over the world are dying."
Can you leave?
Can you walk out while he is saying, "Dad? Dad? Why - why
have you forsaken me?"
And then next week, when they have the ceremony to honor your
son, and some folks sleep through it, and some folks don't even come
because they go to the lake, and some folks come with a pretentious
smile and just pretend to care.
Would you want to jump up and say, "MY SON DIED FOR YOU!
DON'T YOU CARE?"
Is that what GOD wants to say? "MY SON DIED FOR YOU. DON'T
YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I CARE?"
"Father, seeing it from your eyes breaks our hearts. Maybe now we can
begin to comprehend the great Love you have for us." Your son died for
us so that we can have forgiveness and eternal life.