Power in the Blood

My dad had a beautiful tenor voice, and for as far back as I can remember, Daddy sang in the church choir. In fact, he rarely missed a Sunday occupying his spot on the back row in the choir loft of the little Baptist church that I grew up in. And for as much as Daddy loved country music ... think Dolly and Porter and Johnny ... he loved the old gospel hymns even more. Even when his mind was ravaged with Alzheimer's disease, he could still remember the lines to some of his most favorite songs ... We'll Work 'Til Jesus Comes, How Great Thou Art, Victory in Jesus and There's Power in the Blood. I can close my eyes even now and picture Daddy laying in his hospital bed in the back room of his and Mom's house ... belting out the lyrics to his beloved hymns.

This morning, I went for my fasting blood work, and yes, someone drove me. It was a long night, and I woke up this morning crying ... you just gotta love it when you wake up crying. I suppose the only sweet part about it is that Ollie the wiener dog always tries to lick my tears when I cry, and in light of how easily I cry now, that crazy dog spends a lot of time trying to lick my face. No matter how hard I tried this morning, I couldn't control the tears ... I cried in the shower; I cried while I was waiting for my friend to come pick me up; I cried on the drive to the doctor's office; and I even made a fool of myself and cried while the gal drew my blood.

I had sort of pulled myself together as I sat in the chair waiting for the nurse to begin the procedure, watching as she lined up the collection vials on the desk to my right. Looking at the tubes that would soon hold my blood, I was completely overwhelmed with the thought that leapt into my mind. For as long as I'm alive, I'm going to be forced to do these tests. For as long as I'm alive, my blood will fill these tubes. And the tears returned. It was a rough blood draw this morning, involving several attempts to fill all the tubes that were required for the multiple tests. As the tears rolled down my cheeks, I began to think about the power that my own blood now has over my entire life. I live or die by the level of sugar in my blood. Blood, blood, blood ... my head pounded with the thought of the power in the blood ... with the thought of my dad singing ... with the thought of a baby coming ... with the thought of life or death ... blood, blood, blood.

After being escorted to the car by nurses on either side of my wobbly legs, my head swimming and my stomach churning, my friend stopped at McDonald's and got me a breakfast burrito (the only good part of fasting blood work, by the way) and took me home. She settled me on the couch before she left, and I closed my eyes in the hope that sleep would come quickly and take away my pounding headache. Eventually I did snooze for a bit, but before I did, my mind continued to pulse with the words ... power in the blood ... power in the blood ... power in the blood. God has a lesson for me in today's painful visit to the lab ... 

"Would you be free from the burden of sin?
There’s power in the blood, power in the blood;
Would you o’er evil a victory win?
There’s wonderful power in the blood.

Would you be free from your passion and pride?
There’s power in the blood, power in the blood;
Come for a cleansing to Calvary’s tide;
There’s wonderful power in the blood.

Would you be whiter, much whiter than snow?
There’s power in the blood, power in the blood;
Sin stains are lost in its life giving flow.
There’s wonderful power in the blood.

Would you do service for Jesus your King?
There’s power in the blood, power in the blood;
Would you live daily His praises to sing?
There’s wonderful power in the blood.

There is power, power, wonder working power
In the blood of the Lamb;
There is power, power, wonder working power
In the precious blood of the Lamb."