FOODFORTHOUGHT

CLEAN BLOOD
Author Unknown
July 26, 2010

The day is over, you are driving home. You tune in your radio. You
hear a
little blurb about a little village in India where some villagers have
died
suddenly, strangely, of a flu that has never been seen before. It's
not
influenza, but three or four fellows are dead, and it's kind of
interesting.
They're sending some doctors over there to investigate it.

You don't think much about it, but on Sunday, coming home from church,
you
hear another radio spot. Only they say it's not three villagers, it's
30,000
villagers in the back hills of this particular area of India, and it's
on TV
that night. CNN runs a little blurb; people are heading there from the
disease center in Atlanta because this disease strain has never been
seen
before.

By Monday morning when you get up, it's the lead story. For it's not
just
India; it's Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iran, and before you know it,
you're
hearing this story everywhere and they have coined it now as "the
mystery
flu". The President has made some comment that he and everyone are
praying
and hoping that all will go well over there. But everyone is
wondering, "How
are we going to contain it?" That's when the President of France makes
an
announcement that shocks Europe. He is closing their borders. No
flights
from India, Pakistan, or any of the countries where this thing has
been
seen.

That night you are watching a little bit of CNN before going to bed.
Your
jaw hits your chest when a weeping woman is translated from a French
news
program into English: "There's a man lying in a hospital in Paris
dying of
the mystery flu. "It has come to Europe. Panic strikes. As best they
can
tell, once you get it, you have it for a week and you don't know it.
Then
you have four days of unbelievable symptoms. Then you die. Britain
closes
it's borders, but it's too late. South Hampton, Liverpool, North
Hampton,
and it's Tuesday morning when the President of the United States makes
the
following announcement:

"Due to a national security risk, all flights to and from Europe and
Asia
have been canceled. If your loved ones are overseas, I'm sorry. They
cannot
come back until we find a cure for this thing." Within four days our
nation
has been plunged into an unbelievable fear. People are selling little
masks
for your face. People are talking about what if it comes to this
country,
and preachers on Tuesday are saying, "It's the scourge of God. "It's
Wednesday night and you are at a church prayer meeting when somebody
runs in
from the parking lot and says, "Turn on a radio, turn on a radio."
While the
church listens to a little transistor radio with a microphone stuck up
to
it, the announcement is made," Two women are lying in a Long Island
hospital
dying from the mystery flu." Within hours it seems, this thing just
sweeps
across the country.

People are working around the clock trying to find an antidote.
Nothing is
working. California, Oregon, Arizona, Florida, Massachusetts. It's as
though
it's just sweeping in from the borders. Then, all of a sudden the news
comes
out. The code has been broken. A cure can be found. A vaccine can be
made.
It's going to take the blood of somebody who hasn't been infected, and
so,
sure enough, all through the Midwest, through all those channels of
emergency broadcasting, everyone is asked to do one simple thing: "Go
to
your downtown hospital and have your blood type taken. That's all we
ask of
you. When you hear the sirens go off in your neighborhood, please make
your
way quickly, quietly, and safely to the hospitals." Sure enough, when
you
and your family get down there late on that Friday night, there is a
long
line, and they've got nurses and doctors coming out and pricking
fingers and
taking blood and putting labels on it.

Your wife and your kids are out there, and they take your blood type
and
they say, "Wait here in the parking lot and if we call your name, you
can be
dismissed and go home." You stand around scared with your neighbors,
wondering what in the world is going on, and that this is the end of
the
world. Suddenly a young man comes running out of the hospital
screaming.
He's yelling a name and waving a clipboard. What? He yells it again!
And
your son tugs on your jacket and says, "Daddy, that's me." Before you
know
it, they have grabbed your boy. "Wait a minute, hold it!" And they
say,
"It's okay, his blood is clean. His blood is pure. We want to make
sure he
doesn't have the disease. We think he has got the right type."

Five tense minutes later, out come the doctors and nurses, crying and
hugging one another some are even laughing. It's the first time you
have
seen anybody laugh in a week, and an old doctor walks up to you and
says,
"Thank you, sir. Your son's blood type is perfect. It's clean, it is
pure,
and we can make the vaccine." As the word begins to spread all across
that
parking lot full of folks, people are screaming and praying and
laughing and
crying.

But then the gray-haired doctor pulls you and your wife aside and
says, "May
we see you for a moment? We didn't realize that the donor would be a
minor
and we need. . . we need you to sign a consent form." You begin to
sign and
then you see that the number of pints of blood to be taken is empty.
"H-h-h-how many pints?" And that is when the old doctor's smile fades
and he
says, "We had no idea it would be a little child. We weren't prepared.
We
need it all!" "But but..." "You don't understand. We are talking about
the
world here. Please sign. We - we need it all - we need it all!" "But
can't
you give him a transfusion? " "If we had clean blood we would. Can you
sign?
Would you sign?" In numb silence you
do. Then they say, "Would you like to have a moment with him before we
begin?"

Can you walk back? Can you walk back to that room where he sits on a
table
saying, "Daddy? Mommy? What's going on?" Can you take his hands and
say,
"Son, your mommy and I love you, and we would never ever let anything
happen
to you that didn't just have to be.

Do you understand that?" And when that old doctor comes back in and
says,
"I'm sorry, we've - we've got to get started. People all over the
world are
dying." Can you leave? Can you walk out while he is saying, "Dad? Mom?
Dad?
Why - why have you forsaken me?"

And then next week, when they have the ceremony to honor your son, and
some
folks sleep through it, and some folks don't even come because they go
to
the lake, and some folks come with a pretentious smile and just
pretend to
care. Would you want to jump up and say, "MY SON DIED! DON'T YOU
CARE?"

Is that what God is saying? "MY SON DIED. DON'T YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I
CARE?"

"Father, seeing it from your eyes breaks our hearts. Maybe now we
begin to
comprehend the great love you have for us. Amen "

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