I didn’t know them personally – Glen, Tom, Dan, Thomas, Cheryl, Brian, Karen, Daniela, Mahram, and Ahmed – I’d never had a chance to shake their hands. But as soon as I knew they were “our partners”, it became personal. My grief moved to a new level.

People all around the world die senselessly every day from random and planned violence. But when we know them, they quit being statistics; they become flesh and blood persons. Flesh torn, blood spilled; lives tragically ended.

It became personal for me this week with the murder of 10 Afghanistan aid workers. It turns out these people were our people. Disciples support these ten and others working for International Assistance Mission. We partner with them through Disciples Mission Fund and Global Ministries, and through Week of Compassion. Through our partners at IAM, we are present in Afghanistan. We are offering critical presence, courageous compassion.

The music of the choir – a capella, all male voices, ancient melody, tight harmony – blending in air with the pungency of incense. The walls of the cathedral lush with gold paint and icons. The worshipers standing, heads of women covered, on this Saturday afternoon in Moscow, Russia. My spirit soars with the music.

I’ll never forget another Quadrennial Assembly – 1986, I think – where the speaker asked us to simply stand up if we had ever known a woman who had been physically abused. The eerie whisper of rustling skirts and shifting chairs still haunts me – the sound of nearly every one of those thousands of women quietly rising to her feet.