I let my just turned nine year old shred some cheese and she took a little chunk out of her finger.  “How’s it going to heal?” she asks me, the one whom the children go to with all their medical questions. “Well,” I reply,” it will heal in time, but that was a ‘good one’ you really got yourself.”  “Why is it worse than a skinned knee?”she ponders. To which I answer,
“Because the cut is deeper, you damaged more layers of skin.”

I’ve had my share of skinned knee disagreements with church, but it feels like the wounds lately have ‘drawn blood’.  The inability of most Midwestern evangelical churches to follow simple health guidelines for the safety of our children and others- the unwillingness to inconvenience those who just don’t want to, or have little concern of safety, or understanding of their individual/communal actions which create a domino effect–is just a wound too deep to brush off.  I don’t want to hear one more time that they ‘care’, their faith without action is dead to me.

I’m tired of it. I’m tired of arguing. I’m tired of speaking to ears who don’t seem to hear.  What other choice do we have other than to pack up, bandage ourselves and let the scar form?

And today I got a call from the Red Cross, they need blood- to save lives- perhaps the very lives of those who are in need of life saving help due to a pandemic.  Patients who are now waiting more hours, some unable to be seen, some who are injured, or in surgery and in need of blood.  And I am asked to give my blood for theirs.  It seems fitting.

For most of my adult life I’ve been unable to give blood, my veins were too small, and then I was pregnant or breastfeeding for the last 10 years.  But not now. Sign me up. Take my blood.  I’m tired of cheap words, “what can I do to help?” MASK. Get vaccinated if you are able. Stop acting as if there isn’t a pandemic.  For me, I can give my actual blood.  In their facility I’ll be around other masked individuals who will take my health seriously and the well being of others as one of their number one priorities.  It might even feel like going to church.