Under The Sun

“I have seen something else under the sun:

The race is not to the swift
    or the battle to the strong,
nor does food come to the wise
    or wealth to the brilliant
    or favor to the learned;
but time and chance happen to them all.

12 Moreover, no one knows when their hour will come:

As fish are caught in a cruel net,
    or birds are taken in a snare,
so people are trapped by evil times
    that fall unexpectedly upon them,” Ecclesiastes 9:11-12

Sunday’s sermon hit a place in my heart I haven’t been ready to pilgrimage through.  The harshness of death was brought to the forefront as we examined this passage.

The book of Ecclesiastes is altogether full of hope, and the meaninglessness of life.  Two perspectives we have all surely gone between.  Hidden in these ironies is a wealth of wisdom, if we open our hearts to receive it.

Dive with me for a minute.

The books main author, Solomon, is said to have been the wealthiest and wisest man to have ever lived.  By today’s distinctions, he could be called a New York Times Best Selling Author, Forbes Wealthiest Man, GQ’s Most Handsome Man of the Year, Time’s Most Influential Person, you get the idea.  But at the end of his days, he found what all do, the same fate we all share and pondered the same things we have.

Why do we suffer such loss?  How does a good God let death come to both the good and the evil?  How are we to spend our days in light of Eternity?

Picking up a paper or scrolling the news on any given day will beckon us to ask these very same questions.  When we lose a loved one, when our blue family grieves another loss.

We know that Solomon reminds us, “All share a common destiny—the righteous and the wicked, the good and the bad, the clean and the unclean, those who offer sacrifices and those who do not.

As it is with the good,
    so with the sinful;
as it is with those who take oaths,
    so with those who are afraid to take them.,” verse 2.

Did you catch that?  “As it is with those who take oaths, so with those who are afraid to take them.”  I have never noticed that outlined in these lamentations from Solomon is a striking reminder that even our Heroes, those who take oaths, do not know what fate awaits them.  Such is the human condition.

Blaise Pascal describes death in a morbid, terrifying sort of way.  He describes a party where the guests are enthralled in conversation, drinking, and eating.  When all of a sudden a vicious monster opens the ballroom door and grabs one of the guests.  They all stop and stare for moments after…Then they begin to return to their conversations as if nothing had happened.  This is how we act toward death he says.  We all know it lingers outside the ballroom of our life but we carry on as if it doesn’t.  Is that a bad thing?  Should we be lying in wait, anticipating the return of the vicious monster?

Learning to number our days is to walk in wisdom.

However as wives and those who have experienced a LODD close to home, its important that fear does not control our everyday lives.  Wrestling between our mortality and why the good guys fall is one of the heaviest journeys I’ve been on yet as a police wife.   Understanding time and purpose is something I don’t know if I’ll ever grasp.

In our hearts we try to reason.  We try to understand how someone with so much to live for could be taken so abruptly from us.

It seems unfair and by all accounts, it is.  How can the same fate come to us all.  Does the way we spend our days not matter to a loving God?  Of course it does.  What would cause God to put such a heavy loss on loved ones left behind?  For that only Heaven knows.

Verse 3, “This is the evil in everything that happens under the sun: The same destiny overtakes all.”

Trusting in the goodness of God after a verse like this can be challenging to say the least.  I know, I’ve been there the last six months.

This one thing I do know, we must live in light of Eternity.  We must accept that the very end that can bring such pain can also bring freedom.  We must believe, above all, that when the Good Guys fall, God is heartbroken.  He too is reliving the pain of death felt by watching His Son die.  He has been where we are.  He has seen the darkest evil in men and the honor and selflessness one holds to lay down their life for another.  This is our reconciliation. 


thin_blue_line (1)

I’ve hardly had the emotional energy to course these waters but the hurt deep inside from such tragedy calls me to do just that.  A path to healing is a path paved with trust.  Trust in something and someone bigger than us.  Without this trust, the thought of sending my Officer out the door for another shift would be overwhelming.

“But you, you God, are the most faithful of friends, the most trustworthy of confidants, and the most gracious of Fathers.”  Words given to me in one of the darkest days and I offer them to you today.  Meditate on them, trust them.

“You keep track of all my sorrows.  You have collected all my tears in your bottle.  You have recorded each one in your book,” Psalm 56:8.  There will come a day when we will remember the toiling of this life no more.

Always Praying For You.


The Deepest Waters

Funerals always felt so big. Shuffled in between uniform, after uniform, after uniform, trying not to lose my husband in the sea of blue.

Experiencing loss and heartache in law enforcement.

Funerals always felt so big.  Shuffled in between uniform, after uniform, after uniform, trying not to lose my husband in the sea of blue.  The arenas were large and the speaker list prominent.

I’d share glances with fellow wives, who’s heads and hearts were probably filled with the same questions that were swirling in mine.  We would share hugs with those we knew, drop a red stained carnation on another casket, and a spouse would clench another folded flag in their arms.

We always seem to talk about ‘The One’ we remember best or that rattled us the most as wives.  Admittedly I had a list in my head of funerals and times of being stuck in traffic jams caused by processions, that all seemed to shake me equally.  The morbid inclination to insert your own ‘what if’ in to a scenario is something most outside of law enforcement could hardly understand.


Then one day death was right next door.  The wife, a friend, and the children like my own.  Time stood still in those moments after learning that their officer would not be coming home that night.  Never would he see the little boy he was so proud of getting off the bus from his first day of school.  Never would he share another night with his wife, or a hunting trip with his friends.  Never.  So many nevers.

My heart broke in silent despair as I watched his little boy so full of life, unaware of the pain that waited on the other side of daybreak when the news would come to him. “Dear God..” I prayed in those moments.  Truth of Scripture rang through my heart, but the humanness of how much I could understand was defeating.  “How…” “Why…” only begun the questions I had for something like this.


Wrapping my arms around my friend and my love around her family was all that could be done in those moments of deepest pain.  Those days were full of broken prayers and mounds of heartache.  “But God,” I prayed.

When the funeral came, it suddenly didn’t feel so big.  The grief was so tangible and the reality of the loss so great, that it was all I could do to not sink right in my chair and disappear.  I could hardly tell you who spoke, or what great leader they quoted.  “He would have gone anyways,” his friend said during the service.  Those words pierced my heart and the numbing silence that I felt.

I had no desire to talk to anyone or read anything, even from fellow wives, and blogs about ‘times like these.’  I needed something authentic.  I needed a truth that I could anchor my soul to.  Something viable that I could give to this grieving family.  I wish I could say that something like that came.  That I had a heavenly moment of clarity and peace.  But I didn’t.

In my humanness, however, I did feel grace.  That even though I was angry, and sad, and confused, God was still good.  He was still in control.  He was still faithful.  Oh how I prayed this sweet family to feel that same grace.

“But you, Lord, are a shield around me, my glory, the One who lifts my head high.” Psalm 3:3.  That scripture echoed over and over and over in my heart for the family who would now have to learn to live as survivors.

FullSizeRender (1)

In the days after the loss of her hero, I sat down with a broken-hearted wife.  “I knew Aaron meant a lot to me.  I had no idea until this happened how much he meant to everyone else.”  Those words have haunted me, hanging on in my mind, restless, looking for a place to land.

We walked our little boy through the funeral for his best little buddy’s dad.  A dad whose uniform and patrol car are all too familiar.  The reality for five-year-olds is well, different, as you can imagine.  But the pain on both of their faces is clear.  “He’s an angel now,” they say together.  “A MIGHTY angel,” we add.


What-ifs are natural.  Should haves, would haves, could haves…we all have them.  “There is no silver lining in this,” Mike and I have said back and forth a thousand times since it happened.  It was senseless.  Absolutely senseless.  “He would have gone anyways.”  That’s what heroes do, I tell myself.  They run toward evil to protect the flock.  They truly are the sheepdog.

I am often asked how to support law enforcement.  It seems so trivial to say to say thank you, or send a card.  But all of these things are valuable.  Every blue light bulb, every cup of coffee bought, it represents a little bit of light in a world often riddled with darkness for our officers.

This last week has truly been the valley.  Would you pray with me?  For every family, every survivor, every child that is wishing they could see their hero again.  “But God,” may we all pray.  “But God, He is faithful.  Even in the darkest of hours.”  

Want to help support the family?  You can do so here.

Dear Police Wife

Dear Police Wife,

I know you, I am you.  I know you are hurting, I am hurting.  These last two weeks have shaken us to the very core.  I’ve watched in horror as our brave men and women in law enforcement have been murdered because of the uniform they wear.  I’ve shared in your messages, prayers and calls for peace toward law enforcement.  I’ve cried with those close to me and hugged those who anxiously wait for their beloved husband to come home.  I know, all too well, that sinking feeling as they walk out the door and you begin to count the minutes until their shift is over.

I’ve sat in anger with you as we watched our very own President use a memorial service to push his agenda.  I’ve fought with my own mother over the recent police shootings and the media.  I could talk until I’m blue in the face about escalation and use of force and to no avail.  Why bother.  I’m utterly exhausted and quite frankly, now I’m just mad.  I am mad that our men and women in law enforcement are being put in such danger because of the environment that BLM and other people in authority have created.

After yet another brutal killing of our Peace Officers in Baton Rouge this morning, Sheriff Jeff Wiley of the Ascension Parish Sheriff’s Office said it best. “To those who have for several years now “Whipped up” a frenzy of anti-police rhetoric and repeatedly described the law enforcement and general public relationship as “corrosive” and disrespectful… I say this to you… get to know these usually young men and women, look into their eyes and into their hearts before you pre-judge. They are splendid peace keepers, brave in response and humble in their service to others. They are NOT killers, NOT racist, and NOT haters, just simply put they are sons, daughters, wives, mothers, and fathers, who answer to a higher calling, that of being a professional law enforcement officer.  Those that spew this hate of law enforcement and promote this regrettable divisiveness need to stand down and reflect on the environment you have helped create.”

Of course we know this.  We know that our officer has come home devastated because he couldn’t save someone.  It didn’t matter what color their skin was.  We know that our officer has come home mad that the same woman was attacked by her ex-husband for the second, third, fourth time, even though he just arrested him.  It didn’t matter what neighborhood she lived in.  We know how our officer has spent our money on putting gas in someone’s car.  It didn’t matter what kind of car they drove.  We’ve seen the joy on our officer’s face when they’ve come home after night shift and they were able to surprise someone with a new light for their bicycle, so they can safely ride to and from work in the dark.  It didn’t matter why they didn’t have a license.  We know that the big bad police officer is actually a softie when it comes to his little girl.  We know that if you want to get on his good side, just crack a joke or quote Kevin Hart.  We know that they are brave, strong and more honorable than anyone will ever understand.  They are mothers and fathers, dear friends and sons and so many other things to us.  We know this.


How do we continue on with our head high and our hearts at peace?  When everything around us wants us to worry every time they walk out the door.  Remember the words of our Heavenly Father in Isaiah 26:3, “You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you.”  Press in to that peace.

If there is one piece of encouragement I could give you today, it’s this.


Press On.


Press on toward all that your officer and your family is sacrificing for.  Press on for a better community, better neighborhoods and holding that Thin Blue Line.  Press on for a strong marriage, even if it is scary right now.  Press on as a strong mother, who is brave for her children and cheerful in the face of adversity.  Press on.

Press on in honor.  Your family is honorable.  Your officer is honorable.  You are honorable.

This calling is not for the faint of heart and you dear wife, you are as strong as they get.  Remember to lean on each other during this time.  Pray for one another.  Make plans with one another.  Do a shift meal or a play date together.  Our sheepdogs will be out standing guard, lets be rallying together and working toward having a solid fortress of peace for them to come home to.  Good always wins.