P E A C E K E E P E R

Officer Scott was found standing in the back of his SUV patrol vehicle and rummaging through his trunk. He was the only vehicle in the alley, which happened to sit at the cross-section of a dead end. I only know this because I was lost and making a U-turn, to give up and return home.

Slowly I turned while staring down the alleyway. “Why not?” I said to myself. Without waiting for an answer, I followed my instinct and turned down the alley to park next to him.

It had been a troubling few days, mainly because I had no one to talk to, which from this keyboard feels like an exaggerated statement. But what is held dear to heart rarely takes an exiting path towards my breath to become audible. I’d reached a point inside of myself where I realized my responses were based on hoped-for outcomes in the future. Again, probably not an epiphany for any living human, but it was for me.

I needed to respond to a present moment rather than one hoped for in the future. My demeanor was an amalgamation of responses witnessed in the past. I needed to rewrite my thinking, and it scared me because to respond differently reminded me of fishing days from long ago. I felt like I was releasing bluegill, taking my fishing pole entirely out of the water and walking home hungry, but in faith that something would be there for me to eat when I arrived. This may not make sense to anyone but me, but to stay out on a boat all day and go home empty-handed, was something I was never okay with because I knew what was in the water.

For me, the darkest times of parenting have included pulling out every lure and bait imaginable, to feel my child bite but then swim away just when I’m about to pull them in. My descriptions disguise the intensity of emotions that are only within me. I am sure they are not nearly as intense for anyone else. Mostly sure. I carry a sense of helplessness at not knowing the exact recipe for their palate. I also feel pride at the strength of their swimming legs, but ultimately I mourn because they don’t know where it is they are swimming to, but it remains a rite of passage that they must swim from me.

It isn’t about me though, so I linger in the parenting test kitchen. The reality is that I need to feed everyone and desiring a wholly impartial resource, the police came to mind. It might sound odd, but I thought of the folks in blue because politics aside, their role is that of peacekeeper. I intended to pose general questions. However, the two stations I’d stopped at previously could offer no assistance. It was when I was just about to give up the idea of asking once more, that Officer Scott was revealed.

I stepped out of my vehicle, and walking towards him asked if he was still on duty. He nodded in the affirmative, and I gave a brief overview of what I was looking for, and he nodded as if he knew what I was talking about. With complete awareness of how obscure and mysterious I’d tempered my speech, I found something miraculous in his response. He pulled out a pad of paper and wrote down the name, number, and address of who I should contact. As he wrote, I fought the urge to cry, not because of what he was writing from memory, but because I knew I was standing in the arms of blessing.

If I never follow up on the information provided, I knew his physical location and preparedness were reassurances that all would be okay. I recognized that everything I’ve ever needed has always been there when I needed it. I wanted to hug him but shook his hand and thanked him profusely instead. Maybe he considered to have interacted with Nut #7 of the day, or, perhaps he needed to be reminded that he and his uniform still represented peace.

I needed reassurance, and it didn’t arrive the way I expected it to, but I’m sharing it with you all the same.

As a reminder; to heed your intuition, to not give up and to be open to how your blessings will be given. Who and what you need will always arrive along the path of your faith and perseverance.

Remain in hope, and if you are wondering, know you are loved, always have been and always will be.