Red on White

It’s not what I expected today. At the grocery store entrance, a small crowd had gathered. At the center stood a white-haired lady, probably in her 80’s, stooped over.

And bleeding.

I saw the puddle of bright red blood on the concrete near her feet. I saw it dripping through her white hair. I saw a woman in her mid-30’s holding up the elderly lady, pressing a cloth to her head to curb the bleeding.

So it took me a minute to recognize Him. Because He was masquerading as a she. As a woman in her mid-30’s. I assumed she was the granddaughter or a caretaker.

But she wasn’t. She was like me. A stranger.

She had happened to be walking by as the lady fell, and had stopped to help. A Good Samaritan.

I hung around for moral support and to help the lady sit in a chair that the cashiers brought outside. Then the ambulance came, put her on a stretcher, and it was over.

But not the Red on White. I still see the red blood on the white hair. I can’t shake it.

Is this what I’m supposed to “come and see” today? The symbol of Christ’s life-blood dripping over his white, spotless soul? His love flowing down to us? His compassion working its way out through a younger woman helping an older woman she had never seen before? I’m a witness. John 1:7-9

Come and see. Red on White. Come and see.

* * *

Mark 14:24
And he said to them, "This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many.

Ephesians 1:7
In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace,

P.S.
The song playing on the radio when I got back in my truck? “Give Me Your Eyes”
I cried.