There's something miserable (meaning good, but difficult) happening inside me lately that I wanted to try and express. I believe this will actually turn out to be a three part post just because each aspect of it is so vastly different, yet all interconnected.
I donate plasma.
I've been doing it for months now, it's like a poor person hobby. You go let them suck life out of you, give it back to you a little bit watered down, then they hand you cash. Trust me when I say that if it weren't for poor people, next time you had an accident and needed plasma you'd probably die.
But every time I go to donate they do the same thing. They prick my finger to get some blood to test, and they check my blood pressure and heart rate.
They test 4 things; iron, protein, bp and my heart. Each and every item is low. Low to the point that if I don't consistently work at it I wouldn't be able to donate.
I've got all this blood coursing through my veins, yet for all the life giving things that are supposed to be found in my blood - I'm lacking.
If you look at me you wouldn't notice it. Even when you prick my finger and my blood dots on the tip you wouldn't realize it. Living in my own body full of this blood, even I typically don't notice there's a problem.
But upon testing you find my blood doesn't have enough life giving support to it.
And here is what I fear.
That as God tests my life, He finds me full of life but missing some vital, life giving components. When He pricks my life and tests for mercy, pride, faith, and my motives, will my numbers come out well?
On the surface my life looks good. I write a Christian blog don't I? Friends are always telling me I'm cheerful and positive and encouraging. But even I know that's not always true. Sometimes I act cheerful when I'm not; say positive things when I don't believe them, and sometimes I've encouraged people just because while I know they'll fail, I know they could do better if they were encouraged. In other words, I lie.
And without God pointing out some things that I just plain don't notice about myself, I don't imagine any of me would ever get fixed. Because I just don't see my lack usually. Sure seeing a lack of patience is easy, but how do you judge how merciful you are? How just you are? How gentle you are?
My empty blood bothers me. Not because of my health, but because every time I'm confronted with it I wonder how my lifes numbers add up. Will He find faith? Will He find humility? Will He find mercy? Will He find love?
It's always been my hearts cry to be perfected. To serve God with a whole heart, passionate and bold for Him. So I can't eat my spinach (for iron) and eggs (for protein) and jog (to raise my heart rate), without wondering what my Spiritual numbers are. When God finds this child at the end of her life, and He pricks my life, I want my numbers to be the healthiest they can possible be.
**This is part one, I think you'll find the next few posts in this series to be a bit more encouraging rather than longing. **