What do I know of this?

Hast thou no scar?
No hidden scar on foot, or side or hand?
I hear Thee sung as mighty in the land,
I hear them hail Thy bright ascendant star
Hast thou no scar?

Hast thou no wound?
Yet I was wounded byt the archers, spent,
Leaned me against a tree to die; and rent
By ravening beasts that encompassed me, I swooned;
Hast thou no wound?

No wound? No Scar?
Yet, as the master shall the servant be
and pierced are the feet that follow me;
But think are whole: can he have followed far
Who has not wound or scar?

-Amy Charmichael

A consistant ethic on human dignity...

Taken from Chi Huang's "When Invisible Children Sing"

On pondering what happens to street children

What happens to street children when they grow up? Obviously some of them do not grow up. Some die on the street, their spirits going, we hope, to a better place. Some of them survive. Which is better, dying or living? An argument can be made for either side. Little is known about what happen when street children grow up. Researchers do not follow individual street children over the years of their lives. Researchers take collective "snapshots" of the population of street children. They interview them about their past sometimes. They watch them over a period of a few days, a few months even. But the world really does not want to know how many of them are killed by the elements, by disease, by other street people, by adult perpetrators; how many commit suicide; how many become street adults; how few survive and find a home and a sustainable role in the world.

In reference to a girl met on the streets in Bolivia

You expect to be treated like garbage so you're never disappointed. You cauterize your heart. No one can hurt a dead girl. And yet who am I to tell you that you are alive? What good will it do if you believe you're a human being and one else does? Can you survive on the streets if you insist on being treated with dignity? Can a street child afford self-worth? All God's children are created equal. But who really lives as if they believe this? One first world baby stuck at the bottom of a well generates more heartfelt anxiety than the 100 million children trapped on the streets of the developing world ever will.

Aren't We Beautiful?

Aren’t we courageous to deny what is before our eyes?

Aren’t we proud as we watch our loved one march off to “defend”?

Aren’t we winsome to laugh at the blindness?

Aren’t we superior to put them against a wall?

Aren’t we fragrant as we hear the screams?

Aren’t we loving to teach and admonish in our way?

Aren’t we humane to realize separation?

Aren’t we wise when we have attained the truth of “moral equivalency”?

Aren’t we progressive when we deny barbarity?

Aren’t we powerful to choose what is right?

Aren’t we charming to mock what isn’t us?

Aren’t we necessary when those around can’t…?

Aren’t we comfortable when we have our embrace?

Aren’t we right when we have broken every mirror?

Aren’t we God when we deny them humanity?

Aren’t they as animals?

Aren’t we beautiful?

IJM's VP of Justice Operations' Sharon Cohn Wu at Urbana 06

Please watch it here, it's amazing!

(click on Testimony: International Justice Mission):
http://www.urbana.org/archives/2006/session-info?session=5

July 4th in Washington D.C.

It's going to be crazy....

The day the Lord has made.

July 3^rd, 2009

Washington, District of Columbia—Today was a fantastic day. It’s almost a life-in-a-day for my time here in the District, which has been rife with laughter, walking, people, learning, and spectacle. I love this city.

Laura, my housemate, woke me up this morning to ask if I still planned to go biking down on the mall with her uncle Angus and two sisters, Julie and Betsy. “Heck yes!” I responded in a half-asleep stupor. I don’t get to sleep in much. You understand. I eventually was able to jump on Ben’s, Laura’s husband’s, bike and fly down to the mall. This was my first time riding a bike in the District. It was one of the best experiences of my being here. The weather was pristine, a few clouds, perfect humidity, wind rushing through my hair, avoiding wayward drivers. Only so close to death does one touch life.

I made it down to the Washington monument in record time (for me) and found Laura and Julie and then Uncle Angus and Betsy, who had ridden down earlier. We stood in the shadow of America’s own pire to its greatest leader. Flags fluttered and the flurry of humanity was all around us as the nation’s capital prepared for the insanity that is July 4^th weekend. Uncle Angus, Betsty, and I ended up riding up and down the Potomac on what has been the most beautiful day I’ve seen since being here. I was, for one of the first times, reminded, as I crossed over the Potomac, “This is the day that the Lord has made”. I remembered and thanked Him genuinely and deeply for the oxygen in my lungs and the privilege of being in this city serving at International Justice Mission. We stopped underneath the flight path of National Airport watching Airbuses and Boeings roar over us nice and low. We soon left to preserve our hearing, back on the narrow path being passed by those more serious at biking than us. It was awesome to just ride slow through the lush grass and willow trees that line the Potomac. I couldn’t help but marvel at what a great job the designer of D.C., L’Enfant, did. The city is truly stunning at many angles and has a peculiar feel to it. It almost never ceases to surprise.

The ride back to the Lincoln Memorial, where we were meeting up was made even better by the President’s helicopters (CH-53 variants) flying fast and low over the memorial bridge. This was continual all morning, and added a powerful backdrop to the serene beauty of the green space of the District. I remember riding in those quite often over the mountains of California, once taking off from the USS Tarawa to do an “embassy reinforcement” exercise in Orange County, California. I wonder if President Obama gets the same thrill as Marine One lifts off the White House lawn taking him to Andrews Air Force Base to board Air Force One headed to wherever he goes. It has to be exciting and empowering. I wonder if anything ever humbles those displays of power. I hope so.

We then met up with Julie and Laura, and after multiple failed attempts to carry them on the back of our road bikes (kids, don’t try this at home), we “settled down” near the Jefferson Memorial for a lunch of cold burritos and power bars. The funny jokes, quotes, stories, and handstand competitions quickly ensued. Above the fray, I merely photographed. Not really. No matter, from there Betsy and I rode to the National Gallery of Art, meeting Julie and Laura there. The NGA was simply fantastic. I sometimes forget there is art that’s 600 years old and that I can get 1 ft away from it. I saw a Salvador Dali painting. A real Dali. Dali once said “The only difference between me and a madman is that I’m not mad.” which is one of my favorite quotes He’s awesome. There was some really amazing installation art including a piece titled “Light Emitting Diodes, Mac Mini, and Aluminum Slats”. Mac, represent. After that amazing experience, Betsy and I rode back home where I learned why it is called Columbia “Heights”. You just don’t get the same speed going uphill. Betsy is a fantastic tour guide though and she explained some different parts of the dynamic city in which we live. Once home I made spaghetti with vodka sauce, we talked about patriarchy and global women’s issues (great lunch conversation). Then I took a nap. Now, I’m writing this…

All in all the day has been extremely satisfying (Laura, you knew it was coming ;-), much like this whole time in D.C. has been. I’m learning, slowly, to balance movement and repose. Ryan understands. I’m learning to take time for people again. I’ve lost that. I’m learning I have plenty to learn and plenty to be humble about. I’m learning what I’m good at and what I’m terrible at. I’m learning, again, how wonderful my family and friends are and how blessed I am to have them. I love people.

Since being here I’ve had more amazing experiences than I know what to do with. I’ve had an amazing burger at Five Guys and Tonic, I’ve walked to the Pentagon, I’ve met Gary Haugen, I’ve had a BBQ in the hills of Maryland, I’ve sent my resume to the State Dept, I’ve stayed a couple of nights at Keeferton Cabin, staying up late to talk of godly and manly things, eating meat for multiple days. I’ve seen lightning storms wreck the sky from the wraparound porch of our 1870’s home in Mt. Pleasant. I’ve met the #2 guy at Amnesty International, heard a book reading by Chimamanda Adichie of her book “The Thing Around Your Neck”, I’ve hit up the night scene on U Street with the other interns, I’ve had beautiful conversations with my boys here: Jonathan, Grant, and Brent (intern at the State Dept). I’ve walked late at night through Foggy Bottom listening to VNV Nation, I’ve seen deer at Rock Creek National Park in the city, I’ve met my friend and former professor Albert Celoza, attending church at Christ our Shepard, hearing one of the best sermons I’ve ever heard. I’ve been to Falls Church for an IJM prayer retreat where I learned much about joy, God, and the wonderful organization I work at, I’ve been thinking about what my next tattoo will be since I have to get one in D.C., I’ve talked with men much wiser than I about the mystery and wonder of God, I’ve been able to meet a houseless man who is truly an amazing soul, I’ve found out that an old friend lives like a block away. I’ve stood in silence at the necessary soul devastation that is Holocaust Museum. I’ve talked with Ben about the most random things, I’ve seen old battlefields where the North fought the South, I’ve waited for far too long for a Metro, I’ve stood without falling as the train car barrels down the tunnel just a bit shorter amount of time than Brent. I’ve talked with old diplomats and spies and those the CIA is actively trying to recruit who have seen the world through different eyes come to where it is now, I’ve walked around the city at night, sitting with Jonathan in front of the White House just taking it all in. I’ve stayed up late watching hilarious videos with my housemates of our computers quoting things that, in retrospect, are completely inappropriate. I’ve seen the Secret Service protecting an upscale café on Pennsylvania Avenue. I’ve traveled back to Phoenix, gotten sick, seen some close friends, and attended a wonderful wedding. I’ve even met, super-randomly, the girl who I replaced as Human Rights intern at IJM. I’ve had more coincidences here than I care to share. I’ve talked about Africa, and love, and loss. I’ve cooked and been cooked for. I’ve been in prayers where I hear of dozens of people being freed from slavery. I’ve met dozens of people who have done extraordinary things for the Lord at every corner of this earth, from Kazakhstan to Argentina to Congo. I’ve been riveted to the Iranian election crisis, and been able to talk to some wise people about it, I’ve been able to talk to people in India and Zambia. I’ve heard of miracles as people have returned from Africa. I’ve memorized mewithoutYou lyrics and found a fellow fan at IJM (super exciting!), I’ve eaten Filet Minon that cost way too much, I’ve hung out quite a bit with my housemates, I’ve enjoyed an Anglican church, I’ve pretended I’m a local when on the Metro, I’ve done a million things at IJM that I’ll simply have to talk about at a later time. I’m making plans to go to NY and Boston. I’ve done a lot.

More than anything I’ve been loved. Thank you God for the blessing of living here and getting to do all that I’ve done and getting a break from the desert, which I also love. I wish I would have been able to keep a better journal going on here, but it’s been busy as you’ve seen. I’ll get more on here about my work at IJM later J

I love you all,

~Dan~

Also, notable albums that have come out recently you should definitely consider picking up:

--mewithoutYou, “It’s all Crazy! It’s all False! It’s all a Dream! It’s Alright.”

--VNV Nation, “Of Faith, Power, and Glory”

--Emery, “…In Shallow Seas We Sail”