Thoughts on Donating Blood

There was a time when doctor-to-be Kirsten was terrified of giving blood.

It wasn't the blood thing or the needle thing--I've had my fair share of both. I just have this irrational fear of passing out. For this reason, for the fact that I am almost under the weight limit, and for past issues related to borderline anemia and hypoglycemia, I always told myself I couldn't donate blood.

Last year, things changed. I started volunteering with Carolina Pediatric Attention Love and Support (CPALS), which is a program that offers respite, play and companionship to pediatric patients who have life threatening hematologic/oncologic diseases. I saw kids from ages 1 to 21 go through all kinds of scary stuff. I saw the fear in the childrens' eyes when they were called into an examination room. I heard the pain when nurses accessed patients' ports. I witnessed some children get weaker and weaker each week as the chemo exerted its effects on their bodies. And through it all, I was amazed and inspired by the resilience of each child.

Then there was my pal, who had a blood disorder. In honor of him and the rest of the patients I met, I finally gathered the courage to at least attempt to donate blood. I'll spare the details, but the experience turned out to be a little dramatic--a combination of anxiety and my body not being happy about the loss of blood. I sort of expected that. But what I didn't expect was the awesome realization and connection I had with Jesus. 

As I sat in the donation chair watching my blood leave my body, flow through a tube and into the collection bag, I was struck by the weight of what I was doing. Albeit in a very controlled environment, I was shedding my blood (1 pint, to be exact) so that others may live (up to 3 lives, according to the Red Cross). Sound familiar? Maybe a tiny, tiny bit? I couldn't help but remember Jesus' words to his disciples, "Drink from it, all of you. This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins." (Mt26:27-28). Even though I in my humanity could only offer this miniscule sacrifice, I understood in a more tangible way than ever before what this mirrored: Christ, who loves us so much that he shed all of his blood on the cross so that we could truly live:

^"Surely he took up our pain
and bore our suffering,
yet we considered him punished by God,
stricken by him, and afflicted.
But he was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was on him,
and by his wounds we are healed."
Isaiah 53:4-5

What I hope that you and I take from this is to realize that our Father in Heaven loves us more than we can ever know or comprehend. But we can begin to understand this in sacrificing our own lives for others, however that may look. Maybe it's a career decision. Maybe it's buying a meal for the homeless lady we pass by every day. Maybe it's simply a kind word or note to a friend. Maybe it's donating blood. In being Christ to others, God will certainly reveal himself to us more and more.

"Hearts that are "fit to break" with love for the Godhead are those who have been in the Presence and have looked with opened eye upon the majesty of Deity. Men of the breaking hearts had a quality about them not known to or understood by common men. They habitually spoke with spiritual authority. They had been in the Presence of God and they reported what they saw there. They were prophets, not scribes: for the scribe tells us what he has read, and the prophet tells us what he has seen. The distinction is not an imaginary one. Between the scribe who has read and the prophet who has seen, there is a difference as wide as the sea. We are today overrun with orthodox scribes; but the prophets, where are they? The hard voice of the scribe sounds over evangelicalism, but the Church waits for the tender voice of the saint who has penetrated the veil and has gazed with inward eye upon the Wonder that is God."

-A.W. Tozer

Psalm 136

This Sunday we had church service at the Old Well with Love Chapel Hill.  The sermon came from Psalm 136, which begins with the line, "Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good.  His love endures forever."

One aspect of God's goodness, according to Matt's sermon, is that God's heart bends toward us. Not only is he great, mighty, sovereign, and just, but he is also good, and this is manifested in his love, grace, mercy, and forgiveness.  Of course, we see God's ultimate demonstration of his goodness when his Son dies on the cross for our sins.  This is the ultimate bending of God's heart: that he couldn't stand to be a distant God, but rather he became human in order to fix what had been broken beyond repair.  Philipians 2:6-8 says this about Christ:

Who, being in very nature God,

did not consider equality with God something to be grasped,

but made himself nothing,

taking the very nature of a servant,

being made in human likeness.

And being found in appearance as a man,

he humbled himself

and became obedient to death--

even death on a cross!

A God who gave all of himself out of love for his people--this is the kind of God I can't help but worship.

There's a Worm in my...MCAT Score?

God may allow His servant to succeed when He has disciplined him to a point where he does not need to succeed to be happy. The man who is elated by success and is cast down by failure is still a carnal man. At best his fruit will have a worm in it.

-A.W. Tozer

I came to college with the attitude that my presence at UNC was all my own doing.  After all, I was the one who did the studying, took the tests, and wrote the essays, right? There was also a causal relationship between the number of A's on my transcript and the degree to which I felt fulfilled or satisfied with my life. 

This mentality was definitely shattered in my first year at Carolina.  The second semester of freshman year, in my mind, was a disaster.  I tried to blame my grades on outside circumstances: I hadn't adjusted to college life and academics, I had a distracting roommate ordeal, etc.  Looking back, however, I truly believe it was God who took away those A's that I so desperately wanted.  And rightly so, for they were distracting his daughter from love that truly satisfies. 

I was basically trading the unconditional, infinite, and pure love of the Lord for the rotten, temporary satisfaction of the letter A on a piece of paper.  I believe A.W. Tozer is right, that at best, my fruit always had a worm in it.  Even when I did receive those good grades  and achieve relative success, this success was overshadowed by the fact that my work was not done in Christ.  I sought success to glorify myself and not to glorify the One who made me and gave me a brain to learn in the first place.

Hosea 2:5-8 seems to be speaking directly to me:

She said, I will go after my lovers, who give me my food and my water, my wool and my linen, my oil and my drink. Therefore I will block her path with thornbushes; I will wall her in so that she cannot find her way. She will chase after her lovers but not catch them; she will look for them but not find them. Then she will say, 'I will go back to my husband as at first, for then I was better off than now.' She has not acknowledged that I was the one who gave her the grain, the new wine and oil, who lavished on her the silver and gold -- which they used for Baal.

The interesting thing about my grades is that once I stopped obsessing over them and began fixing my eyes whole-heartedly on the Lord, he began to redeem those grades.  Once I acknowledged that neither an A nor an F could distract me from Christ's love, he actually started working in that aspect of my life.  Jesus tells us not to worry about our lives (Luke 12:22), that he will take care of us, but do we really believe this?  He tells us, "Do not set your heart on what you will eat or drink; do not worry about it.  For the pagan world runs after all such things, and your Father knows that you need them.  But seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well" (Luke 12:29-31).

This summer I began studying for the MCAT, but because of my history with worshiping academics as an idol, I have even in the past month been tempted to believe that my admission to medical school depends solely on how hard I work and what I can do but not at all on God. It is so easy to set my heart again on the grades and the numbers, and not on the One who has already made a plan for my life.

How freeing it is to know that if this is God's will for me, all I need to do is continue pursuing him with all I've got!  Of course God wants me to study too, but if my heart's loyalties remain with the Lord, he has me set for eternity!

Garbage-Canned Grace

Usually we throw out that which has been consumed or which no longer serves a purpose.  A pen devoid of ink.  An orange peel.  The remnants of a broken drinking glass.  I believe most would agree that these items are garbage-can worthy (although the orange peel could technically be composted, and the glass could be recycled, but I digress) and would hardly object to discarding them.

Because of the great surplus of stuff that accumulates in many American households, including my own, many have developed the wasteful habit of throwing away items that we simply no longer desire to use.  A perfectly functional but out-of-style cell phone.  The uneaten portion of an overfilled dinner plate.  Old yet barely worn clothing.  As many have done already, I have recently become conscious of my wastefulness and that of others.  Now, I become frustrated and angry when I see food being discarded; the simple act of throwing away a one-day-overripe banana makes me feel horrible.  Had I just eaten the banana the day before, this could have been prevented.  Or, I could have simply bought less bananas, saved money, and then given the money to someone who needs the resources more than me. They'd appreciate it more than I would, anyway.  The thing I've observed about those with less resources is they usually don't squander them like the rest of us.

Despite my attentiveness to how much is thrown away around me, I have failed to notice the extent to which I recklessly throw God's grace, which he's lavished on me through Jesus' blood, in the garbage can.  By doing this, I am basically telling Christ that his death was cheap and worthless to me.

I've seen this occur in several areas of my life.  For one, instead of receiving God's grace and actually believing it's enough, I look to the things around me to satisfy me.  I fix my eyes and my heart on obtaining approval from others, on controlling my life, and on what I have, and I ignore the cross, because it just isn't good enough.  I fail to love others in a way that honors the Lord's enduring and unconditional love for me.  What's more is that what little grace I do manage to embrace I keep to myself because I fail to share the Gospel with others.

Jesus' blood was not shed frivolously.  God took his love for us, wrapped it in flesh and blood, and nailed it to the cross in order to redeem us and buy back our hearts, which had become slaves to the brokenness of the world.  God paid the highest possible price for our ransom, yet he requires nothing of us.  We can receive his infinite grace--for free! 

My hope is that myself and others will no longer squander the Lord's grace, because although it is free and infinite, it was not cheap. 

I also pray that we all will be knocked upside the head by the weight of God's extraordinary glory and grace, "which he has freely given us in the One he loves.  In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God's grace that he lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding." (Ephesians 1: 6-8)

 :)