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The Life is in the Blood

I shall never forget the day when I came so close to being united with my dear Lord Jesus. It was the tenth day of August in the year of 1992, and I was sixty three years old. It all started a month earlier one night just after finishing dinner. I suddenly felt a burning and gnawing feeling in my stomach, but I  did not think much about the feeling. I assumed that it was just heartburn or maybe indigestion. Eventually the pain went away, and I went back to sleep.

A couple of weeks passed, when one night I instantly woke up from a burning and gnawing feeling in my stomach again. I finally fell asleep but I decided to give the doctor a visit the next day to check out the problem.  I visited my doctor the following day, and he told me that I had stomach ulcers. He gave me a prescription for two different antibiotics to take daily and said I should be fine, but to come back if there were any further complications.

I took the medication exactly like he said, and everything went smoothly until a couple weeks later on August 10, 1992. On that fateful day, I had the worst bout of pain I had felt so far and almost passed out. I quickly drove myself to Memorial Hospital and was rushed into the emergency room. I began to lose major amounts of blood, and the doctors started to become frantic.

“Find out where the source of the bleeding is immediately!” one of the doctors ordered.

“His stomach ulcers are causing hemorrhaging!” screamed another.

My stomach ulcers had caused the erosion of a major blood vessel in my body allowing for hemorrhaging–excessive discharge of blood from the blood vessels.

It seemed like time had suddenly stopped, and my world had come to a standstill.

Doctors and nurses were rushing around the room yelling orders, but it all fell deafly to my ears. I started to feel weaker and weaker as considerable amounts of blood left my body. The room was spinning and I began to lose consciousness. Doctors were trying to stop the bleeding, but there was not much they could do. I felt needles puncture my skin, and the bright lights shining above me blinded my eyes. All the faces hovering above were like floating clouds passing by. I felt a fluid being injected into my body and flowing  through my veins. The whole room seemed to catch its breath watching and waiting for the drug to take its effect.

Minutes seemed like hours when at last the results came in. Utter chaos ensued as the room of people realized that the drugs had not worked as planned. My whole world came crashing down as a small piece of my brain clicked into place, and I realized that my life was ending. My first thoughts were of my family and friends and how my death would affect their lives. However, after that moment thoughts consumed my mind having to do with my life. Had my life been a good one? Was I a good husband and father to my kids? If I made it through this, where would I go from there? These were the kinds of questions that ran through my head as I lay there dying from the loss of blood.

All around me doctors and nurses ran around giving orders and trying to save my life.  I was fading in and out, hearing bits and pieces of what they were saying.

“We are going to have to do surgery on this one Boys,” one of the doctors stated.

“I wonder if he will pull through?” thought another.

“I don’t think he’ll make it, there is not much we can do. Only a miracle can save him now”, another replied.                                                                                                3

I felt them wheel me down the hall into what I inferred was the surgery room and prepare me for surgery. None of this mattered to me because I had already given up the hope of living as I felt the blood pump through my veins and leave my body.

It was in those few moments that I realized the most important factor of all-Jesus Christ. He was the only one that could truly save me. He could not only save my flesh and blood but save me eternally. It was his blood, the blood of the Lamb, which washed me as white as snow and saved me. It was the same blood that he lost to save me eternally like the blood I was losing as I lay there. It was my blood that was killing me, and Jesus’ blood that had already saved me when I met Jesus and accepted Him as my Savior. There is truly so much life in blood, and I realized this as I lay there losing my blood on the verge of death.

I completely lost consciousness as they tried to save my life. I woke up hours later and learned that they thought I had been lost. The doctors claimed that there was no logical explanation for why I was still alive and breathing. I knew that it was God who had saved me in those few moments, and I was truly grateful. I praised God and thanked Him for the life He had given me through the blood that was pumping through my veins and that he had shed for me on the cross.

I came out with no post-surgical symptoms and a greater appreciation for life. I realized the great price that Jesus paid, and I was very thankful for being alive and breathing. My whole life I had been a Christian, even a pastor for the majority of it, but it was during the moments at the hospital that I realized what it really meant to be saved by the blood of the Lamb. Jesus Christ  had died for me a lowly sinner on the cross, innocent to the end. Still to this day, I have a better understanding of the life that is in the blood.

[Editor’s note:  This article was written by Kelly Thompson about her Uncle Roy Harris, a retired pastor, based on an interview with him.]

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