Without the Shedding of Blood..

Last Monday, I went into the doctor’s office to get the results of my latest blood test. It had been a while since my last check up, and my doctor told me that I have developed Type 2 Diabetes. This requires that I make some changes to my diet and lifestyle– more veggies, more exercise, less pasta and fewer desserts– and pay close attention to my blood sugar levels. Every day, I have to prick my finger and get at least one drop of blood on a test strip, and feed that into a glucose meter. It takes just about a minute, and just one drop of blood, but it has to happen every day.

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Millions of people around the world deal with diabetes, and I am so grateful that we caught it, and that it can be managed with these few changes. But I was surprised at how much I resented the daily “prick.” It is not painless, but it is not difficult, either. Still, I resisted, even when my husband offered marvelous support and help. I know this is part of what it will take to keep me healthy, but oh how I miss the freedom I took for granted just days ago!

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It got me thinking of the ritual sacrifices that were set up for the nation of Israel. Every day, animals were not just “pricked,” but slaughtered–their blood poured out and their flesh burned–to represent the atonement necessary for sin. Hebrews 9:22 says that “without the shedding of blood, there is no remission.” There is no way to be made right with God without the shedding of blood. And the blood of rams and lambs, while it represents the atonement we seek, is inadequate to cleanse our souls of the stain of sin. Our own blood is tainted with sin in exactly the way my blood is tainted with glucose. My blood is not only imperfect, it is unpredictable, and even poisonous, if left untreated. And even with the “shedding of blood” every day to check my glucose levels, there is no “remission”; the only way to treat my condition is to have a change– a permanent and drastic change– in my lifestyle. For Sin, there is only the shedding of perfect blood applied to my condition that can make me whole.

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Though I have to shed blood every day to check on my blood sugar, I don’t have to shed blood every day for my Sin condition. But I do have to accept that Christ paid–in His perfect Blood– for my soul. He only had to do it once, but because of His sacrifice, I can be renewed every day– empowered to live the kind of life He wants me to live; empowered to grow and make healthy decisions, and righteous choices; empowered to live free of the guilt and poison of being enslaved to Sin.

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With healthy choices and medication, I will be able to manage my blood sugar levels as I grow older. And I will never have to feel a “prick” or shed a drop of blood in eternity– there will be no death, and no disease! And all because of the Lamb who was willing to shed His blood for me– and for you! Not just a drop, not just another drop each day, but a once-for-all, extravagant, living sacrifice.

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And it is THIS Christ, THIS God, that listens to my prayers each day– even the ones when I whine about one little drop of blood for my glucose meter!

Sifting Through the Ashes

A Poem for Ash Wednesday

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Father, I look around, and all I see are the ashes:
Broken dreams, lost opportunities, burned-out passions..
Everything else is consumed.

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I sit here, on this heap of ashes: sifting through cold dust motes–
There is no heat, no burning embers, no trace of what was.

Such is the nature of sacrifice.
You don’t desire the stench of a half-burnt ram, or a singed goat.
You don’t relish a pile of smoking bones, or a half-hearted heart.

But you honor ashes and sacrifice given
With a whole and willing heart–
Even a broken one.


Your holiness consumes all that is temporal.
The ashes left are what you desire; the essence, the emptiness.
In exchange for them, you pour out
Life and blessing, gladness and healing.

As I sift through the ashes, I will not find the life I built,
The dreams I nurtured,
The honor I sought:
Instead, I will find evidence of the Holy Fire.
The ashes will be scattered to the wind.
They will fall on the waters.
They will become incense and prayers.
I will wear them on my forehead:
Your Holiness has burned away the dross.
My sacrifice is gain, not loss.

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