Young Cop, I’m Praying for You

Exactly 12 hours before the Orlando nightclub massacre, I sat at a window in Chipotle and saw a police officer get into his car to go back on duty after a late lunch.

He was young and handsome, and I instantly thought of the 20-something men in our family, men we love, men we would fear for if they were wearing his pressed black uniform.

He confidently and calmly drove away and I thought,

You, young cop, leaving Chipotle with your belly full, your mind perhaps on your afternoon patrol ahead, or maybe on something else; a girlfriend, tonight’s Stanley Cup playoffs, your next day off.

You, young cop, I’m praying for you. I hope your mama prays for you, but even if she doesn’t, I am today.

I’m praying for your safety. I realize you put it on the line every single day that you go to work. You put it on the line for a city full of people who don’t know you; people who likely will never see you and therefore never care about you, even though you care about them.

I’m praying for wisdom… That you will know what to do that is prudent and safe and fair in every single situation you come up against when you wear your uniform.

You, young cop, I’m praying for you. I hope your mama prays for you, but even if she doesn’t, I am today.

I’m praying for perseverance. We had a young police officer very much like you in our family. He struggled too much with department cronyism and the overloaded and often skewed judicial system to stay on the job. I pray you have the strength to look past those challenges to the greater good you are doing for all of us. But, if you can’t, I understand. You deserve our thanks, and you also deserve our grace.

I’m praying for your protection from people who don’t like your uniform and therefore don’t like you; people who see only a persecutor when most of us see a rescuer. I’m praying you can close your ears to their ugly slander and remember you are a hero.

I pray you will have the courage you need on the job tomorrow, and the squared shoulders it will take every time one of your fellow officers—or many of them—lose their lives to the evil in this world. Shoulders that can bear the grief of your own heart as well as the hearts of others.

I pray that other people see you, as I did, and ask God to care for you today.

I pray someone sees you at lunch tomorrow, and prays for you again.

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