Define the borderlands.

My motivational, outspoken, wise friend, Elizabeth shares her wisdom about the border. There is still a lot for me to learn about the “legal” yet inhumane ways of our society yet this blog captures the racial, social, economic and overall plain injustice that lines the border.

Willow Wonderings

There are many ways that people have asked me to describe my experiences on the U.S.-Mexico border.
What did you see? Was it hot? Did you eat lots of Mexican food? Why is there so much conflict there?
Or my personal favorite: What were the people like, you know, the Mexicans?
Many times, people want a definition of what the situation looks like currently. They want to know why the wall keeps showing up in our newspapers and why ignorant members of our xenophobic political parties want to make the border the site of next of America’s genocide, if it does not qualify as such already.
My experience in Tucson, Arizona is limited eight weeks of a summer internship in a church that has a legacy of being involved with immigration reform. My job as a ministry intern was not only to learn about the intricacies of worship liturgy…

View original post 2,862 more words


Being Broken

One of my YAV friend’s blogs! Check out Jordan’s thoughtful notes on self-care.

Party in the PC(USA)

A year ago today, I broke my back. And then I worked the next day. How I broke it does not really matter…let’s just say I fell. What is important is how much I’ve learned from this one experience.

I broke it at a lock-in with my Jr. High clubbies (campers) around 1:00 or 2:00 am. The next morning I was in the nurse’s office right when it opened. She said I shouldn’t work. After I left the nurse, I worked. It hurt to move my left leg. It hurt to sit. It hurt to stand. I was in a lot of pain.

The next day, I got some sense and did not work. My boss told me I had to go to the doctor. So I did. He said my back was just badly bruised and I shouldn’t worry about getting an x-ray. He told me I shouldn’t work…

View original post 680 more words

Thank you Supporters!

Here’s a video that only begins to articulate my thanks to y’all! (Yes, I used y’all in the video. I have a couple roomates from the South and they’ve rubbed off on me).

Hi faithful blog readers!

I just want to send out a HUGE thanks to all those who have financially and prayerfully supported me through this imperfect, challenging, transforming, amazing year. A special thanks to those at Westminster Presbyterian Church in West Hartford, CT and Park Church in Elmira, NY. These two congregations have supported me throughout my youth (a special shout out to gretchen!), teens and then college years.

Westminster has been formative in my shaping and growing as a person and as a follower of Christ. I cannot even begin to share how embraced, beloved and loved I feel when I go home to this church community. They have kept in touch over the years, sent me care packages in college, created a youth program for myself and countless other youth, posted encouraging comments on my Facebook, worked alongside me on mission trips to D’Iberville, MS post Hurricane Katrina, dried my tears, given me a prayer shawl, taken me to Sonic to experience the awesomeness of Cherry Limeades, played countless games of sardines at C.H.A.O.S. (Christians Hanging Around on Sunday …aka: Youth Group), mentored me and tutored me in Statistics, taught me how Jesus is the perfect Brita water filter between us and God, taken me out to eat and asked me about my passions, joys, concerns, etc. It’s one thing to say, “We will support this child of God” at a child’s baptism but Westminster Presbyterian Church has FOLLOWED UP on that promise. Even throughout my YAV year, they have kept up with my blog, sold Pumpkin Bread as a Fundraiser, decided to financially contribute to the national YAV budget each year for the next few years, prayed for me, listened to me preach when I came home at Christmas, sent letters to me that I’ve posted on my wall (a special shout out to Linda G. and Natalie L).

2009-2010 032

Circa: 2009. An awkward, overly tye-dyed youth group photo at Broad Street Ministry. I’m all the way to the left. #classic #toomuchdye #getanotherbackground #Phillymissiontrip #phillycheesesteak

2009-2010 059

gretchen and I exploring a candy shop whilst in Philadelphia, PA on the same mission trip!

Park Church has also been a space in which I’ve encountered God and all of Her mysterious and majesty. “Whoever you are and wherever you are on life’s journey, you’re welcome here” would be the greeting that Rev. Felicity would start with each Sunday morning. Regardless of what I encountered that week, I always needed to hear this simple yet powerful phrase.


Here’s an Instagram picture of some sweet treats from the Park Church community to myself along with a plaque of the steeple of the sanctuary.

Desert Discoverings

I’ve realized images are often very powerful with readers! In an effort to show you the day-to-day of my life here in Tucson, I thought I’d post a few pictures.

Hen House Workout

From left: April, me, Hanbyeol, Allie, our workout instructor, Will, and Grace

The Hen House getting our workout on! April has been a huge encouragement to our house to “get physical” as a group from her church does “boot camp” 4 days a week at a local park. Throughout the year, we’ve all encouraged each other to try our best to get working out. From “Meet Me at Maynard’s” – a Monday evening walk downtown – to hiking Tummamoc to working out at the YMCA and encouraging each other to bike more. I know I need to work on being more consistent with my workouts so it’s great when we help each other out. This past week, we did a bunch of squats, wall sits, push ups, and crunches. I was sore for a couple of days.

Plumbing a toilet

“CHRPA school” on Thursday

As I’ve been volunteering at CHRPA (Community Home Repair Project of Arizona), I have been learning the “tricks of the trade” for plumbing, electricity, roofing, etc. Our jobs can be anything from: replacing or snaking out a toilet, replacing, re-wiring or starting a swamp cooler, patching a roof, ripping out a bathroom or kitchen floor and replacing the old plywood with a new piece to prevent a future leak. The picture above was taken by my housemate, Allie who also works at CHRPA along with my other housemate, Hanbyeol who is standing in the background to my right. This picture is of us unclogging a sample toilet and learning how to use a snake (the tool pictured above).


The picture above: My host padre (father), me and my host abuelo (grandfather). I was down in Agua Prieta, Mexico teaching English classes at DouglaPrieta Works for a week since my fellow YAV, James was on the 75-mile “Migrant Trail Walk.” (James’ trek went from Sasabe, Mexico to Tucson, Arizona in order to simulate the arduous, exhausting, dangerous, desperate, challenging journey that millions of migrants have made and will continue to make to the U.S.)

DouglaPrieta Works is a community center built by the Agua Prieta, Mexico and Douglas, AZ communities that empower women to gather together and learn how to cook, crochet, embroider, garden, raise chickens, land earn English.  The women extended hospitality towards me that reached a level that I have never experienced. I am humbled and continue to realize how much effort and attention to detail they took in order to make sure I had a meal everyday and a place to sleep every evening. Between all of the women, I had like four new mothers by the end of the week. I am still trying to process all that happened in Mexico. I cannot fully articulate all that I saw and experienced.

I got the chance to teach the women of DouglaPrieta Works (or DouglaPrieta Trabaja) English phrases for foods and sewing materials. Since many American and international groups come on “Border Delegations” in order to learn about border towns, they visit DouglaPrieta Trabaja about a Mexican community that is sustaining and empowering itself. People who live in Agua Prieta want their children to stay there and so they hope that creating this community center will create a stronger bond within their own community. Teaching English may seem counter intuitive but many of the women want to learn how to say phrases in English in order to interact with the guests from the United States and other parts of the world. Some of them have mentioned that they want their children to learn English so they can legally enter the United States. It was interesting seeing this dynamic between wanting to stay in Mexico yet also desiring another life in the United States in a relational context, not just in an article I read online.

It was a really awesome experience talking to my host father about his work in construction as I am learning a lot at CHRPA. He would teach me things about his own work and tell me about how he built his own home. It was awesome to have this connection with him because before, I would never know how to relate or talk to someone about construction. Let alone, in Spanish. (Before, I would definitely listen and want to know more but not actually have any context. Once again, I was reminded of how unique and felt greater appreciation for this YAV year as I further understand a trade I would never know about otherwise).

host family in Agua Prieta

My host family and I right outside the Mexican Presbyterian Church. I got the privilege of staying with two different families in Agua Prieta. (The only one not in the picture is my host dad!)

The host family that I stayed with – pictured above- had five children. I’ve always wanted to know what being in a larger family was like and so, I got a quick taste of it. I became the sixth child those couple of days. We spent a few days and nights together playing Candy Crush, hide-and-go seek, going to the Internet Cafe to check Facebook and to play video games, talking about differences and similarities between the United States and Mexico, teaching each other English and Spanish and eating wonderful food together. This family has a huge place in my heart. They are the definition of “unconditional hospitality.” Every moment of my time spent in Mexico, I felt so close to God’s embracing and unconditionally loving presence. Both families that I stayed with went above and beyond any expectation of hospitality that I could have imagined. They completely left me dumbfounded and humbled by how far they would go in order to make me feel at home. They offered me their bed and would feed me relentlessly and lovingly.

These are a few snap shots from the past month here in the Sonoran desert. They are definitely the high points. There have been low points too. But these days, I have been really amazed with how this year has given me everything that I needed when I needed to receive or give it. While I often did not see these gifts at the time and may have been too overwhelmed or challenged to see them, I am seeing how they are blessing my walk with a faithful God. God has given me everything that I “collaged” about earlier this year…just not in the way I had initially hoped for it to happen. But I am finding peace with that now because I see how I needed events and situations to happen in certain ways and in a certain order.

These beautiful, precious moments remind me of the goodness of this journey. It has been a challenging, inspiring, trying, testing, beautiful, confusing, unique, earth-shattering, humbling, empowering year. I am grateful for it all because if not, I would not have grown. I am thankful for growth. I still have much to learn but I am starting to reap the harvest of that growth.

Rest for the Weary.


On my way home from CHRPA. My housemates, Hanbyeol and Allie also work here. We ride roughly 7.4 miles to work, do physical labor all day and then bike home 7.4 miles. Did I mention that today reached 97°F?

“My yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:30

These sunny days in Tucson, I’ve been working at CHRPA (Community Home Repair Project of Arizona). It’s kind of similar to Habitat for Humanity, however, instead of building new homes, CHRPA staff and volunteers go into the homes of those who qualify as low-income, individuals with disabilities and those who are simply older and cannot get up on their roof in 100 °F weather (Heck! I have a hard enough time as a somewhat limber 23-year-old!) This is just a brief description. There is more at:

Today was in the 90s and 100s. IT IS HOT! When you step outside, you feel like you are entering a sauna. On a daily basis, we at CHRPA repair swamp coolers (an often cheaper alternative to Air Conditioning), rip out and reinstall toilets, roofs, bathroom sinks, kitchen sinks, water heaters, kitchen and bathroom floors, etc. The list is limitless!

Through my work at CHRPA, I have learned and been humbled to the max as I walk into people’s homes and they have holes in their ceilings and therefore, they cannot use that bedroom. I’ve been humbled as I have walked into countless homes and trailer homes and seen the home owners work alongside us to rebuild their homes…..(even as they are wearing a brace boot/cast to stabilize their broken/fractured/weak knee).

Many people have misconceptions about the people we assist. The reality: one of the women who sits in a wheelchair and who we helped one day said to me with tears streaming down her face, “I hate and don’t want to be a burden.”

I wanted to say something meaningful and full of wisdom like, “You are not a burden. I hope you see that this work gives me purpose and dive each day. We all must have time in our lives when we will take care of each other. I just hope there will be CHRPA staff and volunteers when I’m elderly.”  Instead, I just said, “Oh! Don’t worry. You are not a burden!”

Honestly, I was a little baffled and without many words. I did not know exactly how to answer because I saw this same fear that I often have of “not wanting to be a burden.” I saw my reflection in her, in her tear-sodden eyes.

But please, let me take this “burden” which is no longer and make it an instrument of blessing. Once again, I was reminded again about how beloved I am. These words that this woman spoke echoed in my ears the whole afternoon.


Each of our work trucks has a name (i.e. Lenny, Rosie, Walter G., Yavonne, etc).

The Things I Did Not Learn in College

Myself and my three best friends from college.

Myself and my three best friends from college.

This happened one year ago. June 1st, 2014….a day that will go down in infamy. Well, to me it will. For many other Facebook countless friends of mine, they will also have (or have had) a similar day. However, this is not the reality for millions upon billions more people around the world. On my news feed, I am not a minority. In the world’s population, I am a minority. I have been to college. It’s one of the things I admitted more feebly and timidly this past week when I was in Mexico teaching English. (I was subbing for the week while my fellow YAV, James was on the Migrant Trail walk. This is a 75-mile walk done in order to simulate – even the slightest bit – the trek that millions of migrants have taken across the Sonoran desert).

As I sat with my host father after dinner one night, he asked me what I had studied in college. I told him Adolescent Education and Adolescent English and that I was trying to decide this year and discern further if teaching is the career I wish to pursue. I told him that I had experienced how education seemed to be more respected in other countries besides America. Therefore – I also told him – it is not as respected and as a paid-well job in the United States as other jobs (i.e. optometrist, pediatrician, lawyer, etc). These are the complaints I have often heard from my teaching mentors and other family friends back home (New England society) and therefore, find myself repeating these same truths that I have found consistent with my own experience.

Next, my host father asked me how much I would make as a teacher in this new teaching job. (I am staying in Tucson after my YAV year and teaching at a local high school). I told him but I was afraid to admit a number that would be a little more than his wage. When he told me that he made $50 a week. My jaw dropped. “But you have this huge home!” I stated immediately, trying to find something to cover up my inaccurate, naive, and privileged comment about how teaching jobs don’t pay as well as other careers in the States. Well, this might be “true” in America but that would be “rolling in the dough” here in Mexico. Mi padre went on to explain more about how he had built this house and how he did all the foundation, cement, tiling, plumbing, roofing. All of it. Todo. My eyes kind of glazed over as I stayed fixated on his previous comment. But it didn’t even make sense. His house’s appearance did not match his income. How can someone who looks so happy and his house that seems to have so much come from an income that is so low? But that is the reality in Mexico, he told me.

Our conversation died down for the evening. I retreated to my departamento – the apartment off the side that the family rents out to bring in more income. They had let me stay in this whole room to myself. I felt selfish when I realized they could have rented it out this week to someone else other than me. I wish that they had so I would not be monopolizing the space. This reality check came after this conversation – when they moved the previous tenant’s furniture out of the room – so they could make space for me. I mean, that was not the only reason. She was moving out anyways. But they could have used that room. Instead, they wanted me to have it. Their hospitality was unreal. An American would never do that! I wish I was not occupying the room. I wish a paying tenant was there.

All this talk of recognizing one’s privilege – that is often found throughout the YAV year – has been summed up in two occasions:

1) My college graduation. See picture of myself and my three best friends above. Here is the Facebook status I wrote upon the 1st year anniversary of my college graduation: 1yearsinceGraduation

2) A flashback to my high school opinion’s:

When I was in high school, I used to say to my family and friends, “I love airports! You see all sorts of people in airports! People from all walks of life!”

“Yes, you do,” my present self would reply. “However, you see ‘all sorts of people’ who can afford an airplane ticket of $250 and above. You see ‘all sorts of people’ who can all afford expensive designer or at least luggage that looks presentable. There are not going to be people here who are food-insecure. There are not going to be people here who are homeless. Yet surprisingly, they may be a man who is an orphan because his two parents died in the war.”

I am privileged. I am white. I am from a middle/upper-class family who has access to higher education. Of course I’m going to be walking through the airport….However, millions of people do not even know what the inside of a plane or a lecture hall look like.

I guess there are a few things my professors left out of the syllabus…

Finding Our Belovedness Within Community

Long time, no blog! I’m back and ready to write! This is a “sermonette” that I given on several speaking events that I attend with my fellow Tucson Borderlands YAVs, Grace, Hanbyeol and Allie.

Me, Gaby, Hanbyeol, April, Allie & Grace at the U.S.-Mexico border. We are doing the iconic Korean peace sign that Hanbyeol has taught us to adopt.

Me, Gaby, Hanbyeol, April, Allie & Grace at the U.S.-Mexico border. We are doing the iconic Korean peace sign that Hanbyeol has taught us to adopt. Gaby spent 3 months in the Hen House as she did her last semester at North Texas doing an externship at a local non-profit, Derechos Humanos. April is a Global Fellow Methodist Volunteer who works at another non-profit called Primavera. Myself, Hanbyeol, Allie and Grace are YAVs. 

We are collectively from Texas, Maryland, South Korea, San Francisco, Alabama and Connecticut. On the Myer-Briggs spectrum, our community is a motley crew of an ISFP, ENTJ, and INTJs, the list goes on. Some of us rise at 3am and some of us roll out the door 20 or 30 minutes before we have to arrive at work. We have the minds and qualities of poets, delegators, organizers, teachers, life-coaches, mediators, managers, social workers, architects and economists. Yes, there are only six of us in the house but all my housemates are all extremely multi-faceted.

“The Hen House” – as we dubbed ourselves early on in the year- daily face the topics of immigration, sexism in the work place, refugees and asylum seekers, low-income home repair, homelessness, systemic racism. We have read books about charities that hurt more than help. We have discussed the struggles and joys of working alongside non-profits and how the church can better engage young adults and their lifestyles and relevant concerns and how we can better be proactive in our relationship with the church. We not only deal with these realities in our work environment but also process, discuss and unpack these subjects at home. Sometimes we thrive upon this reflection and other times we are so exhausted that we say , “Okay. Let’s talk about something different or let’s go listen to Beyonce and dance.” Don’t worry, sometimes we try to be normal young adults.

When my cousin asked me a few weeks ago about the “spiritual practices” that we engage in as a community, I was at a loss for words at first. We are not engaging in the typical Bible study and prayer group-type of activities. Of course these are great tools to access the Divine but they are not the only way. As a house, we were tasked to come up with a house covenant to describe our expectations of each other as active agents in our own community. In many ways, I see our collective prayer through the ways in which we lift each other up. For example, we cheer each other on by speaking about body image in a constructive and positive frame of mind. We have encouraged each other to “get physical,” join the YMCA, join a soccer league, hike Tummamoc Hill or Sabino Canyon. When one of us has a challenge at work, we have been there to brainstorm and encourage each other to try from a different angle.

As I have thought about how diverse and rich the “body of Christ” is, I have realized that trying to understand or at least listen to and consider another reality outside of your own experience is a deeply spiritual practice. Trust me, that is the hardest part of community. The thing about living together is that time and time again, you often have to alter your view to make sure that you respect the space of another. I think twice about leaving my laundry on the line because I know my housemate will need it later. This year, clear communication and stepping outside myself and my comfort zone have been my gospel. I fall short of this often but there is a beautiful resurrection in relationship when my housemates and I talk to one another about the ways in which we can once again more wonderfully communicate with each other.

One of the brief yet most pivotal moments of my YAV year happened one afternoon after a long day. I walked into the kitchen, sweaty from my bike ride, still wearing my helmet, my shoulders were slumped and my confidence was low. Upon entering the kitchen, Hanbyeol – our 5th YAV from South Korea who was not able to attend today – asked me, “Emily, how was your day?” I started complaining about my day and how I felt frustrated about being a comment that I did not find helpful, in fact actually hurtful. Hanbyeol reminded me, “Emily this person is not your master, God is your master.” I instantly melted into tears as I was once again reminded of the importance of community and how my housemates have reminded me time and time again of my belovedness.

Hospitality has been a huge part of this year at the Hen House.

Hospitality has been a huge part of this year at the Hen House.

When Philanthropy Isn’t Enough

Talking to my cousin, Lena on the phone today, we shared thoughts on whether service is doing more good for our own personal gain or the communities we are serving…..what are your thoughts?

back to bagels

I started following Humans of New York sometime when I was in college. Initially, the photographer, Brandon Stanton, and his ability to distill such seemingly profound yet universal feelings into just a few sentences and a photograph impressed me. As I continued to follow the Facebook page, I started to realize the formulaic nature of the project and began to feel like maybe all emotions seem profound yet universal when condensed and paired with an evocative picture. Though I will admit that I still have a secret goal of being stopped on the street by Stanton and wonder which part of me would end up on the page, my interest in the page had waned significantly.

One day, however, I noticed this post, which struck a chord with me as I work in an NYC public school. Then, I followed the incredible response. Now, Stanton has raised over $1,000,000…

View original post 548 more words

“Hugs that Change the World”


This is why I love my Presbyterian Church. Coming together and literally and figuratively embracing each other! (Not that we are perfect! We’ve still got a LOT to learn).

During my Young Adult Volunteer year of service, I also have seen the bridges being built, being mended, being crossed. I have also realized that there are bridges that are yet to be built, bridges that may remain broken. Yet there is a beauty in at least trying to build these bridges back. In the wake of is the tragic events of even just the past couple of weeks with Kayla Mueller’s death in Syria and Yusor Mohammad, Razan Mohammad Abu-Salha and Deah Shaddy Barakat’s deaths in North Carolina, I have been alarmed by the ways in which we still desperately need to need to start building bridges. As challenging as this work may be at times, even just acknowledging that a lack of a bridge exists and start figuring how to start building bridges between cultures, ethnicities, religions, backgrounds, upbringings, socioeconomic statuses, etc. is a start!

Chapel Hill

Yusor Mohammad, Razan Mohammad Abu-Salha and Deah Shaddy Barakat who were killed this week at Chapel Hill. Photo courtesy: Aljazeera staff

Kayla Mueller

Picture of Kayla Mueller who was killed this past week. Photo courtesy: Mueller family

We all have our biases but we also all have our brains to get beyond these biases.

As the quote on the Celestial Seasonings tea has taught me, “The river may be wide, but it can be crossed.” (Cote d’Ivoire). (By the way, I have this posted on my door to remind me of the times in which it’s easier just to assume and not step out and communicate).

#yavprogram #haveyouhuggedapresbyteriantoday? #loveyourneighbor #hugs #hugitout

P.S. Rick Ufford-Chase – aka: the dude to the left seen hugging above – was the leader of our 2014-2015 Young Adult Volunteer Orientation back in late August at Stony Point Conference & Retreat Center! Also, he used to live in the house that our current Tucson YAV site coordinator, Brandon lives.

Tonight, after I presented our monthly volunteer training entitled “Refugee 101”, the Executive Director, Barbara at Iskashitaa Refugee Network said to me that no matter of what type of volunteer commitment an individual decides to make with our organization, they can at least step away from this interactive training with more sensitivity towards the refugee and asylum seeking population not only in Tucson but also in the world. Often times, I get caught up in the every day details as a Volunteer Coordinator at Iskashitaa that I forget one of our main missions is to bring education and awareness and sensitivity and understanding about refugees and asylum seekers to the Tucson community. Who is a refugee? What is the difference between refugee and an asylum seeker? What is their journey like? What are the challenges they face? What are the skills and gifts they can bring to their new community?

Often feeling helpless that I cannot do more or that I am not efficient/quick enough to get volunteers connected to one another! Barbara reminded me, “If nothing, the people who have attended ‘Refugee 101’ have become more sensitive to a group of people that they would have mindlessly walked by in the grocery store before.”

At the end of the day, perhaps if we just asked each other -while standing in the check-out line at the grocery store what the Arabic, English, Spanish, Swahili or Kirundi word for tomato was – perhaps we’d gain a little more respect for one another and realize that as weird and foreign and different we all initially seem from one another…..we all have a word for tomato in our language. 🙂


Check out the “Hugs that Change the World” article in Presbyterian Today.

DO JUSTICE, don’t just “love it”

I am so excited for being part of a church that stands for justice in this world. I am so excited to be part of a church who refuses to stand back and let the world just “do its thing” while people are being hurt, emotionally and verbally harassed, murdered, raped, persecuted, put-down and humiliated.

For the most part, I would like to say that the Presbyterian Church (USA) kicks serious butt at social justice.

However, just as any organization or institution has its flaws, so does the PC(USA), my friends. We are not unlike any other denomination because we are human. We put bumper stickers on our car which read: Coexist….Yet we cannot even get along with our neighbor. Things slip through the cracks. Gossip ensues. Communication fails.  We get more relaxed in our attitude towards helping others because the problem or issue is “not as pressing.” We forget to remember the good we once saw in one another. We invest our finances in the ineffective investments. We bully each other. We mistrust each other’s judgment. We stand up for the victim just to suppress his or her voice.

One thing I learned from YAV Orientation (or rather “Disorientation”) is that we often “love justice” more than we “do justice.”


I have been guilty of these above things and we, Church have been guilty of these things. As the church (Presbyterian) and Church (all Christians), we sometimes are the MOST guilty of it as we preach and aim to practice our righteous and wholesome Christian ways. We all have fallen victim to the “easy” option.

Who could blame us really? Justice is really challenging. Justice is raw. Justice is messy. Justice is often choosing the more vulnerable, honest, uncomfortable choice.

But at the end of the day, I would rather stay with the Presbyterian Church in our efforts than to step away from all the good we are trying to do. Obviously, I am biased towards the PC(USA) because I have grown up in this denomination, however, I am still eager and joyous to call this church my home. Just check out some of the justice being done here through this PC(USA) video about the U.S.-Mexico border. 

Micah 6-8

My sister, Ali drew this during one of our phone conversations. We talked about the difference between “loving justice” and actually “doing justice.”

“He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly[a] with your God.”    -Micah 6:8