The Blood of Jesus

It had been a most difficult week.

The twelve year-old son of our daughterís best friend had drowned in Lake Norfork. Blake was the oldest of their three children and our granddaughterís had spent much time with him during his short life. Most days found us weeping tears of sadness from the sudden death of this young friend. Yet, we could rejoice because his grandfather was able to stand at the funeral and tell the story of Blake receiving Jesus Christ as his Personal Savior.

Our five year-old granddaughter, Mary Kathryn, came home from school the following week excitedly showing us a picture she had drawn at school that day. She had made it for the mother of young Blake who had drowned.

In the picture she had sketched two people.

"This is Blake", Mary Kathryn said, "And the other one is Jesus", she continued with her explanation.

In Mary Kathrynís picture, Blake and Jesus were in a white building she called Heaven. They were standing on a street of gold. It was so precious! And I loved it that my sweet Mary Kathryn would make something so lovely for this mother who was sorrowing very deeply.

But, I noticed a small spot on the otherwise immaculate gold street. Thinking it was a mistake on the paper, I asked Mary Kathryn about it. She looked up at this grandma as if I should know why that tiny red spot was there. And then in her little grown-up five year-old voice she said to me, "Grandma, that is the blood of Jesus who died on the cross to save us from our sins."

The depth of maturity I saw and heard in Mary Kathryn that day startled me. It shouldnít have, but it did. After all she had asked that same Jesus into her heart only a few short months before.

Mary Kathryn, her mother, and her sister went out the door to deliver the picture. I stood with my hands lifted to heaven, praising Godís Holy Name, knowing that their earthly playmate, Blake, was now walking in heaven on those streets of gold. All because Jesus had shed His blood to cleanse us from our sins, just like Mary Kathryn had illustrated so beautifully.

Melva Cooper copyright 1999

Melva Cooper is a free-lance writer from Jonesboro, Arkansas. She writes for Northeast Arkansas Parent and Christian Motorsports Illustrated. In addition she has articles published on several websites and ezines.

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