“There is no greater love than to give your life for your
friends." ~ John 15:13
Molly walked down a flight of
stairs to the women’s bathroom. There in
front of a mirror, she splashed cool water on her face. Nausea had painted a strange pallor on her
face. She patted herself dry with a
paper towel before stepping back into the hallway and heading back up the steps
to the Blood Donor Center.
Pale and sweating, she found an empty seat and read the
donor manual for the umpteenth time.
Observing blood seep from a wound, flow into a syringe or
spatter on the ground always caused her heart rate and blood pressure to
skyrocket. She fought dizziness and
tried to calm herself by focusing on the serenity of a clear, blue mountain
lake.
A sympathetic nurse called her number and Molly proceeded to
the exam room to begin the endless list of personal questions she’d soon be
confronted with. Thankfully, she had
nothing to hide.
“Just to remind you,” Molly said. “I’m deathly afraid of needles!”
“Dear, you’re not the first,” the nurse named Colleen
replied. “We’ll take it slow; as long as
it takes.” She’d drawn Molly’s blood
many times before and knew that the next question would bring some peacefulness. “Tell me again honey, why you keep subjecting
yourself to this?”
Molly began.
“Thirteen years ago my twin brother Monte had a close encounter with an
oak tree along a winding Tennessee back road.
Let’s just say – the tree won! He
managed to squeeze through an opening between the side window and door frame
despite multiple injuries. Once free of
his mangled truck, he collapsed in shock.”
She continued. “With
every beat of his heart, blood gushed from Monte’s body. He’d lost more than a pint of blood before an
off-duty pediatrician discovered him along the side of the road. He lost another two pints in the
ambulance. By the time Mom and I arrived
at the hospital, surgeons were standing in puddles of my brother’s blood. Monte was cold and ashen. The surgery team looked grim.
As Molly spoke, a certain calmness seemed to wash over
her. Confidence growing, she finished
her tale: “Because the team refused to give up, and selfless people had donated
blood, my brother lives today! He’s a
miracle – few people lose that much blood and live to brag about it. They saved his life. Now I come every 8 weeks to save others.”
“But I still hate needles,” she laughed.
When we’re truly selfless and compassionate, we also become
fearless. Our desire to help replaces
our anxieties and indecision - in some extremes, even fear of death or painful
injury. There is power in self-sacrifice
– the power of the Holy Spirit.
“Loving God, grant that I may not try to be
comforted, but to comfort, not try to be understood but to understand, not try
to be loved but to love. Because it’s
in giving we receive.” Amen
