It’s Sunday here in America.

For many people that means going to church; a place where they can find community and grow in faith and be cared for and feel at home. It’s a sacred pause, a welcomed day of rest for their world-weary souls. It is a place to breathe deeply.

But I know too, that for many people Sunday is just a painful weekly reminder of what they don’t have and where they aren’t welcome and all they walked away from. It’s a recurring day of grieving what they’ve lost or had stolen from them.