Tonight in worship, I pictured myself a soldier in the ranks. For we stood shoulder to shoulder with the same thing on our minds: Victory. For some, the battle towards victory is bloodier than others. The blood that watered the fields of victory was of my own veins and others - but both were shed by me. On this road to victory, I had to spill my own blood so that the Lucifer in me would live no more. On this road to victory, there was bloodshed of others on my hands. To sacrifice blood - blood of those whom I love - is to keep my heart untaintedly fixed on the goal at the end of the battle.
I unclenched my fists which grasped their precious blood, foul with sin and let it drop from my hands. Only then, with empty fists, could I wash them in Jesus' blood, truly precious and foul with nothing.