I texted my boys the day after the awful event and told them I didn't want them to go to work. They knew I wasn't kidding. It has been over two weeks since the ambush of the Dallas police officers. I found that tears would come at the oddest times, but with so many things going on and people around I never really let myself just break down.
All I wanted to do was to bake cookies for them, but I didn't even have time to do that. The fact that they both live far away made even less sense that I would bake for them. And why cookies when I wasn't always a cookie baker? When they were growing up I would bake cakes and pies. Cookies always seemed to take too long. For whatever reason I wanted to bake cookies for my cop sons.
Last week I put a bag of snickerdoodles in the hands of one boy and a bag of chocolate chip in the hands of the other. There were tears because we knew it was more than a bag of cookies. It was the only thing I could do to make things better - except for prayer.
I don't pray for them out of fear. I didn't really even have fear after the shootings, but there was a great sense of sadness. I know they are where they are, doing what they do because it is God's will for them at this time. I pray for their safety and for the opportunities they have to show Jesus to the ones they come in contact with. They have stories of times that they have encouraged the ones that have made bad choices or needed a fresh start.
We shed tears this past week because things are not the same. They have to be more aware of their surroundings and always on guard of what is going on around them. They cherish the time with family because they don't know what the next day may hold. They will keep doing what they are called to do and I have now become a baker of cookies.