It's
A Dispatcher's Prayer...
Lord, they're
in our hands tonight, Yours and mine ~
These guys who
keep the peace and fight the crime.
They're men with
wives and families, and feelings, too.
They give themselves
for our protection, those men in blue.
I know my part
in this is crucial too.
I must inform
those men in blue
When trouble strikes,
and where.
And send them
quickly, no time to spare.
I cannot see the
scene from where I sit.
My eyes and ears
scan the console, brightly lit.
I must wait in
blind suspense to hear each "ten-four",
As they let me
know they have survived one time more.
I know a part
of them that few others ever see ~
Their eyes reflecting
scenes depicting how cruel life can really be.
A battered child,
a senseless wreck, or a murderer set free,
A brother-in-arms
shot down, never more to be.
I'll make the
coffee, and keep it fresh and strong.
They'll stop by
for a cup or two, but not for long ~
Another call,
a plea, or just a happen stance.
Duty will beckon,
"Come, time to take another chance."
I'll answer the
phone and questions, too.
And dig out the
stats and records they ask me to.
I'll review their
reports, and of course joke with them.
I'll even put
off that reporter dials on "my men".
Let me, Lord,
speak calm and clear
To those out there
while I'm in here.
I'm their link,
and they are mine
In this partnership
of fighting crime.
It seems to me
that we're all a team ~
"They, You, and
me," I mean.
I'll do my best,
and they will, too.
But, still, Lord,
we need You to see us through!
Amen
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