Yes, I have said these words. It didn't help though. The then-four year old came inside one afternoon with a deep gash in the side of his foot. Apparently, he had tried to stand on the square glass tank that had been draining on the lawn outside. (For the record, no fish were harmed in the making of this story. I had just cleaned the old yard sale-discovered tank to prepare it for a new life as a terrarium.)
His weight had, naturally, been too great. The tank shattered. So he got off the remainder and came nonchalantly into the house.
He isn't the one who complains. And I am not one to notice things very quickly. But after seeing several red splotches on the floor, I connected the dots. Literally. I tracked him down. Blood was flowing rather steadily from the side of his heel. He started to cry only when I sat him down to check for glass shards and to clean and bandage the hole. He survived. Now there is a scar he refers to as the "crack in his foot." We never did make a terrarium that summer.
I've been pondering this since Easter. Blood is so quiet. Oh, whatever causes the skin break often causes a loud crack or thud. But the blood that flows - I don't hear it; I don't always even notice little cuts or bruises until later.
But God does.
To Him who numbers every hair on my head, to Him who keeps every single one of my tears in a bottle - to Him, blood is loud.
Blood is the essence of life. He who made our heart beat is in tune with the pulse of every little blood cell in our bodies. We don't hear it, but He does.
Leviticus 17:11 says "The life of the flesh is in the blood, and I have given it to you upon the altar to make atonement for your souls; for it is the blood that makes atonement for your soul."
One of the first measurable identities God created in the baby growing in my tummy was blood of its own. The little guy had a heartbeat by the time I knew he even existed. Before he even had a face, he had his own functioning circulatory system.
It's been that way since the first people on earth. "Then the Lord said to Cain, 'Where is Abel your brother?' And Cain answered, 'I don't know. Am I my brother's keeper?'"
I've been pondering this since Easter. Blood is so quiet. Oh, whatever causes the skin break often causes a loud crack or thud. But the blood that flows - I don't hear it; I don't always even notice little cuts or bruises until later.
But God does.
To Him who numbers every hair on my head, to Him who keeps every single one of my tears in a bottle - to Him, blood is loud.
Blood is the essence of life. He who made our heart beat is in tune with the pulse of every little blood cell in our bodies. We don't hear it, but He does.
Leviticus 17:11 says "The life of the flesh is in the blood, and I have given it to you upon the altar to make atonement for your souls; for it is the blood that makes atonement for your soul."
One of the first measurable identities God created in the baby growing in my tummy was blood of its own. The little guy had a heartbeat by the time I knew he even existed. Before he even had a face, he had his own functioning circulatory system.
It's been that way since the first people on earth. "Then the Lord said to Cain, 'Where is Abel your brother?' And Cain answered, 'I don't know. Am I my brother's keeper?'"
"And He said, 'What have you done? The voice of your brother's blood cries out to me from the ground.'" Genesis 4:9-10
There weren't even that many people around on earth yet to see Cain's heinous act of jealousy. Perhaps he'd thought of perfect alibis, hidden Able's body, covered all his tracks, and thought he might not have to ever own up to killing his brother.
But God knew. God heard the life blood fall. Every drop cried out to Him. It was costly. Precious. Already, because of the first sin of Cain's parents, a price had been put on their lives. And on every life to follow. The price of blood.
Life - real life, forever life, good life with God as He desired to give them - could only be had at the cost of blood. Sin stood between their lives and the life God intended for them. The barrier between man and God could only be broken by the sound of one substance beating it down. Loud, red blood.
One man volunteered every quart in his body to break that barrier once and for all.
As the last drops of his blood fell from the cross, they crashed so loudly to the ground that even on earth people heard its reverberating echo.
"Then behold, the veil of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom; and the earth quaked, and the rocks were split, and the graves were opened, and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised" Matthew 45:51
When drops of blood hit the ground and cause an earthquake - that's loud.
When it calls the dead back to the land of the living - that's loud.
When it splits boulders - that's loud.
When God can look at your needy life and still hear the blood of His Son from 2000 years ago calling out to Him "This one's covered" - that is loud.
Joseph and Nicodemus were smeared with it as they took the body of Jesus down from the cross. They may have been silent, considering it would likely cost them their jobs.
They kept the Passover memorial the next day, pouring out the blood of their own lambs with stained red hands and a feeling of failure in the One they had loved and put their trust. They mourned silently for the friend they had laid in a grave.
But God heard that blood. All over them.
The innocent blood could not stay silent. It refilled Jesus' broken heart and made it beat again. He walked out of the grave. He walked, talked, laughed, and ate with His friends for many days. He had been very much dead. He has the scars to prove it. (I bet he never made a terrarium that summer either.) But he has the blood to prove his life, even right now. That life - that blood - has been unable to remain silent for more than 2,000 years.
You've heard of it. Perhaps it's covering you. Perhaps someday, you will hear the verdict yourself - "innocent - by virtue of the righteous blood." Or perhaps it's not. Perhaps, it's time to listen.
There weren't even that many people around on earth yet to see Cain's heinous act of jealousy. Perhaps he'd thought of perfect alibis, hidden Able's body, covered all his tracks, and thought he might not have to ever own up to killing his brother.
But God knew. God heard the life blood fall. Every drop cried out to Him. It was costly. Precious. Already, because of the first sin of Cain's parents, a price had been put on their lives. And on every life to follow. The price of blood.
Life - real life, forever life, good life with God as He desired to give them - could only be had at the cost of blood. Sin stood between their lives and the life God intended for them. The barrier between man and God could only be broken by the sound of one substance beating it down. Loud, red blood.
One man volunteered every quart in his body to break that barrier once and for all.
As the last drops of his blood fell from the cross, they crashed so loudly to the ground that even on earth people heard its reverberating echo.
"Then behold, the veil of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom; and the earth quaked, and the rocks were split, and the graves were opened, and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised" Matthew 45:51
When drops of blood hit the ground and cause an earthquake - that's loud.
When it calls the dead back to the land of the living - that's loud.
When it splits boulders - that's loud.
When God can look at your needy life and still hear the blood of His Son from 2000 years ago calling out to Him "This one's covered" - that is loud.
Joseph and Nicodemus were smeared with it as they took the body of Jesus down from the cross. They may have been silent, considering it would likely cost them their jobs.
They kept the Passover memorial the next day, pouring out the blood of their own lambs with stained red hands and a feeling of failure in the One they had loved and put their trust. They mourned silently for the friend they had laid in a grave.
But God heard that blood. All over them.
The innocent blood could not stay silent. It refilled Jesus' broken heart and made it beat again. He walked out of the grave. He walked, talked, laughed, and ate with His friends for many days. He had been very much dead. He has the scars to prove it. (I bet he never made a terrarium that summer either.) But he has the blood to prove his life, even right now. That life - that blood - has been unable to remain silent for more than 2,000 years.
You've heard of it. Perhaps it's covering you. Perhaps someday, you will hear the verdict yourself - "innocent - by virtue of the righteous blood." Or perhaps it's not. Perhaps, it's time to listen.
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