i don't, but tornadoes

as i drove by the downed power lines, trees tossed like old drinking straws to the ground, and damaged roofs, i bit my lip and choked back tears along with humility.

i hadn't even stopped to pray.

grief filled my chest, albeit along side gratitude, as i drove the windy, country road just a mile from my school. to think, this could've been us, wow. it was heartbreaking.

you literally could see the path of destruction the tornado had taken, as it winded between homes lining blair road. it was something many fortunately only witness in movies, and to see it before my very eyes was devastating.

among the crying, and huddling, and hiding our heads, between escorts to the bathroom, and fanning the kids with a folder, and calming those as the electric flickered, between checking the warnings on my iphone app, and informing the other teachers, i hadn't even stopped to pray. to be completely honest, it didn't even cross my mind throughout the commotion. i don't even think i realized the danger or the gravity of the situation until i saw it first-hand this afternoon on my commute home.

i'm convicted, because this shows me that i have a far way to go. no matter when i think it is, apparently prayer isn't always second nature to me. i'm humbled, because this could've easily been our school. i'm grateful, for His protection, as not one person was injured, and we had nearly 1,100 children and teachers at our school, and a parking lot full of parents and siblings that were waiting for dismissal.

viewing any path of destruction, even our own, should remind us of all we have to be thankful for, and how His hand is so generous to protect us, even when we fail to call out to Him.