His Name Is Brian

Last Sunday our church had a First Responders’ lunch for the local fire and police departments. The main entrée is chili (this is Texas) but along with the five crockpots of chili were chicken enchiladas, various soups, cornbread, salads and veggies and enough desserts to give everyone a sugar high. As a policeman started by our table with his bowl of chili plus Fritos and cheese, I said we have questions. He was obviously looking to sit with his buddies but instead he sat down at our table. Brian is easily more than six feet tall and probably weighs 250 pounds at least. He’s a big guy. But he sat down with a couple of us women and answered our questions, whether insignificant or more serious. Had he ever been shot! No, he hadn’t. He’s married with a couple of kids and has been on the force for 11 years. He’s a policeman because he wants to make a difference in his community. He was wearing 30 pounds of gear around his waist and he had a bullet-proof vest under his shirt. He showed us his Taser. He explained training procedures for new recruits. He told us about an experience when he shot at a lock on a door to get to a man reported to have hostages. Meeting Brian gives me a renewed appreciation for those men and women who face danger every day for our protection. I have a new name on my prayer list. His name is Brian.

 

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