Reunited!

I first met SuLee three years ago. She had recently been resettled in the US as a Karen refugee from Burma, along with her two-year-old daughter. SuLee was a student in required English language classes, where I was a volunteer.

SuLee was a bright and hard-working student. She made friends quickly with the teacher and the other students. One day I wore a small gold cross pendant. I sat with SuLee during our break time, and she noticed my cross; her eyes lit up as she asked me if I love Jesus. I responded yes, I do, and she eagerly told me that she also loves Jesus. That was the beginning of our friendship.

SuLee brought much fun and happiness to our English classes. She was eager to learn and answer questions, and encouraged the other students to do the same. Even with her limited English, she loved to make jokes.

As our friendship grew, I learned that SuLee and her daughter lived only a few miles from me. I asked the local resettlement agency if I could be their cultural mentor, helping with things like giving rides to appointments and visiting in their home. SuLee invited me to her daughter’s birthday parties, and also to Karen worship in her apartment. I didn’t understand more than a few words, but I knew many of the hymn tunes and sang along in English. I took SuLee and her daughter to the zoo, to local parks, and to worship at my church. I collect used children’s books for her daughter, who loves to sit with me and “read.” She also loves to color and play catch with me.

SuLee likes to cook for me when I visit her in her home. She always asks me to pray before we eat, and for three years the prayers always included a common request: Please, Lord, release SuLee’s husband from the refugee camp in Thailand and send him here soon to be reunited with his family.

SuLee and her husband were both Karen refugees from Burma. They met and married in a refugee camp in Thailand, and their daughter is now five years old. Before this couple met and married, they had each begun their resettlement process separately, as single people. For that reason, when SuLee’s process was completed, she was allowed to resettle in the US with their daughter, but her husband was not allowed to go with them.

Three long years later, his process was finally completed. A date was set for him to travel. We waited eagerly, but a few days before his intended travel, it was cancelled. I don’t know why, but he was not allowed to leave the refugee camp. We continued to pray.

Meanwhile, the king of Thailand died. King Bhumibol reigned for more than 70 years, and the people of Thailand loved him. My friends and a little research tell me that the king left a good daughter who loves the people, and a bad son who doesn’t care about the people. Unfortunately, the son was the crown prince, his father’s choice to become the next king. My friends were worried about what would happen next. Would refugees be allowed to leave the country? We continued to pray.

Another travel date was set, December 14. Still we prayed. December 14 came and went. Now SuLee told me that December 22 her husband would come. More prayers. Finally, on December 23, SuLee told me that her husband had arrived the previous night! That news, along with photographic proof, were perhaps the best gift I received this year for Christmas. After three years apart, three years of heartfelt prayers, God answered. God was faithful to reunite this precious family at Christmastime. Praise God!

 

 

 

 

Why I Marched

I’m a progressive Christian, and I’m pro-life. Many people think people like me don’t exist. Sometimes I wonder if I’m the only one, but I know I’m not alone. Many Christians think that all progressives and liberals are pro-abortion. And many liberals think that all Christians are backward, hateful hypocrites. I’ve heard that the Women’s March didn’t allow pro-life women to march, but nobody asked me to leave. All I felt was love. I’m pro-life, and in a much fuller sense of the word than simply pro-birth. Jesus came to give us life, and life ABUNDANT.

Life begins with conception. Yes. But as a follower of Jesus, my obligation to protect life does not end with a baby’s birth. Jesus calls me to protect life by providing decent healthcare, education, and housing for ALL. Jesus calls me to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and visit the sick and imprisoned. I take Him at His word in Matthew 25. Jesus tells us that whatever we do for the least of these, we do for Him. He calls me to welcome the stranger, the foreigner, the DACA recipients, the refugees and asylum seekers; to protect those who are fleeing war, torture, and violence. Jesus calls me to stand for the rights of women and girls the world over, for people of every color. He calls me to stand for the life and dignity of people with disabilities. I’m even pro-life and pro-equal rights for LGBTQ folks. I take Jesus at His word when He says, “Do not judge, or you too will be judged.”

The Bible calls me to steward the environment, which sustains human life on earth. If we don’t take care of the home God gave us, there will not be any life for much longer. Climate change is real.

I’m for Fair Trade. I’m for a living wage. I’m for treating others as I would want to be treated. I’m for loving my neighbor—all my neighbors on this entire planet. I’m for LIFE ABUNDANT, FOR ALL.

Jesus was at the Women’s March. I saw Him. I saw Jesus in the women and girls of all ages. I saw Jesus in the people with tattoos and piercings. I saw Jesus in the men young and old who marched to support women’s rights. I saw Him carrying a sign that read “Undocumented and Unafraid.” I saw Him in the black man who applauded our march with tears in his eyes. I saw Him in the police officers who blocked traffic for us to march safely, and in the people who thanked them for doing their job well. I saw Jesus at the March.

The Women’s March was not a gathering of victims, complainers, or whiny women. It was a demonstration of strength in unity, asking that ALL people be treated with love, care, and respect. The most common chant I heard was: “No hate. No fear. Everyone is welcome here.” It was a demonstration of inclusion, equal rights, education, and health care for ALL. Documented estimates of how many people marched range from 3-5 MILLION. There were hundreds of marches across the country and around the world. Thank God that they were PEACEFUL. No arrests were made at the Women’s March.

Those friends I walked with? Also followers of Jesus. These sisters are women who have slept on floors with me mentoring young teens, inside the local rescue mission. We have eaten together with youth at the local soup kitchen. We have taken young people to the same park where we marched, given sack lunches to homeless people there, and listened to their stories. These women serve with me as volunteers for refugees, teaching them English, mentoring families, and watching the children so their moms can be together and sew. They join me monthly in prayer, and they serve on church committees, trying to teach others how to serve. None of us does these things to earn a reward. Faith without works is not faith at all. Jesus’ followers will be known by their love. Jesus came to:

preach good news to the poor…

proclaim freedom for the prisoners

and recovery of sight for the blind,

to release the oppressed,

to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.

If we’re following Jesus, that’s where He’s leading.

I marched for my gay friends who love Jesus. I marched for my refugee friends. I marched for my friends who have lived through rape and abortions. I marched for my Muslim friends. I marched for the women who are groped and abused and underpaid every day. I marched for the girls and boys who are marketed and sold for other people’s pleasure and profit. I marched for Native Americans, the only Americans who are not immigrants. I marched to bring liberals and Christians together—the two terms are not mutually exclusive. Jesus told me to love my neighbor, and that’s why I marched. My loyalty is to Jesus, not to any political party. We’re all broken and in need of a savior, and Jesus came for all of us, to bring us life—life abundant.

 

 

 

Sharing Hope for the Holidays

Imagine that you’re a child living in Honduras, Guatemala, or El Salvador, places where gangs control the barrios. The police are corrupt, and either can’t control the gangs or are in cahoots with them. Your mother is extorted weekly, forced to pay a bribe in order to sell the clothing she sews. You’ve stopped going to school because you’re afraid to walk through gang territory to get there. The gangs are trying to recruit you, but you don’t want to join. You saw what happened to your cousin… he was killed by the gangs. Then they came after your older brother.

Your father moved to the US two years ago to find work to support your family. When the gangs threatened to rape your sister, your mother decided it was time for your family to leave your home and join your father. You’ve taken buses, ridden on top of a train, and walked through wilderness. Finally, you sat in an inner tube while your mother pushed you across a river.

Once on the other side, where your mother told you your family would be safe, some officers took you to a cold, brightly-lit building. You had only the floor to sleep on, and one cold sandwich to eat for the next 14 hours. After that place, they put you on a bus and moved you somewhere else. Here you share one room with your family, but you can’t leave the room without permission and guards to accompany you. Even then you can only go to the cafeteria or the clinic. And there’s always a long line at the clinic because it seems like everyone else is sick, too. You don’t have any toys or books, and no friends. You can’t play outside. You thought you were supposed to be safe here and live with your father, but this place is a jail!

Christmas is coming soon, but you won’t be with your father, your grandparents, or any of your tios, tias, or cousins. You won’t have a Christmas tree, a stocking, or tamales. Will Santa Claus know where to find you? Will there be any cards or presents or treats this year?

Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Service (LIRS) reached out this Advent to children in exactly these and similar circumstances. The US has immigrant detention centers in almost every state, including three that house children, in Dilley and Karnes, Texas, and Berks, Pennsylvania. LIRS organized a drive to collect Christmas cards and gifts to deliver to the children in these detention centers.

A group of compassionate friends joined me to write and decorate Christmas cards for the children. We showed a video to introduce people to immigration detention, and then we went to work! We played Christmas music to keep the atmosphere cheery. We wrote Spanish phrases with colorful pens, things like, “Welcome to America. We’re glad you’re here!” and “I wish you love, hope, and peace this Christmas.” We plastered fun stickers all over the cards and drew pictures. We even had Spanish/English Bibles available for those who wanted to write Bible verses in the cards. Together we sent 232 Christmas cards to LIRS to distribute inside the detention centers. Several of us also donated money to buy gifts for the children.

While this was a fun activity, the reasons for it are anything but fun. I pray that next year we won’t need to write such cards. I pray that by then our country will realize that children don’t belong in jail. I pray that our country will welcome asylum seekers who come to the US simply to live, parents and children running for their lives.

Meanwhile, a few of us are exploring how we can begin a visitation ministry inside the nearest immigration detention centers. My motivation is to follow Jesus, and based on Matthew 25 I believe Jesus is living among the least of these, my sisters and brothers in detention.

 

To read more about why asylum seekers come to the US, read Childhood Stolen by Street Gangs

To read more about the LIRS Christmas card and gift delivery, read Sharing Hope

You might also want to check out these videos for an introduction to immigration detention:

A Tradition of Welcome

Locked in a Box

 

 

Winter Party

Each year the local refugee resettlement agency throws a winter party for the refugees in the local community, as well as for partners and those who volunteer with refugees in any capacity: as cultural mentors, English language teachers, drivers, tutors, etc.

The pastor of the host church opens with prayer, and tells the honored guests (the refugees), “You are welcome, you are needed, you are loved.” The rest of the party embodies those words. There’s a potluck meal, so we enjoy food from a dozen or more different countries. Volunteers supervise numerous activities to delight the children: face painting, ornament making, gingerbread houses, cookie decorating. Local partners and community members donate mountains of toys—stuffed animals, soccer balls, dolls, art sets, cars, and games. The children get to choose toys of their own to bring back to their otherwise toy-less homes.

Hospitality and joy abound as we share food, gifts, memories, and songs together. Many guests wear colorful traditional clothing from their home countries. The director of the resettlement agency asks for one representative of every country present to come forward and say a few words in their own language—to me this is a sneak peek of Revelation 7:9, “After this I saw a vast crowd, too great to count, from every nation and tribe and people and language, standing in front of the throne and before the Lamb.” Inevitably the party turns to song and dance, our newest neighbors from a multitude of cultures and continents joining hands to celebrate together their newfound life and friendships.

This year we had the fun of celebrating with both the family we mentored last year, from Burundi, and the newest family we’re mentoring, from Democratic Republic of Congo. Our friends and their friends took turns posing for photos and passing around phones and cameras to document the occasion. Children and adults alike sampled foods new and foreign to them. Children played and created and celebrated. Together we joyfully celebrated new friendships, new families, new homes, and newfound community.

 

Las Posadas

Las Posadas (the inns or shelters) has quickly become one of my favorite Christmas celebrations. In the traditional pilgrimage, participants reenact the journey of Mary and Joseph from Nazareth to Bethlehem, searching for a place for Jesus to be born. In some countries, Las Posadas takes place over nine nights, from December 16 to December 24.

Where I live, Las Posadas happens on one evening in December. Two children dress up as Mary and Joseph, and lead the procession. The pilgrims (the other participants) carry candles and sing a traveling song—in Spanish—as we walk. The song goes like this:

Vamos todos a Belen
Con amor y gusto
Adoremos al Señor
Nuestro redentor.

Let’s all go to Bethlehem
With love and happiness
Let us adore the Lord
Our redeemer.

The procession stops at two prearranged places, where the pilgrims sing different songs requesting shelter. At each door, the pilgrims are refused entrance. Finally, at the third door, Mary and Joseph and the pilgrims are welcomed in and everyone sings the Entrance Song:

Entren santos peregrinos,
Reciban este rincón;
Que aunque es pobre la morada,
Os la doy de corazón.

Enter holy pilgrims,
Receive this corner;
For though this dwelling is poor,
I offer it from the heart.

Our local celebration includes authentic Mexican food for dinner, traditional singers and dancers, and small gifts and candy. The hall is decorated with piñatas in the shape of seven-pointed stars, to represent the Seven Deadly Sins.

Las Posadas is a poignant reminder of the immigrants and refugees seeking shelter in our world today. When we celebrate Las Posadas in December it’s often cold, and sometimes windy, icy, or snowy. In those conditions, we can’t help but think of those seeking shelter in our community and around the world. Mary and Joseph also remind us of the millions of refugees. After Jesus was born his family became refugees in Egypt when they fled King Herod’s Slaughter of the Innocents. How will we respond? Will we turn away those seeking asylum, or will we welcome them with food, shelter, and celebration? For me, Las Posadas is an affirmation of my own commitment to continue to welcome the stranger.

 

 

American Dream

I love October. The summer heat has receded, and the leaves are resplendent in their autumn colors. We celebrate World Communion Sunday in October; my favorite Fair Trade fair takes place this weekend; and the Cubs are in the playoffs! What’s not to love?

This particular October is especially meaningful for me. I’ve started a new volunteer gig, in the immigration legal services office. I’m putting into practice what I learned in my immigration law course, and continuing to learn in a real-world setting how to best serve immigrants. When I came into the office the first morning, who was there but my friend Daniel from Burundi! My husband and I and some friends formed the mentor team to help Daniel and his family settle here and understand the community. They’ve been in the US for just over a year now, and I’d been planning to contact him to ask if they had an appointment to apply for their green cards. But they beat me to it—they already had an appointment scheduled, and are working on the preliminary paperwork.

The following Monday I spent time with my Karen friend Ruth from Burma. Ruth has been in the US for almost 7 years, and is now a citizen. She will vote in November’s election!

Tuesday brought the African women’s gathering, where I saw Daniel’s wife, Gloria, among others. The women have been gathering monthly for fellowship and support. At their first meeting 14 women, dressed in colorful African garb, participated in an hour of instruction on the djembe drum. The women started slowly at first, but the energy built quickly and the walls between the women broke down. In a room nearby, the children danced to the sounds of the drums. By the end of their time together, the women planned to meet every month. Since then they’ve brought African food for a potluck, and they’ve been learning the basics of machine sewing. Now they want to meet more often, and learn how to sew “real clothes.”

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Yesterday my husband and I drove to Denver to visit some of the Nepali families we mentored when they first arrived here four years ago. Two of the brothers have purchased a large, beautiful house together! Not yet citizens, they’re already realizing the American Dream.

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Are my refugee friends assimilating to life in the US? Undoubtedly. Are they contributing to society? Absolutely! Are they dangerous, a threat to America’s security and way of life? Ha! Not even close. They’re thankful to live in a land of opportunity, where they can work, educate their children, and practice their respective religions freely. This is the America I believe in, and I thank God for it. What is my American Dream? To continue to help the newest Americans achieve their dreams.

 

 

Reflections from a Pilgrim: El Camino del Inmigrante

A few weeks ago I introduced you to El Camino del Inmigrante, the 11-day, 150-mile walk from the southern US border at Tijuana to Los Angeles. People of faith walked in solidarity with immigrants on a pilgrimage to highlight immigrant stories and to raise awareness of the need for change in the immigration system.

El Camino del Inmigrante was the brainchild of Noel Castellanos, inspired by El Camino de Santiago de Campostela in Spain. More than 170 walkers joined El Camino, and over 50 churches participated by feeding and/or sheltering the walkers. The youngest person to participate was 3 months old; the youngest walker to complete the entire trip was 11 years old; and the oldest walker was 79. One participant traveled over 2,800 miles from Guatemala to participate.

Today I’d like to introduce you to my dear friend and soul sister, Nancy Gagner. Nancy is my partner in prayer and ministry for refugees and immigration advocacy. Nancy participated in El Camino for the first three days of the walk.

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Why did you walk?

I’ve had a heart for refugees, immigrants, the stranger since the 1970s. As I’ve continued to be involved in mostly a background way, like through teaching ESL, through literacy classes with children and cultural mentoring, I’ve realized more and more that compassionate immigration reform is an issue that needs to be addressed.

This migrant crisis is the biggest humanitarian crisis of our generation, and I feel like the church can’t just continue to sit on the sidelines. I personally feel that there’s more of a need for boldness, so as an individual I can do that and maybe I can encourage other people to do that, and hopefully the churches will start stepping up and becoming strong, vocal advocates.

I loved having my daughter-in-law, Megan Gagner, with me. As you get older, you think about what kind of legacy you want to leave for your children and your grandchildren, how you want them to remember you. I want to be remembered as somebody that cared about the stranger and was willing to do something about immigration reform. Since I do have a son and daughter-in-law in San Diego, I very possibly will have grandchildren there. I love the idea of them thinking sometime, or my daughter-in-law saying, “Oh, your grandmother and I walked along this street supporting immigration reform, we walked in solidarity and did something.” Hopefully that’s how they will remember me and think about me.

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Did you have any fears or anxieties before beginning El Camino?

No. Right away I thought, I could do this! It sparked an interest in me. I have a hard time feeling like, Oh God is calling me to this! with certainty, so I remember I went home that night and I wrote down all the reasons why it would be a good positive thing to do, and I had a long list, and I couldn’t come up with anything negative. But I still wasn’t sure, so I prayed about it. In women’s Bible study I heard a young woman speak and her talk was “Born to Be Wild.” She was talking about how God does not want us to have these boring quiet lives. He wants us to step out in faith and do things. The last thing she said was, “So put on your peace shoes and walk somewhere!” Then it was pretty clear and I thought, Yes I’m called to do this.

I had the blessing of walking with my daughter-in-law, which hadn’t been planned. She came to the launch and decided to walk with me that day. The first day we walked 10 miles to Imperial Beach. Then she showed up again the next day and walked 16 miles. She has a heart for immigrants. She’s on the board of a small orphanage in Tijuana, and she crosses the border every month to work with the orphans and meet with the staff at this orphanage. I’ve been able to do that with her a couple times, and I want to continue to, because I believe it’s a way that we can address one of the root problems, especially as far as making sure the children have education and are well cared for, so they hopefully will not ever have to feel the need to cross the border.

Tell me about the border, about Friendship Park.

It’s really strange because you’re by this beautiful ocean, and then you realize that to the left there’s this wall. It’s actually two walls. You can see Tijuana on the one side, and there were lots of Mexican children and a lot of older women. We were on our side of the fence and they were on their side of the fence. We were waving at each other and holding our hands up in a prayer position, and they would be doing the same. We’re so close but yet so far. It’s uncomfortable with all the Border Patrol, and they carry big guns, and they’re all over the place. You have this beautiful beautiful setting, but it’s this wall that is so cruel.

Did you talk to people on the other side?

No, we were too far away and we weren’t supposed to do that.

How did it make you feel when you saw the wall and the people?

That was very sad and again, because we’re so close and most of them have loved ones in the United States that they don’t get to see. They told us that often people come every Saturday with the hopes that their relatives might be across on the US side and they at least could wave to each other or blow kisses. When I think of my own children or grandchildren having to live like that…

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Thousands of families—many separated for years, or even decades—come to Friendship Park each year. More than anything else, they tell us, they wish they could hug their loved ones. Yet Border Patrol now allows hugging only once a year, in an event staged for the media in which just a few pre-selected families get to hug for just a few minutes. This policy gives the false impression of openness and hope.
(http://www.friendshippark.org) Border Park is open on the US side on Saturdays and Sundays from 10am – 2 pm.

Tell me about the crosses.

We planted crosses in the sand the first morning. Some had the name of someone who had died while crossing. Others had words or phrases in Spanish. Then we picked them up after our prayer service and walked with them.

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Describe a typical day.

We would start in the morning with devotions, and that was usually 6:30. One morning in particular when we were on Imperial Beach there was an Episcopalian church that brought breakfast burritos for everybody. People stayed in different places: some people stayed in churches, some people stayed in hotels, some people stayed with friends. So we always had a meeting place so we could get on the road by 7, because it did get hot. We started with devotions in English and Spanish.

We usually walked until at least 2:00, sometimes until 5 or 6. So there wasn’t a lot of downtime before the debrief and dinner. Various churches provided dinner and space for an evening program. Our debriefs focused on specific immigration issues, such as child migrants or human trafficking.

What was the walking like?

I loved it from the beginning. I loved the intentionality of it, and the rhythm we would get into. The time went so quickly because I was always talking to someone really interesting. There were so many people from so many of these sponsor organizations in particular, with lots of great stories that people were able to share. We had crosses and bandanas on our backpacks, so people that were riding their bikes or walking by would stop and ask, “What are you doing?” So we had a chance to tell them. It was hot in the middle of the afternoon, and our feet were aching at night. One of the walkers was a nurse who would treat blisters each evening.

The first day I didn’t do it I was missing it SO much. I was in the airport just pacing. They continued posting the devotions and debriefs on facebook, and comments throughout the day. So it was really fun to feel like I was still a part of it. But it also made it hard because I really wanted to be there. It was that experience that you have on mission trips where they talk about that thin place, the intersection of heaven and God’s Kingdom on earth. You feel a lot of sorrow afterward, when you’re no longer in that place.

What did you feel spiritually?

I loved being so intentional and so in the moment. There wasn’t a whole lot else that I was thinking about other than the person I was talking to or what I was learning. It was nice realizing how little you need in order to experience inner joy. If you’re doing something that God has instructed you to do and you’re following in the way I’ve heard his voice. It’s very peaceful and hard to leave that setting and replicate that. But it was beautiful when it happened, and a wonderful memory to try to keep fresh in my mind.

It made me think about how we use the idea of comfort and security as idols sometimes. We did have security, we knew that we would have a place to stay at night. We didn’t necessarily know where or what we would be eating, but we knew that food was coming. I was not in control, not having to feel in control, but feeling very confident that the Lord had it under control.

It’s hard to think of the immigrants crossing without having adequate water. We all had water bottles, and every 5 miles they had arranged for water stops. We knew that if we ran out, we would be able to get some more. Certainly we weren’t going hungry. We knew that if we tripped or fell there would be help. Get on your phone and somebody would be there in ten minutes. It was hot, so you do realize how that must be terribly hard, plus the danger that they’re actually going through, whereas we weren’t actually afraid of anything. We didn’t have to have that fear.

It was wonderful to be with so many people that felt the same way and are working toward the same things, beautiful to see so many of God’s people coming together. There was such an energy being in this group. The encouragement was great. A lot of times I feel like I’m pretty alone in my concern for the stranger. It was one of the highlights of my life.

What was the most challenging?

Once I came back here, trying to process it all, and feeling this sadness that it’s over. Not over for the immigrants, but seeing things now in a bigger picture and understanding what they’re going through. It’s also challenging to figure out what kind of role I should now play. What does God want me to do next?

What did you learn?

I learned that I can have a voice. I tend to be more of a quiet person and work behind the scenes, but sometimes you do need to step up and be a little more vocal and a little more bold. It can be the right thing to do. It can certainly be done in a gentle way, so I think that’s something I’m going to try to really focus on: being gentle yet bold. There’s a way that both can be done. I feel even stronger commitment to see this through. Hopefully change will happen in my lifetime.

What would you like to see happen in US policy?

One of the most important things is somehow being able to reunite families. I think the people already in the United States need to be given some legal status. I think we need to recognize the valuable work that so many people are already doing in the US. We need to value that.

What would you like to see churches do?

Read the Bible more. Hear the biblical references to welcoming the stranger, loving the stranger, have that preached from the pulpit, because I think one of the big problems is a lot of people have no idea that this is very biblical. It’s not something that a political party just came up with. I think people need to know what the Bible says, what Jesus says.

What’s your next step? What did you take away? 

I mentioned the orphanage in Tijuana. I’ve been there a couple times now, and I hope to continue visiting whenever I’m in San Diego, which is usually a couple times a year. I’m a financial donor for that too. It’s getting at the root problem, so people in those countries will be safe.

I’m thinking about getting more involved with Border Angels. I’d love to do an exposure trip with them. My daughter-in-law and I have talked about that, maybe doing a water drop or something.

I’m continuing to work for a more expansive refugee/immigration ministry at my church.

And continuing to be a voice through signing petitions or actually showing up maybe in front of the Capitol someday, supporting any legislation or policy changes where I could possibly have something to say.

I feel that I have an obligation to be a voice for God’s heart for the stranger. I don’t have a choice as a follower of Jesus. In the churches we need to help shape the narrative reflective of God’s plan for welcoming the stranger. We need to be a part of it, not just sit on the sidelines.

 

For more on what God’s Word says about welcoming the stranger, check out my post, “God’s People on the Move.”
https://stand4welcome.wordpress.com/2016/07/03/gods-people-on-the-move/

To read about El Camino in the San Diego Union Tribune, click here:
http://www.sandiegouniontribune.com/news/2016/aug/20/border-to-la-walk-aimed-at-immigration-reform/

To view a highlight video of El Camino, click here:
https://www.dropbox.com/s/g7cy22uq56mevcu/El%20Camino%20RECAP.mp4?dl=0