😉
Tonight after I picked him
up from work, Tobin and I headed to church for the blood drive being held there.
We have both donated blood quite a bit in the past, minus the five years we spent in Indo.
Really, neither of us have a reason NOT to donate.
We can handle the needle stuff, we’re both healthy, and we
both have good veins. (In fact, nurses used to comment on how quickly I could fill up that bag with blood. True.) And strangely, I find watching them put
the needle in my arm fascinating.
(I know, I know.)
We went through the initial Q & A, and I met the requirements, but Tobin almost didn’t. He hasn’t been back from Indonesia for quite a year, but in the end because of where in Indo we were, he got to give.
But I didn’t.
You know the dreaded finger prick
? (Yeah, that’s the worst part!) Both times they tried, my iron was too low.
So I was rejected.
Bummer.
Truthfully, I tried to laugh it off, but I was frustrated.
Mostly frustrated that I hadn’ t ea
ten a steak before I tried to give. 
I supposed it could be worse. I mean, there are much more horrible things than not being able to give blood, right?
But to me, donating blood is a small way to be Christlike.
Maybe that pint of blood I give every once in awhile will play a part in saving someone’s life.
Just like the blood he shed saved me.
Life will go on today even though they wouldn’t take my blood.
But without the blood of my Savior, life wouldn’t go on.
Today I was rejected. (In a small, insignificant, almost silly way.)
But please don’t reject him. Because the blood he gave was the most precious gift in history.
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