When A Cop Cries

Ask yourself...When was the last time you saw a cop cry? Did you ever? It is a very rare thing indeed. Our job is to be strong, when others are weak...stay in control, when the situation is chaos...show no emotion, when others are emotional. And we do that, to the very best of our ability. But, there is a down side. No one sees us cry. No one believes we hurt. We are thought of as unfeeling, unloving, unforgiving. That is how we are expected to get the job done...and we do...but we feel it. We live it. We breathe it. And sometimes the pain is unimaginable.

Ask yourself...When was the last time you saw a cop cry? Did you ever? It is a very rare thing indeed. We wait until we are alone. Usually at home, in the middle of the night, unable to sleep for the sights we saw, and the things we heard that very day. And the tears slip down our cheeks...unchecked...silent. We question God, "why?", sometimes we even argue with God...but most of all we pray. We pray for strength to make it through. We pray for the people who have touched our hearts, and have no idea that we are even hurting for them.

Ask yourself...When was the last time you saw a cop cry? Did you ever? It is a very rare thing indeed. We even hide it from our partners...because deep down we know they cry too. Even the biggest, toughest, coldest "man" cop is reduced to tears when he has to find, report, or photograph the children. Of course, he has to hold it in until he is alone...and by that time the hurt has eaten through his stomach, and the pain lives in his heart. The day he dreads the most is the day he has to testify...because he has to relive it all again...it's no wonder alcoholism is so high among police officers...anything...anything...to erase the pain...that always returns in the morning.

Ask yourself...When was the last time you saw a cop cry? Did you ever? It is a very rare thing indeed. Sometimes it happens right there out on the street, but people are too caught up in their own situation to even notice. Night shift...shots fired...the red and blue seem to reflect off the darkness as he drives faster and faster...can't even hear the sirens wailing for the beating of his own heart...afraid of what he will find when he arrives. Seconds later, the first to arrive, and his fears are confirmed. A teenager...still a child really...lays bleeding in the middle of the street. He calls for the ambulance, runs to his side, and kneels down in the blood so that he can lift the boy's body into his arms. He recognizes his face, because he has dealt with him before...agonized over him before...tried to get him to 'get out of that life'. The boy says, "I'm dying, arn't I". He hugs his body close as the tears run down his face unchecked. "No!" It's almost a violent scream into the night...but deep down he knows...and he does the cop thing; "Who did this to you?", "Hold on...help is coming!"...but the boy dies in his arms. A cop cried much that night. Cried at the scene, cried in the car, cried in the station, cried in his bed. Regret floods the cops mind; as he shoulders the blame. "Why didn't I try harder?", "Why couldn't I make him choose to leave that life?", "Why didn't I pray with him before he died?" He even cries out to God on the boy's behalf..."Have mercy on him oh Lord, and forgive me my shortcomings in this situation". When a cop cries, it is the highest form of intercession...it comes wrenching out of an aching heart that Jesus lives in...so the Lord cannot help but notice.

Ask yourself. When was the last time you saw a cop cry? Did you ever? It is a very rare thing indeed. The photographs of the dead infant sicken her stomach. The write up in the newspaper makes her head swim and she wants to scream. How can they write about it...when she can barely open the case file? The hurt is so intense that the tears cannot fall. It is a pain so deep, and so real, that it actually numbs part of her brain, and it forgets to register the tears. The pain inside is so intense she wants to run away from it...but that won't help the children this man may run into in the future...so she endures it...for them. She knows she is not supposed to judge, that is only for God...but her voice, her heart, her very spirit all cry out for justice...and at the same time she knows...all the justice in the world will not bring the child back. But she cries out for it anyway. At the scene, when he is arrested; In the court, when he is arraigned; And in the night, when she knows God is listening...she cries out for God to bring justice...in His way...for the spilled blood of the innocent. Through all the anger, the pent up hurt...finally...the tears come...and she prays God counts every one for that child. It's no wonder the divorce rate among police officers is so high. Who can live with the long hours, late nights, nightmares, and anxiety...when she can barely live with it herself.

Ask yourself. When was the last time you seen a cop cry? Did you ever? It is a very rare thing indeed. Usually you see us laugh. You see us joke. We have non-chalance down to a science. It is a way to deal with the pain until we can be alone with our emotions. Sure, we don't have episodes like these everyday. But the trauma carries over into the next day...When you have to give somebody a ticket for speeding, and they call you a Pig. Tell you, they pay your salary, and basically don't even notice that you probably saved them from a horrendous accident that could have killed the baby strapped in the back seat. They ask why you arn't out there doing your job, catching 'real' criminals, when they have no idea the number of childen, husbands, wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, grandmothers, grandfathers, sons, daughters...that are dead because of speed related crashes. They don't understand that you give them the ticket because you cannot bear to see them, or their family, unconcious, hurt or
bleeding to death on the street. That you cannot bear to see the crumpled body of a child that was merely running out to get their ball, and they were unable to stop in time. No they go on with their lives, mad about their ticket, and don't realize how their words cut to your very soul, because you know...in a second...you would die in their place if they needed you. They don't even realize that a traffic stop is the most dangerous call a cop ever has to go on, and that you are standing there alone, with no back up, because the City won't hire more officers... No, they go on their way...and you go back to your cruiser, take a deep breath, and ask God to forgive you for the things you were thinking about them. Again, shouldering the blame for their actions.

Ask yourself. When was the last time you saw a cop cry? Did you ever? It is a very rare thing indeed. But if you look close, and pay attention, you may catch it. I was cruising the streets today. It was raining, and the shift was feeling long and unbearable. I looked at the clock...close to quitting time. I thought about my children, my husband who had to come out and do this next shift. God I miss them. I ask Him to watch over them, and bless them. It's a strange feeling, wanting to be out there to protect people I don't even know, and having to rely on God for the protection of my family. They're in good hands though. I trust God. I almost don't see the woman walking down the street. She is so thin and frail...must be in her 90's. She is clutching a brown paper bag, and her body is bent into the rain. There are many cars on the road, but none stop to offer her a ride. I cannot bear it. I turn the cruiser around and pull alongside her. "Would you like a ride?" At first she refuses, but I smile at her and ask her if she isn't cold in that rain. She seems undecided, and I realize she doesn't want to take me away from what must be my "busy job". "I'm going in the same direction" I assure her, and she relents and climbs in. The drive is short...only a block and a half, but to her, on foot, it must seem like miles. She walked all the way to the store for her cigarettes she says. We make small talk for the few seconds it takes to drive down the street, then she gets out. She immediately turns back to me in the car before shutting the door and says, "God Bless You". I am astounded...she cannot realize how much those words mean to me. I mumble thank you, and drive off embarrassed and humbled that she thinks God should bless me, when I was just doing my job...and I realize...God has blessed me. I get to stand on the watchtower everyday. He gives me the words to encourage others, the strength to fight and protect, and the peace to make it through the rough times. I remember the family I have to go home too. I realize my blessings every day I see others in need. He gives me the responsiblity to help those who don't even know they are in need of help...and he gives me the kind words of a stranger when I least expect it, and need it most.

As I drove away, the tears streamed down my face. I didn't have to worry, it was raining, and everyone was to busy to notice that the tears on my face were not a trick of the rain on the windshield. Even if they thought they were sure I could've been crying, the smile on my face surely would throw them off. Next time you see a cop...or even get a ticket...Ask Yourself? Did this cop ever cry? I assure you they did...they do...and they will again. But if you ever get to see it...cherish it...it is a very rare thing indeed.