This WILL MAKE YOU THINK!! (thank you, Stephen)
It's a 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."
And 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 through the borders. And 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 neighbourhood, 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 neighbours,
wondering what in the world is going on and if 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 on!"
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 grey-haired doctor pulls you and you wife aside and says, "May
we see you for 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-how many pints?" And that is when the old doctor's smile fades and
he
says, "We had no idea it would be 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 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-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 honour 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 FOR YOU! DON'T YOU
CARE?"
Is that what GOD wants to say? "MY SON DIED FOR YOU. DON'T YOU KNOW
HOW
MUCH I CARE?"
Father, seeing it from your eyes breaks our hearts. Maybe now we can begin
to comprehend the great Love you have for us."