Sitting in front of a Wal Mart gas station in a small, forgotten (at least by the refueling rigs) town in Georgia, you begin to see how vulnerable our modern life is.  Georgia was out of gas.  Our vehicle was sipping cautiously at the dregs in its tank.  We were many hours from anywhere (and many more if you have to walk) and all six gas stations in town were empty shells.  Only Wal Mart still had fuel.  One 40-minute wait, several conversations about government conspiracies in the fuel crisis, and the beginnings of ulcers caused by watching people fill up their 30 gallon SUVs, 100 gallon boats, and multiple 5 gallon plastic containers to boot, we got to the pump.  If the fuel had run dry before we got there, we would have... sat in Georgia for a week until the lifeblood ran through the pipelines again?

People constantly complain about the collapse of the economy.  I view it from the odd perspective of a man serving in a job that has guaranteed job security.  As my current profession is based on the sin nature, I don't see myself being out of work anytime soon.  But that's not why I do it.

Why?  Serving as a missions pastor at a local church with Becky getting her masters in preparation for the field would be so much more to our liking.  Few professions are based entirely upon man at his worst.  As first responders, we only get dispatched if things have gone wrong.  We're on duty every other weekend because emergencies don't honor the Sabbath.  Only getting to church twice a month is like having half your senses stricken.  Sure, taste and touch are nice but a side order of sight and hearing would be much appreciated, thank you kindly.  As mentioned above, the other option was to serve as a missions pastor and let Becky enjoy the thrill of learning, of growing, of being sharpened by godly men and women. 

A kindly lady at church asked.  "But why go overseas when there are so many lost here?"  Even aside from God's clear calling on us to Southeast Asia, we're headed there because how can they believe unless they hear?  There's alot not to love about Southeast Asia (and this spoken by an Asian) but when you've got a limited amount of time (one life) and a myriad of needs, I want to burn my candle in the darker places.    We're going, not because we're good at what we do or because we're inherently more suited to the task or because we're wonderful Christians; we're going there because no one else is. 

That's why we're in our current jobs.  Both of my almae matres cranks out dozens - no, more like hundreds - of young men and women yearly to fill positions in Christian ministry.  I only know of two of us who went into law enforcement.  I thank God for those who can carry the Christian flag in an official capacity, but so many people have asked why I'm a cop that I wanted to put this on the table.  Law enforcement - aka the Brotherhood of Blue - is not only a tightly closed community but it is an unreached people group right here in America. 

We roll hot and heavy from one call to another.  The lighter ones we share and laugh about.  The times get there to wipe the 16 year old's brains off the seat after being shotgunned with bird shot from 2 feet away, the time you stand helplessly watching the 19 year old mother of three lose her unborn child and then watch the three lose their 19 year old mother from a 9mm hit in the stomach by a gang who ooops-we-shot-the-wrong-apartment, oh, then the radio goes off and you clear the scene and leave the memories tucked away behind caution-do-not-cross police tape in your mind and you run to handle a two year old who is managed to lock himself in the bedroom and whose mother is beyond frantic and then the little voice on the other side of the door suddenly goes quiet and you clear that and there's an accident down the street with irate people screaming at each other over the needs-a-magnifying-lens-to-see scratch on their Dodge Viper (who gives their high schooler a Dodge Viper?  oh yeah, that would be the dad who drives a Maserati, no joke) and you're now wound tight because of the emotional flux from murder scene to heroically saving the cute blond haired two year old to-  and then beep, Central to 432, 10-90 and you're off having convinced the luxury car owners that they might just survive the scratch on their $60,000 car and if they don't think so then talk with the kid 3 calls back with the birdshot and oh yeah your hands are on auto pilot and you're already pulling your cruiser up to what-the-heck-who-started-that-blaze and it's a retired man standing in shock, just put all his life savings into buying a cute little house it's not much but it's everything he and his wife own and now he's standing in his stockings in the middle of winter with his whispy white hair being blown by the wind whipping from the conflagation as he watches literally everything he has be devoured by the red beast and why oh he was making sauages for his wife and went to use the bathroom and the pan caught on fire and you clear the call and put your hand on him but there are no words and then beep, domestic in progress, be advised 432, weapons, girl has a knife...

You get off shift and you stand around with you coworkers.  You watched their back during the near shootout in the drug house on Duke, you've gone on the calls, you are one of them.  We're not monsters.  We don't get used to this, ever.  We may look hardened but that's because you have to tuck your emotions away behind your body armor when you walk into the night.  We come from all walks of life.  But we are Brothers in Blue.  How many churches do you know have outreaches to the local first responders?  Who thinks to minister to the people whose whole job is responding to mankind in emergency?  Maybe it's because traditional ministry would be largely ineffective.  How are you going to tell me about all these wonderful truths when you don't know me?  You don't know what I see and do. 

That's why I'm a cop.  I want to share the knowledge of Him with groups that don't have a witness.  They're not going to listen to an outsider.  But I have walked with them.  I have fought with them.   More than once I have nearly been killed with them. 

So when we were standing by our patrol cars, lounging in that state of restful alertness that keeps one ear on the radio and one eye on the surroundings, and Officer Sealey said, "So, Smith, what do you think about eternity?"

Then a slow smile spreads across your face and you get to tell the Story to a tough 60 year old wizened veteran who has seen the fall but has never heard about redemption.  You get to tell it because he has seen you live it.  And he listens because you're one of the Brothers.  And maybe, just maybe, there will be a different sort of brotherhood born.

Life has maintained that uncertain grey quality but with definite joys swirled through the mix.  Like drinking a fruit juice blend blindfolded, delineating the flavors is neither completely practical nor desirable.  God graciously adds his own spice and makes life more than a cold mathematical sum of the available experiences.  As the light shines on the next step, I hope I have the courage to take the adventure I am sent. 

On a different note, I'm not at all ready for Christmas.  Driving the other day God asked me what I've sacrificed for him in light of his gift to me. 

Weather is so underappreciated.  When people want to talk meaningless drivel they "talk about the weather."  On occassion you hear what a beautiful day! but most of the time it's it's too hot or (more likely from me) it's f-r-e-e-z-i-n-g!  Too rainy.  Too dry.  Too humid.  It rained for four days here and I spent an inordinate amount of that time standing outside watching it.  The sun rose in a clear sky this morn and I marvelled at the beauty.  God could have made life so much more dull.  Who needs color?  Weather?  Scents?  Tastes?  Live in a hospital for 18 days and you begin to appreciate God's spice... :)

later edit:  so I like weather.  what may be a surprise is my dislike of airsoft shooting in the house.  tolerated as a necessary evil in seminary, nevertheless when I live alone, gunfire will be allowed in my place only in extenuating circumstances, like Jacks-in-the-backs.  or mag wheels.