Blood.

Angela Hertica
May 4
2 min read

“Hallelujah, hallelujah

I know it was the blood

Could have only been the blood”

“Blood” - Bethel Music (Jenn Johnson and Mitch Wong)

Communion. Bread and juice. The blood of Jesus. Spilt for us. For our healing. For our sins. For our salvation.

I looked at the table in front of me. As the seniors led worship at the high school chapel. A table with paper cups and broken bread on paper plates.

I stood at the back of the room as they sang.

“I know it was the blood, could only been the blood”

This song is one of my favorites. It reminds me of my Papa and Grandma’s prayers. Pleading the blood of Jesus over people. Over circumstances. It reminds me of Sunday morning communion. It reminds me of Good Friday. But what it reminds me of most. Is my own life. Of my own story. Of how His blood covered me. Of how He protected me.

I will never forget when I really met Jesus. A Wednesday evening. Sitting on the floor of a room in a Sierra Mesa church. My friend’s dad prayed with me as I asked Jesus into my heart. I was seven years old.

That was when I met Jesus. It wasn’t until almost 40 years later that I realized on that day His blood covered me. His blood protected me. His blood saved me from the evils of this broken world.

It wasn’t until I remembered what happened to me. Retracing the steps. The words. The actions. The memories. Did I begin to understand.

Fear. Shame. Pain. It all clung to me. Like a stench I could not get rid of. Like dirt I could not get off.

Until one day. Remembering that night at the church. The night I gave my heart to Him. The night I prayed. I finally realized what His blood meant.

All grown up. I finally understood what it meant to be covered by His blood. To be sheltered and protected and covered. Loved and wanted and worthy.

I survived because of His blood. I thrived because of His blood.

I am holy. I am righteous. I am purified. I am spotless. What was done to me doesn’t hold me. Doesn’t stain me. Doesn’t control me. Because His blood covers me.

I sing this song. And I have tears. I raise my hands. And I have joy.

“It's never been about performance, perfection

Or striving for acceptance

Let me tell you, it's only by the blood

It's never been about deserving or earning

It's a gift that's freely given

Let me tell you, it's only by the blood

Oh, does anybody wanna be holy and righteous

Purified and spotless

Let me tell you, it's only by the blood

Does anybody wanna be worthy, forgiven

Justified, really living