A Parent's Nightmare

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 people
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
disease center 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 man lying in a hospital in Paris dying of
the mystery flu. It has come to Europe. Panic

As best they can tell, once you get it, you have it
for a week before you know it. Then you have four
days of unbelievable symptoms. And then you die.

Britain closes it's borders, but it's too late. South
Hampton, Liverpool, North Hampton, and it's 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 if it's just sweeping in from the

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. 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 your 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 if 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 on! And they say, "It's okay, his blood
is clean. His blood is pure. 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 you 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 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 little
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!" "But can't you give him a

"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

Is that what GOD wants to say? "MY SON DIED. DON'T

"Father, seeing it from your eyes breaks our hearts.
Maybe now we can begin to comprehend the great Love
you have for us."

"For God So loved the world, that He gave his only
begotten Son, that whoever believes on Him should not
perish but have everlasting life."

John 3:16

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