I was deep in prayer. During a lull in the service, my friend and I discussed all the terrorist attacks in our churches and synagogues. “Oh, don’t worry,” he said. “If anything happens here, I’m ready.” He opened his jacket revealing a pistol in his waistband holster. There is no such thing as coincidences. I truly believe that it was God who placed me there that Shabbat (Sabbath) morning to show me exactly what I had to do. I was not going to sit idly by anymore and be a victim. I will not depend on others to protect me until our brave first responders arrive on the scene. I decided to implement the age-old, Holocaust proverb: “Never again.” I was going to find a way for this soon-to-be octogenarian, who never fired a handgun in his life, to learn how to safely and accurately defend myself, my family, and …