“This is my home,” I say, along with the words in our hymnal: “The country where my heart is.” How can I not love it? How can I not feel patriotic when I look at what it has offered me? And yet, what do I do with the recognition that what has been offered me is not available to everyone. That “liberty and justice for all” is not a reality, no matter how many times we say the words. How do I use what privilege I have to make that a reality, and how much am I willing to challenge my own comfort in the process?