Reflections on a Walking Journey in America

Lately, I’ve felt the chill in the air while walking across America. I began my trek on a warm, humid September 1st in New York City, but now I’m enjoying the crispness of North Carolina’s countryside. The clear night skies here offer a view of stars, something rare back in my neighborhood in Chicago. I really love this season, mostly because, well, it brings Thanksgiving into focus.

While walking down Drewry-Virginia Line Road, I stumbled upon Buchanan’s Store—North Carolina’s oldest family-operated store, open since 1878. I can’t help but ponder the variety of people who have crossed its threshold, from Confederate veterans to, well, myself.

There were beautiful flowers adorning the store’s entrance, and Thanksgiving decorations were plentiful. The warm kindness of the locals truly stood out to me. I took a moment to rest on the front steps with a drink, and I found myself reflecting on what I truly have to be grateful for this year.

Amidst all the division and noise, there’s still a simple truth: America has heart.

When I returned to my hometown of Chicago, the groundbreaking for a community center I had envisioned for over a decade finally began. I must admit, I was moved to tears multiple times as I watched the machinery dig into the earth, the beams going up, and the cement flowing. It’s been ages since any construction in the area has signified positive change. I’m deeply thankful to everyone—donors and supporters alike—who have believed in this project. A big thank you goes out to those who labor through the heat and cold to make this center a reality.

To all the Americans I’ve met on this journey—whether in cities, back roads, or on church steps—I want to express my heartfelt gratitude. Thank you for the honey bread, the sandwiches, the homemade meals, and the generous donations. You’ve offered me nourishment, a sense of belonging, joined me in prayer, and supported me when I needed it most. Because of your kindness, our children have a brighter future ahead.

Thank you for this beautiful, complex country of ours. It’s far from perfect, but it’s always evolving, allowing us to dream of new possibilities. I’m grateful to live in a place where even flawed individuals like me can contribute positively to our communities. I cherish the belief that just because things are a certain way doesn’t mean they must stay that way. This country embodies the power of change, and I hope we never lose sight of that gift.

As I observe trucks whizzing by on this country road, I’m filled with gratitude for the sacred places I’ve visited recently—churches, historic sites, old slave trails, and battlefields. Each step has reinforced the same lesson: to honor those who came before us and paved the way for our journey today. It’s our turn now to build on what they created and work towards a brighter future.

Yet, as Thanksgiving rolls around, I can’t shake a tinge of sadness. I’ve officiated too many funerals for young lives taken by violence without a chance to thrive. For families, this holiday can be a painful reminder as empty chairs loom at the table. I pray for the souls who have departed and am thankful for the joy they brought during their time with us. They’ve taught us to value life deeply.

Most importantly, I am endlessly grateful to God for guiding me through life. He knew the path even before I took my first step and has appeared in nearly every conversation I’ve had on this trek. No detail went unnoticed by Him.

My journey is far from over. The promise remains, and hope is alive. I want to sincerely thank all of you for your support.