THROUGH HIS EYES
From a lesson by Jeff Walling
The day is
over. You are driving home. You tune in your radio. You hear a little blurb about a little
village in India where some villagers have died suddenly, strangely, of a flu
that has never been seen before. It's
not influenza, but three or four fellows are dead, and it's kind of
interesting, and they're sending some doctors over there to investigate it.
You don't think
much about it, but on Sunday, coming home from church, you hear another radio
spot. Only they say it's not three
villagers, it's 30,000 villagers in the back hills of this particular area of
India, and it's on TV that night. CNN
runs a little blurb; people are heading there from the CDC in Atlanta because
this disease strain has never been seen before.
By Monday
morning when you get up, it's the lead story.
For it's not just India; it's Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iran, and before
you know it, you're hearing this story everywhere and they have coined it now
as "the mystery flu." The
President has made some comment that he and everyone are praying and hoping
that all will go well over there. But
everyone is wondering, "How are we going to contain it?" That's when the President of France makes an
announcement that shocks Europe. He is
closing their borders. No flights from
India, Pakistan, or any of the countries where this thing has been seen.
And that's why
that night you are watching a little bit of
CNN before going to bed. Your
jaw hits your chest when a weeping woman is translated from a French news
program into English: "There's a young man lying in a hospital in Paris
dying of the mystery flu." It has
come to Europe. Panic strikes. As best
they can tell, once you get it, you have it for a week and you don't know it.
Then you have four days of unbelievable symptoms. And then you die.
Britain closes
its borders, but it's too late.
Southhampton, Liverpool, North Hampton, and its Tuesday morning when the
President of the United States makes the following announcement: "Due to a
national security risk, all flights to and from Europe and Asia have been
canceled. If your loved ones are
overseas, I'm sorry. They cannot come
back until we find a cure for this
thing."
Within four days
our nation has been plunged into an unbelievable fear. People are selling little masks for your
face. People are talking about what if
it comes to this country, and preachers on Tuesday are saying, "It's the
scourge of God."
It's Wednesday
night and you are at a church prayer meeting when somebody runs in from the
parking lot and says, "Turn on a radio,
turn on a radio." And while
the church listens to a little transistor radio with a microphone stuck up to
it, the announcement is
made. "Two women are lying in a Long Island
hospital dying from the mystery flu."
Within hours it seems, this
thing just sweeps across the country.
People are working around the clock trying to find an antidote. Nothing is working.
California. Oregon.
Arizona. Florida. Massachusetts. It's as though it's just sweeping in from the borders.
And then, all of
a sudden the news comes out. The code
has been broken. A cure can be found. A vaccine can be made. It's going to take the blood of somebody who
hasn't been infected, and so, sure enough, all through the Midwest, through all
those channels of emergency broadcasting, everyone is asked to do one simple
thing: "Go to your downtown hospital and have your blood type taken. That's all we ask of you. And when you hear the sirens go off in your
neighborhood, please make your way quickly, quietly, and safely to the
hospitals."
Sure enough,
when you and your family get down there late on that Friday night, there is a
long line, and they've got nurses and doctors coming out and pricking fingers
and taking blood and putting labels on it. Your wife and kids are out there,
and they take your blood type and they say, "Wait here in the parking lot
and if we call your name, you can be
dismissed and go home."
You stand around
scared with your neighbors, wondering what in the world is going on, and that
this is the end of the world. Suddenly
a young man comes running out of the hospital screaming. He's yelling a name and waving a
clipboard. What? He yells it again! And your son tugs on your jacket and says, "Daddy, that's
me."
Before you know
it, they have grabbed your boy.
"Wait a minute, hold it!" And they say, "It's okay, his blood
is clean. His blood is pure. We want to make sure he doesn't have the
disease. We think he has got the right
type."
Five tense
minutes later, out come the doctors and nurses, crying and hugging one another
- some are even laughing. It's the first
time you have seen anybody laugh in a
week, and an old Doctor walks up to you and
says, "Thank you, sir. Your
son's blood type is perfect. It's
clean, it is pure, and we can make the
vaccine."
As the word
begins to spread all across that parking lot full of folks, people are
screaming and praying and laughing and crying.
But then the gray-haired doctor
pulls you and your wife aside and says, "May we see you for a moment? We didn't realize that the donor would be a
minor and we need...we need you to sign
a consent form." You begin to
sign and
then you see that the number of pints
of blood to be taken is empty.
"H-h-h-how
many pints?"
And that is when
the old doctor's smile fades and he says, "We had no idea it would be a small child. We weren't prepared. We need it all."
"But -
but..."
"You don't
understand. We are talking about the
world here. Please sign. We - we need
it all - we need it all!"
“But can't you
give him a transfusion?"
"If we had
clean blood we would. Can you sign? Would you sign?"
In numb silence
you do. Then they say, "Would you
like to have a moment with him before we begin?"
Can you walk
back? Can you walk back to that room
where he sits on a table saying, "Daddy?
Mommy? What's going on?"
Can you take his
hands and say, "Son, your mommy and I love you, and we would never ever let anything happen to you that didn't
just have to be. Do you understand
that?"
And when that
old doctor comes back in and says, "I'm sorry, we've - we've got to get started. People all over
the world are dying."
Can you
leave? Can you walk out while he is
saying, "Dad? Mom? Dad?
Why - why have you forsaken me?"
And then next
week, when they have the ceremony to honor your son, and some folks sleep through
it, and some folks don't even come because
they go to the lake, and some folks come with a pretentious smile and
just pretend to care. Would you want to jump up and say, "MY
SON DIED! DON'T YOU CARE?"
Is that what He
wants to say? "MY SON DIED. DON'T YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I CARE?"
"Father,
seeing it from Your eyes breaks our hearts.
Maybe now we can begin to comprehend the great love You have for us.
Amen."