Sometimes you just want to be with people who know and love you; people you don’t have to explain yourself to, who accept you for who you are. That’s how I was feeling Sunday morning. That’s why I was so glad to be in church.

It had been a rough week for many of us. One brother had been out on the corner with some day laborers working through power struggles there. One sister patiently works all week with autistic children. Our pastors’ family and I had been visiting with a family whose son passed away tragically. A few of the women jumped in and put on a bridal shower for a young neighbor woman whose mom is out of the picture. Some of us had rallied to support the families of six men deported. I was coming into church feeling a bit beat up and bruised by the attempts we’d made all week to act justly, love mercy and walk humbly with God. It turns out that there is quite a bit of opposition to justice and mercy in our world and we were feeling it this week.

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