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To The Last

 I’m spending my next few days in the hospital, and it’s been a lot already. Don’t worry; my problems are orthopedic. Anyway, there’s a rhythm to hospital life that I don’t think exists anywhere else. Maybe prison is the same way, in the sense that you are not totally in charge of your life. Someone says, “You must do this,” and you do it.

One of the irritating and possibly painful aspects of it is the frequent blood draws. Every now and again, if you go to your doctor in the course of ordinary life, she may request this. But in a hospital, it’s much more frequent.

I have admired some recent roommates, in their chutzpah to refuse medications and blood draws. It’s all technically voluntary, but personally, if a doctor who seems competent asks me for blood, or to take a drug for my well-being, it’s not proud hero-guy time.

I beg your indulgence if it’s too fast a transition, but Jesus didn’t refuse any of the humiliation and violence that culminated in the Cross. He did it all willingly, for us.

I think we think of the Cross sometimes as punishment. While that’s not totally wrong—the Romans certainly meant it that way—it’s much more. Jesus loves you, and me. And he didn’t want to just tell us; he wanted to show us. And to think that one drop of His blood would be enough to reconcile us, but God wants us to know for sure. And so it was to the very last. He loved us to the end. You have to see Love, when you look at the Cross. If you don’t, start over.

A friend said to me last night, “I think God wants you to know that you have access to God’s compassion, more than others do.” Without prejudice to that word, and to its part in my life, I think we all do; we just don’t realize it all the time.

Dear God, help me to believe and see Your nearness and love today, especially when I feel like I don’t deserve it. You are nearer than we know. All we need is to be touched by You. Heal us, we pray, through Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.

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