It was just that kind of day. Everything was wrong. The first wrong thing was waking up. 6:15 and we are late. The kids running out the door so they won’t miss the school van with muddy feet across freshly mopped floor. The milk arrives and with my brain planning and plotting all the things come in the day I turned on the stove and moved on to the next thing. They say don’t cry over spilt milk, but this was milk so far beyond pasteurization, not a drip remained. It was charred, burn-the-house- down milk. I pulled myself together best I could and headed to town. I was taking a very sick boy to the clinic, to the market, to the pharmacy, back to the clinic, back to the pharmacy. It always seems like a long trip when you make every stop twice. We returned home to eat a late lunch and prepare for our next trip: a blood transfusion. There is a new hospital with a blood bank, we were dropped off there. The van headed off to pick up the children from school only minutes before we were informed the blood bank is not functioning yet and has no blood. I rushed to catch the van, it was gone. A hospital plopped there in the middle of a village and maize field. We started walking towards the main road, bare foot children followed with their mangoes. We jumped on the first boda (motorcycle) we saw headed in the direction that seemed right. We went to another hospital in search of blood. Blood was typed, and out of stock. We found boda number two and hospital number three. Veins too small for the cannula, blood dripped so slowly. Drip by drip. I watch the blood, hope. Hope for healing. This blood holds energy and hope. Someone donated their blood. They were wounded so in his weakness he could receive new blood into his fragile veins. It brought life back to his face. One small bag of donated blood drips, and I am thankful to the stranger who sacrificed it. How gracious! How much more did our Saviour’s blood drip! He was wounded for our transgression. He bled so that we would receive hope and grace in our veins.
All are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came through Christ- through the shedding of his blood- to be received by faith.
His blood dripped down from the cross.
Blood drips down. Grace drips down.
And just as the milk arrives fresh tomorrow morning so will His grace!