Washed By the Blood

As a little girl, I grew up singing the hymn, “Washed by the blood,” and found it odd that people were smiling about taking a bloodbath. Envisioning the King classic Carrie, I couldn’t wrap my mind around Jesus’ representation of a spotless lamb, and His crimson blood making me white as snow. Puzzling this paradox, I spent much of my life wearing a white dress while hiding my red undergarments. 

After salvation, I was baptized and grew up following Christ, serious about my faith, and involved in Church. However, when sin slowly crept into my teen years, I became much more crafty at hiding my blots than letting Jesus wash them whiter than snow.

For nearly a decade, I battled borderline anorexia and orthorexia behind closed doors and hidden agendas. Even today, closest friends have not heard my entire testimony. 

While I would confess to God the sharable sins, I kept others hidden. Satan had convinced me that what was hidden was sacred and controlled when, in reality, it was cursed and irrational.  Because even if you’re wearing a white dress, hidden testimonies bleed death, not life.

In Revelation 12:11, the ESV states, “And they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, for they loved not their lives even unto death” (Revelation 12:11, ESV). 

Though it has been many years since the Lord freed me of my crimson stains, I still face new battles every day where sprinkles and pricks try to stain the bride we are to Christ. But at the end of the day, I know and confess that because of Jesus Christ and His blood shed for me, I can live pure and blameless before His sight; it’s His testimony within me.

God asked me to lay down my fears and share this story with the world. Expose all those bloodstains? I thought, never. Yet knowing that by His blood, my blood is washed white, I have chosen to live the life of freedom He’s given me more the temporary acceptance or image of who I’ve pretended to be here on earth (1 John 1:7, ESV).