My father is losing blood at the time of this writing.  No one knows why.  No one seems terribly worked up about it, though; doctors are on the case, he is well supervised, the issue (accidental pun alert) is being addressed and will soon be resolved.

I’m not worried.  Really.  Not worried.  The face I am wearing now is the face of me not being worried.

Still, blood is life.  Genesis 9:4 told us that thousands of years before science caught up.  I understand that most of us have considerably more blood than we actually need.  But we can’t live with less than we actually need.  Not for long, anyway.

It unites us, this connection to blood.  God made us all “from one,” according to Acts 17:26.  Some versions read, “from one blood.”  The DNA of Adam and Eve flows through every vein and artery in every human who has ever lived.  That connection is even closer with family.  “Blood” is sometimes used as a figure of speech for close family ties; sometimes close friends slice open their hand and the hand of a friend, allowing blood to pass from one to the other, making them “blood brothers.”  Sharing blood is sharing life.

That naturally brings us to Jesus, who gave His blood to give us life.  We are redeemed “with precious blood, as of a lamb unblemished and spotless, the blood of Christ” (1 Peter 1:19).  We, sinful as we are, can be “justified by His blood” (Romans 5:9).

Losing blood is never a good thing.  Thanks be to God, we can be the beneficiaries of the most tragic blood loss ever.

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