And then the horrid reality hit me.

December 2, 2015--A bulletin popped up on my computer that there had been a shooting in San Bernardino, CA. My heart clenched. But there was no way any of my family could be involved. San Bernardino is a big place. So, I closed the bulletin and returned to work. A few minutes later, I got a text from my mother reassuring me my aunt was alright. What? I instantly returned to the bulletin and scanned every detail. And then the horrid reality hit me. My aunt worked in that building. My pulse accelerated; my head spun. No. That couldn't be right. She didn't have some high government job. The building wasn't exactly high-profile. What was going on? And then the second truth hit me. My dad was on duty in a neighboring city, and the SBPD was pulling in all available resources. There was no way he wasn't going to his sister, which meant he would be right in the thick of things, all dressed in blue. For the next three hours, I did nothing but watch news station coverage and text every single family member in the area. Being in Phoenix suddenly felt more isolating than I had yet known. "What can I do?" I cried. "I'm so helpless!" Even later, knowing my aunt was alright and had been escorted from the scene, all I wanted to do was go to her, to cook her meals, to hold her hand, to be there. But...I couldn't. I could do. nothing.

"Nothing?" A little voice in the back of my mind asked. "Really?" I shook my head, trying to calm myself. They were okay. My family was fine. "Danielle," nagged that little voice. "Danielle, you know what you can do."

So, feeling so lost and useless and unsure, I bowed my head and began a steady stream of pleadings with the Creator of the Universe. My pride bucks against me admitting this. I am a seminary student. I have dedicated my life to cross-cultural ministry. And yet prayer still felt like a last resort, that tool you pull out when there's no other option. Anyone relate? I was at once ashamed and desperate. But I shoved those feelings aside while I longed for the safety of my family members.

Prayer. How many times have I taught on its power? How many times have I taught that prayer is the greatest weapon of the Christian faith? How often have I urged my brothers and sisters to come before Him in quietness and submission and trust in His good will? If I truly believe that God is in control, should I not go to Him first before all else? If I truly believe that as a believer in Christ, I have all access to the all-powerful King, should I not race to his throne? If I truly believe that He can part the seas and raise the dead, should I not first seek His intercession? Why does prayer seem so small and far away? We are a culture of action and independence. Reliance on someone else to 'solve our problems' bucks against how we were raised to live. Yet our worlds are full of problems so much bigger than ourselves. I believe in a God who can do all things, ready to hear my voice.

I love prayer. I truly do. I love coming before my King in the quiet and pouring out my heart. Because in that communion, my heart is safe. Prayer is more than that moment of crisis when bullets are flying, and fear steals the air from your lungs. Prayer is the driving force of our relationship with God. For what is a relationship without communication? Prayer is habitual, instinctual. Prayer is like picking up your cell to text your best friend when something amazing/horrible/hilarious/life-changing has happened.

I hope to bring prayer more to the forefront of my instincts in this next year. I pray that it will be the first thing I do when that news bulletin pops up on my feed, and that I not whisper words of hollow hope but cries that echo the heart of the Lord's.

Maybe this will mean creating a prayer regimen for myself until the discipline is ingrained in my personality.

Maybe this will mean asking someone to hold me accountable in my prayer life.

Maybe this will mean studying prayer in the lives of those who have walked before me.

I honestly do not know yet. I merely know that I have a God, a father, a King, who is waiting to hear me, who desires my companionship. Why would I squander such a relationship?