A Bloody Gift

I was at work when the call came. Her voice sounded young. As she spoke I detected a lot of anxiety. I waited to see what was to come next.

Trying hard to be calm, she said, "Pastor, my father is in the University Hospital. He is 87 years old and he is having emergency surgery tonight. He needs blood donors and my cousin, who has been attending your church, told me to give you a call. She thought you might be able to help."

The woman went on to tell me that she lived out of town and had come home to do some wash and rest a bit, then she was planning to return to the hospital. I promised to try to get blood donors and asked permission to pray with her over the phone. She agreed, so we prayed together.

When we finished she was weeping softly. "Thank you," she said. Then she added, "Pastor, my father is not saved. Can you help? Daddy is a good man, but he is lost. I don't want him to go to hell when he dies. I don't think I could take that . . ."

Tears were now flowing freely and unashamedly. I thought of Jesus weeping over Jerusalem for very similar reasons (Matthew 23:37, 38). I asked my caller if she was a Christian by spiritual birth. She was. We again prayed together for her father, believing God for his salvation and committed him to God's care and keeping.

After we hung up I made a few phone calls and five people told me they would be glad to donate blood. I quickly rearranged my own schedule, locked the office door, and left immediately. In making my usual rounds of the hospitals to visit the sick I would go to Baptist Hospital first, then St. Agnes and Mercy hospitals, and finally end up at University Hospital about 4:30 p.m.

At the University Hospital information desk a cheerful lady in pink directed me to the second floor where the man's room was located. In those days the hospital had its own blood bank and from where I was standing I could see the door to it. I decided to give a pint of blood before going up to see the patient.

It was after 5 p.m. when I stepped off the elevator. I walked to the end of the hallway and into a large room containing several beds that were separated only by thick blue curtains. I asked a nurse about the patient. She pointed toward a blue curtain that was drawn completely around a bed.

"They are preparing him for surgery," she said. "As soon as they are finished you may see him."

I prayed while I waited.

When they finished prepping him, I stepped inside the blue curtain and introduced myself to this total stranger. Other than being human, male, and dearly loved by God, we had nothing else in common.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I'm a pastor," I replied.

"A what?"

"A pastor⎯you know, a preacher. I pastor a church."

"Oh," he said. "I went to church once when my baby daughter got married . . . ain't been back since."

All at once, his daughter pulled the curtain aside and stepped inside. "Daddy, I'm back!" she said cheerfully. Her father smiled and took her into his arms. After a long embrace, she straightened up, extended her hand toward me and said, "I'm the baby daughter. On my way up I stopped by the blood bank and they told me you gave blood for Daddy. Thank you!"

She turned toward her father. "Daddy, the pastor here gave blood for you a little while ago." The old man looked at me. A quizzical expression came across his face. Then he spoke.

"You gave blood for someone you did know⎯hadn't even met or seen?" he asked.

The daughter spoke up before I could answer, "That's not all, Daddy. He has five friends that are giving blood for you. We have enough for your surgery."

The old man was overwhelmed. We cried together. Through his tears the old man said, "I've never had anyone to give their blood for me before."

Sensing God's timing and the nudge of the Holy Spirit, I nervously replied, "I know of someone else who gave His blood for you."

"Who?" asked the old man.

"His name is Jesus. Would you like to know more about Him and how He gave His blood for you?"

When he answered yes, I began.

"The Bible says, 'the life of the flesh is in the blood.' We all know what that means. We must have blood flowing through our veins to continue living the natural or physical life. That's the reason for blood donors and blood transfusions."

The old man agreed, so I continued: "However, some may not know that the Bible says we also have a spiritual life to live. That is, within our body lives our spirit."

"I've never thought of it that way," he responded, "but I believe what the Bible says about it."

I went on to explain that our spirit is the part of us that continues as a being after our body dies. When our body dies, is buried, and returns to the dust, our spirit will continue to live in one of two places⎯paradise or hell.

"Paradise or heaven," I explained, "is eternal life. It means living forever with Jesus Christ in a place He has prepared⎯a place that abounds with good things! But, hell⎯which is eternal death⎯is a place of torment and unquenchable fire. It means being forever separated from Jesus Christ. The blood that flowed through the veins of Jesus Christ was the life of the incarnate Christ. The blood that He shed was for the salvation of all. People give blood so people may live physically, but that's temporary. Jesus gave His blood that people may live spiritually, and that's eternal."

I stopped to ask my new friend if he understood what I was saying. He said that he did. So I ventured another question:

"Would you like to have eternal life?"

"More than anything else," was his reply.

I shared with him six steps to salvation that I have shared with many others:

•Acknowledge that you are a sinner (Romans 3:23).
•Repent (turn away from) of your sins (Luke 13:3; Acts 3:19).
•Confess your sin and acknowledge Christ as your Lord (1 John 1:9; Romans 10:9).
•Forsake the sins you have confessed and repented of⎯the old lifestyle (Isaiah 55:7).
•Believe in Jesus Christ (John 3:16; Mark 16:16).
•Receive Jesus Christ (John 1:11, 12; Revelation 3:20).

In a matter of moments, He did all of these! But our rejoicing was interrupted as the hospital staff came to take him to surgery.

In a few days, the old man was out of the hospital and his baby daughter took him to her home.

Me? In a few days I moved to California.

Father, thank You is hardly enough to say to One who gave His Son for us. Words are insufficient, Lord Jesus, to express our gratefulness for the gift of Your innocent blood, shed for me. So I say only this: We are yours. Do with us as you will . . .