Today I want to share something very personal.
It was a quiet evening, the kind where the world slows down just enough to feel the ache in your soul. I was at the church I was pastoring… alone. And honestly? I was spent.
Teaching three services that week. Counseling. Prepping sermons and carrying people’s burdens and trying to ignore my own.
And I had nothing left.
No words.
No clever points.
Just an ache… and silence.
I remember walking up to the front of the sanctuary. I didn’t even try to sound “spiritual.”
I just dropped to my knees
And I prayed.
But not a tidy, Sunday-morning kind of prayer.
No… this was the messy kind.
The “God, I can’t do this without You” kind.
The “If You don’t show up, I have nothing” kind.
And He answered.
Not with a booming voice or lightning in the sky…
But with a vision so vivid, so powerful, it felt like I had left the room.
Suddenly, I was there…
Above the cross.
Looking down at Jesus.
His body was broken.
His hair, matted with blood.
His suffering… beyond words.
And as I slowly descended, I found myself in front of Him.
Face to face with Love in its most brutal, beautiful form.
Then… I saw it.
A single drop of blood.
Just one.
Clinging to the tip of His nose.
And I watched—time slowed—as that drop fell.
Falling… falling…
Like the whole universe was holding its breath.
And when it touched the ground?
The earth moved.
The dirt scattered.
The air shifted.
It was like even creation itself recognized what had just happened.
And suddenly…
I wasn’t at the cross anymore.
I was above the Earth—looking down from space.
And there it was.
That same blood, spreading across the world.
Covering everything.
Every nation. Every soul. Every wound. Every sin.
And then I heard it.
A voice—deep, unmistakable, tender but thunderous:
“All it took was just one drop.”
And then… the vision ended.
I was back on the church floor, face down, sobbing.
Not out of fear or shame…
But because I finally understood.
His blood wasn’t just theology.
It wasn’t just something we sing about or read in Scripture.
It was real.
It was powerful.
It was enough.
And yet, we don’t talk about it like we used to, do we?
Maybe we’re afraid it sounds too old-fashioned.
Too intense.
Too much.
Too politically correct
But can I be real with you?
The blood of Jesus isn’t just a part of our faith.
It is our faith.
Without it, there’s no redemption.
No forgiveness.
No hope.
I think the enemy wants us to forget that.
He wants us to water it down.
To make it feel irrelevant, outdated—like it belongs in dusty hymnals, not real life.
But here’s the truth:
Just one drop of Jesus’ blood…
It was enough to cover everything.
Your worst mistakes?
Covered.
That shame you still carry?
Covered.
That secret no one knows about?
Covered.
Every scar.
Every failure.
Every broken part of you…
Covered by grace.
And not just covered—healed.
If you’ve ever wondered, “Could God really forgive me?”
If you've ever felt like you’re too far gone, too messed up, too unworthy…
Let me tell you what that drop of blood is still saying today:
“Yes.”
Yes, He can forgive you.
Yes, He still loves you.
Yes, He wants you back.
That night in the sanctuary changed everything for me.
It reset my soul.
It reminded me what really matters.
Because the blood of Jesus isn’t just a story.
It’s not just a doctrine.
It’s not just for Easter.
It’s life.
It’s love.
And it’s enough.
So if you’re tired…
If you feel empty…
If you’ve been trying to earn what’s already been paid for…
Stop.
Come to the cross.
Kneel if you need to.
Cry if you have to.
But know this:
Just one drop… was all it took.
RJ (Rox) Nolin