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.
