In the weeks leading up to my accident, I had been struggling. Not only wrestling with my own personal strongholds, but also with where to put all the things I see and deal with in this profession. It's not something we like to talk about. We need to be strong, because sometimes we're all these people have. I can totally be strong and stern when needed. I can also offer grace when possible, but nothing can really prepare you for the real hard stuff. Nothing can prepare you to see a child being worked on by EMT's, only to find out later that she didn't make it. Nothing can prepare you to see someone die right in front of you. Nothing can prepare you for the adrenaline dump that occurs after you encounter a subject with a gun (Once the scene is safe of course). We know these things because we're taught to expect them. To know something and to experience something are two different monsters.
I can't fully articulate the intricacies of all the feelings and emotions associated with the job. I can, however, say that they begin to weigh a lot over time. The night of my accident, I felt a spiritual unrest. I knew that I had been struggling for a while in my life, but I was just heavy in the reality of the world we live in. In this job I, WE, see the worst parts of humanity on a daily basis. We see people on the worst days of their lives (lets face it, no one calls the cops for a BBQ). My heart was so heavy, I texted a friend when I had a few minutes. I simply stated that I needed a break. I shared my heart a little bit and was going to look at my calendar when I got home to pencil in some down time. I needed to recuperate. I needed a season of Rest. Not just physical rest, but spiritual and mental rest, as well. Then the calls began pouring in and we were back at the grind once more... While en-route to a high priority call, my partner and I were struck by a drunk driver. We jokingly say that the accident only cost us an arm and a leg- because when your hand is broken and your partner has to be cut out of a Police unit, with a broken Femur- you have to be able to laugh. We have laughed and we have cried. God literally provided a break (not quite what I had in mind, but...). God, I believe, has a sense of humor.
This season of my life has been so SO needed. I wish I could put into words the rejuvenation I feel. God began a new work that night. I can certainly speak for myself in saying that this incident has forced me to face my own garbage that I keep lugging around with me. I do also believe that this has done the same for my partner.
Romans 8:28 says "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."
I truly believe that God used this incident to provide the rest I so desperately needed. This season of life has been so full of life and REALLY good things. While I hope to not ever fall back into that pit, I am pressing on into a new season. This week I will hit the streets once more. As I am preparing my equipment, scripture is coming to mind and I am so excited to see what God has for this next season of life. My heart is overflowing with gratitude for this season and for unrelenting pursuit of my God. I feel like he left the 99 to come find me and I am just overjoyed.
God is so good.