Thicker than.....

blood.

That's what this post is about.

(aside: I do want to say, though, that I have a great post in my head (with all props to Stephanie when due) relating to community and dating- it's gunna be good, so stay tuned)

blood.

I have it. Some people don't. Or not as much as they might need. So I figure, hey- I'm poor, but I can still give away my body for humanity. At least I wasn't selling plasma and pocketing the profit, you know?

I go to the red cross- the blood taking experts, mind you- and I want to point out here, that the total amount of time for this all to transpire was about 2 hours. I was supposed to be at work.

Resuming- I went to the Red Cross. They asked me lots of questions about my blood. Is it conditioned in a body that weighs enough? Check. Have you taken it to another country? Check. (but not a "dangerous one"). Have you allowed it contact with any other suspicious blood? No. On and on we went about sex, prostitution, diseases... I felt like I was in the Old Testament. Finally I was deemed donor worthy, and all allowed to advance to the next level of the game.

In this level, I was poked, prodded, my circulation cut off with a rubber tourniquet , my circulation cut off with a blood pressure cuff, all while continuously shifting and changing the characters- each nurse calling someone else to "check this out". Finally one nurse thinks she's up to the task, and she digs in.

People say that it's like a "bumble bee sting" and then you don't feel it. BS. I felt every single time I squeezed the freaking ball to give away ever millimeter of blood. It hurt. A lot. Then the vain blew. My whole arm is blue and black and they didn't even get a pint of blood.

I ate some cookies and left.

I think about ministry with the people that Jesus called "our neighbors". A lot of time it's hard. It hurts.

And sometimes in trying to give life to someone else, our veins blow, and the whole thing gets called off.

Messy fellowship.

In a church bulletin I got this week someone wrote about the 48 laws of power, one being:

Infection: Avoid the Unhappy and Unlucky
You can die from someone else's misery-- emotional states are as infectious as diseases. You may feel you are helping the drowning man, but you are only precipitating your own disaster. The unfortunate sometimes draw misfortune on themselves; they will also draw it on you. Associate with the happy and fortunate instead.

When I read this I see the words and the ridicuousness of it all. Of course that doesn't make sense- that is totally contradictory to the gospel message. But when I look at my life. The words of my life, and who I choose to associate with, and sometimes I think we have to take pause and wonder if the words of our life don't read the same as the theory of power.

Because it's easier. It's happier. It doesn't hurt. You don't bruise. I don't want to give blood again. I don't want to hurt again.