Today, the Monday after the NFL bruhaha concerning the national anthem, I got down on my knees...next to the hospital bed of a 87 year old grandmother. And I prayed. I prayed that I could draw blood out of the tiny vein that snaked under the thin, crepey skin on the back of her hand. (I prayed sincerely because I had already stuck her and missed once.) And I pulled out my tiniest butterfly needle and my most awesome phlebotomy skills, because she needed the result before she could have a procedure. And while I was down there my knees, I prayed for my sister-in-law who is lying unconcsious in an ICU bed in Savannah, Georgia. And while everyone in the room held their breath, there was a flash and then a flow of blood through the tubing and into the syringe. It was a little sacred moment right there in room 110.
Offered prayers. Shed blood. A God Who delights in answering.
One procedure completed. Waiting on news from Savannah.
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