"Will work for someone else's freedom"

Two weeks ago I attended the Global Human Trafficking Conference in Los Angeles as a volunteer for the International Justice Mission. Here are some of my favorite quotes.


"In a time, a place, a city where we celebrate celebrity and elevate the relatively insignificant, I am glad to be here with you." 
~ Russ Bermejo, IJM Fellow and former Clinical Director of My Refuge House

Growing up reading stories of pre-Civil War slavery in America, Patrick wondered "...how could you do nothing? And when I first heard about [modern day slavery] I realized how easy it is to do nothing."
~Patrick McCalla, Former CEO of Streetlight USA


After serving for many years in Washington D.C. as a lobbyist for human rights issues, Holly heard about the darkest human atrocities every day.
"...but [human trafficking] was the issue that cracked my heart, and I said 'That's it, I'm not having this, and I'd better go work for IJM at some point.' And I did, about three years later." ~ Holly Burkhalter, Vice President for Government Relations at IJM


"Human trafficking is not a labor issue, it is a human rights issue. ... Take whatever talent you have and stand in the gap." ~ Mary Heller, Chief of Police in Denver Metropolitan Area and former IJM Chief of Investigations in Chennai, India for three years


"[While in slavery] I couldn't believe there were people like all of you here to help me." ~ Sex trafficking survivor


Want to do something? Get involved with International Justice Mission, start buying fair trade, contact your government representatives, and pray!

Staff  and volunteer of My Refuge House--check out their blog post here!

Gold Medal Ballet

What could be better than the Olympic gymnastics? Here you go...



(Email recipients click here.)

O_o just when you think you are even slightly good at something, there will always be an Asian that is better...ALWAYS...

ptboy18 1 month ago 78 

Although I am partial to Swan Lake, here is a similar performance with a better video quality. 

Peter

Peter is a confident worker: determined trundler of miniature metal chairs over concrete, deft handler of stray crayons and squashed stickers, clever collector of school supplies and small toys carefully stowed in personal containers. He visibly analyzes his tasks then gets to work with a focus that tolerates interruptions but remains largely uninterested. Sometimes when you're working alongside him, he looks up at you with an unencumbered smile curving up the left side of his face as if to say, "We've got this, haven't we?" He would rather work on something he understands than learn something new, and his open attempts at patience are amusing to watch--the patronizing wince of a sixty-year old in an elementary-age boy. Perhaps it was this combination of innocence and assurance that drew me to him particularly. 

Peter lives in the Home for Special Children, Inc. in the Delmas neighborhood of Port au Prince, Haiti. Abandoned by his birth family because of his Down Syndrome, Peter shares his modest home with about thirty other children who have a wide range of physical and developmental disabilities. Madame Marie, the steadfast founder of the orphanage, provides the children with food, clothing, shelter, and care in partnership with Connect 2 Ministries. Almost every child is hand-fed, changed, and bathed by the staff. Education and therapy are rudimentary due to lack of funds and training. The challenges are many, and outside encouragement is insufficient. Yet, the beauty of the children shines steadily through the heat, noise, and confusion.

By most standards, Peter is not a shining, superlative child. He is not the cutest, smartest, lithest, brightest child in even the small population of the orphanage. He doesn't have the biggest eyes or grin or the most endearing mannerisms. He doesn't even have the most challenging disability. However, Peter has an incredible gift craved by most of the world: contentment. He knows his strengths and desires, and he is good at being Peter. There is no manipulation in either his smiles or his frustrated slaps. There are good days, and there are bad days, and Peter takes life as it comes.

Peter's calm independence in the midst of great need and significant communication barriers is not unheard of in children with Down Syndrome but is no less wondrous considering the condition of the average human. Sure, he gets frustrated when the staff remembers that he is a kleptomaniac and confiscates his latest stash. Sometimes he is hungry and sick. Often he pulls a chair up to the white metal gate of the orphanage enclosure and stares curiously at the unattainable bustle of the street. As you can imagine, his circumstances are less than ideal, but he does not comprehend this. 

With my daily experience of wealth, I wish I could give Peter a private tutor, fresh clothes, salmon and arugula, Disney musicals, and--most of all--a family. I want to expand the limitations of his disability as well as the limitations of his country and culture. I want every good thing for him, and I pray that others come along who will teach, provide, and love in ever increasing doses. Yet as I trudged away after  five days of visiting the orphanage, I could not grieve for Peter. The boundaries of his experience are tight, but God has smiled on him. Peter then turned that sideways smile on me, and I know I'll have a uniquely dear friend in Heaven.

Peter and Me

As Time Goes By

Am thinking about the spectrum of life today. Saturday morning I awoke to the thumping noises of my friends' nine-month old surrendering to gravity's superior morning strength. His head and chest would lift eight inches off the crib mattress and then flop immediately downward like a beaching seal. After an hour of sympathizing with the reluctant riser, the remainder of the day was spent in the company of my peers, several of whom live with physical disabilities. Sunday brought our church service at the convalescent home, marked with a room visit to one of my favorite residents who is suffering through chemotherapy treatments at age ninety-five. Sometimes I am overwhelmed by the paradox of human experience: so much variety within one story line. 

As a father shows compassion to his children,

    so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him.

For he knows our frame;

    he remembers that we are dust.

Psalm 103:13-14