Graduation Day
Top row: John Hughes, Bill Davis, and Rich Gregg; Middle row: Melinda Cathey, me, and Jackie Davis; Bottom row: Sue Gregg and Punkin Durio
The Davises gave me an “official” certificate of adoption into their family. It sealed the deal: no matter where the future took me, I would always and forever be considered as part of the Davis family. Rich Gregg gave a toast that day to mark the significance of the event and the moment in my journey. But the most moving part of all that day was the time of prayer we shared. I sat at the dining room table, everyone placed hands on me, and they all took turns praying for me.
For a graduation gift Punkin took me on a ten-day trip to Alaska. She had planned the entire trip and surprised me with it. She spared no expense or experience. We used every mode of transportation imaginable. In addition to the normal planes, trains, and automobiles, we also used a helicopter (to the top of a glacier!), a jeep, all-terrain vehicles, white water rafts, speed glacier boats, and a sea plane. We even went dog sledding (the highlight of my trip). I experienced more fun and adventure in one week than I had in my whole lifetime.
Now it was time to get to work, and I was excited to put my new degree, knowledge, and experience to work, doing the thing that I really loved: bringing God’s love to the orphans of Russia.
The Davis clan celebrating an Ohio State football victory
Chapter 25
Consequently, you are no longer foreigners and aliens, but fellow citizens with God’s people and members of God’s household.
—Ephesians 2:19
My mission was to raise the funds for The Harbor. In order for me to do that, however, I needed to maintain my legal status in the U.S. Even before I graduated I began the process of updating my visa. I was in the United States on a non-immigrant student visa that was good for three years, provided I was a student. Once I knew I would not be able to continue for a four-year degree I began to be concerned about my legal status. I was not prepared to be “shipped back” to Russia.
Patrick Schumer, who was the head of International Student Admissions at Franklin, had become a friend. He was a Christian and was excited about The Harbor and my life story. I went to him for help with my visa situation. He suggested I apply for Optional Professional Training (OPT), explaining to me that every foreign student who receives a degree can stay in the country for an additional year, pursuing their line of study. I applied and was accepted to practice my Business Management degree for one year in the United States. Ninety days before the OPT would expire, I would need to file for a new student visa or some other visa status, or I would have to leave the country.
Six months into my OPT, I filed for a religious worker visa and was approved for one year, with the possibility of an extension of two more years. In order to get that status, I needed Church Resource Ministries to vouch for my work on behalf of The Harbor. For my “religious worker” status to be legal I would also need to draw regular pay. CRM put me on a salary of $1,000 a month. The good news was that for the first time in my life I would have a steady paycheck. The bad news was that I now needed to raise enough funds to support both the ministry and the paycheck I was required to receive. The Harbor bank account was just about depleted by this time because I had not been able to fundraise for more than two years, so I had my work cut out for me.
While I was on my student visa, I was able to travel to and from the United States and I did so. The two summers I was in school I traveled back to Russia for a few months to help out with The Harbor in St. Pete. But once I received my OPT, and likewise the religious worker visa, if I left the U.S. I would not be able to return without applying for a whole new visa in Russia (and that was not likely to be approved).
The more I researched and the deeper I got into the world of visa applications and bureaucratic processes, the more I knew I needed help. John Hughes recommended an immigration attorney. Gloria was a real godsend. It took years but finally, in 2008, I was approved for a coveted United States “green card.” That was the culmination of the prayers of many people in both of “my” countries.
I was thrilled when, after I got my green card, I was finally able to get my driver’s license. Bill and Jackie taught me to drive and I passed the test. Now I not only had a college diploma, but an Ohio driver’s license as well. I was worse than any sixteen-year-old, proudly showing off my driver’s license to everyone I came in contact with. Bekah Davis sold me her 1999 Acura and I was able to pay her the entire amount with money I had saved up for the purpose.
A green card is good for ten years. As long as I pay the fee and renew it every decade, my legal status in the United States remains intact. I have all the rights of an American citizen, with the exception that I cannot vote, nor can I hold certain government positions. My ultimate goal is to be an American citizen. I would thus have dual citizenship, which seems fitting since I now spend nearly half my time in Russia and my purpose and passion are there, even while my life and love of country and any family I have ever known remain scattered throughout these United States.
Chapter 26
But in your hearts set apart Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect.
—1 Peter 3:15
Because of my immigration status, I was not able to return to Russia for almost five years. In December 2008 I went back for four months. My old orphanage mates Sveta, Maria, and Ed met me at Melana’s apartment for a wonderful reunion. Melana, who was now working as a nanny, said that her employer had an apartment for rent. It was some distance from the city, out on the Bay of Finland. It was only a small efficiency apartment, with a sofa that pulled out to a bed, but it was spotless and in a very nice area. I signed the lease. As with all Russian real estate, it was pricey. I would be paying $800 a month for rent, plus the cost of utilities.
Fortunately, during the process of upgrading my visa, I was required to also upgrade my salary to a minimum of $2,000 a month. I didn’t have many needs, and I was more concerned with the needs of The Harbor, so I determined at that point that all of my expenses for the ministry would be taken from my salary, rather than other ministry funds. That would include all travel that I do for The Harbor throughout the U.S. and to and from Russia. It’s a practice I continue to this day, and the Lord has honored it. I have never found myself lacking anything I need.
While I was willing to splurge on the luxury of my own efficiency apartment, I was very frugal when it came to food. In Russia I ate mostly bread, potatoes, and pasta; not necessarily the healthiest diet, but the least expensive.
When I saw our director, Luba, the first day, she said, “I’ll give you one day to rest up and recuperate from your travels, but first thing the next morning, I need you to go to work.”
While I was still in America and unable to get to Russia, the work of The Harbor continued. The Lord had worked lots of miracles and our vision for a vocational training center had gotten off the ground. Luba and her team had even gotten the government to approve it for orphans still in the orphanages to attend, in addition to the Harbor kids and street children. They offered an array of classes that changed each quarter, depending upon the availability of instructors. Part of my job while in Russia was to teach some courses at the training center. That particular summer I taught computer and English courses.
I also used my time to disciple and mentor orphans, including current and former residents of The Harbor and kids still living in the orphanages. It was a time for me to reconnect with friends, network with churches and government officials, and recruit new volunteers and staff. I was also charged with finding a bigger facility for our vocational training center. Any free time I had, I visited orphanages.
Orphanage Number 18 is for “academically and/or mentally challenged” orphans. Anywhere from fourteen to twenty-five kids from Number 18, ages fifteen to eighteen years old, come to The Harbor’s vocational training ce
nter one day a week. The kids get to pick what classes they want to take and they love the opportunity. On my first day at the vocational center, one little guy, Sasha, opened up to me and shared his entire life story. Luba was amazed, as Sasha had been attending for weeks and had never opened up like that. I didn’t want to limit my time with these kids to just the one day a week they were at the center, so I added Orphanage 18 to my list and visited as often as possible.
The first time I arrived there, the boys were so excited to see me. They took me to their rooms and carefully showed me all of their few, but very special, personal possessions. One of the boys wanted to demonstrate to me how well he cleaned the bathroom. After watching the full bathroom cleaning demonstration, I treated the boys to cake and cookies.
Some of the boys from Orphanage Number 3, to whom I taught English on that trip to Russia, have since graduated from the orphanage system. I continued to keep up with them via email and online video chats and I was able to continue mentoring and befriending them.
My visits to the orphanages gave me a chance to build relationships with the boys and also with the caregivers, which was helpful in building credibility for The Harbor.
Sometime before my trip, I had been contacted by David Ford, an American missionary in Kaluga, a city of about four hundred thousand just south of Moscow. David worked a lot with orphans and had learned about the work of The Harbor up in St. Petersburg. He was very interested in starting a similar work in Kaluga. When he heard that I was going to be back in Russia, he called The Harbor to see if I would be willing to come down and meet with him.
I made the eight-hour train trip to Kaluga and spoke at David’s church about my life and the Harbor ministry. This was a small church of only about thirty people, meeting in a rented room above a store, but, despite its size and outward appearance, it was the most vibrant church I had ever seen in Russia. Pastor Dima’s wife had died at the age of thirty-five, leaving him to raise their two young children himself. I was impressed with what a wonderful job he was doing with the church and with his children. David was the only foreigner in the church; the rest of the congregation were all Russian Christians.
After I spoke, one woman, whose kids were grown, stood up to say, “I want to be the first ‘mother’ in our Harbor that we start down here!”
I met a young man, Sergei, who was a former drug addict who had spent time in prison. It was in prison that he had found the Lord, and felt called by God, once he was released, to form a ministry and rehab center for drug addicts. To my amazement, that ministry was fully supported by this small body of believers.
The church asked me to stay and speak to a special meeting of their youth the next evening. There were about thirty young people, along with most of the adults who had heard me the day before. Of the thirty young people in attendance, about half of them were orphans who attended this church. I shared for a couple of hours and allowed time for questions and answers. The youth were attentive, almost captivated, and very engaged in the discussion time.
At the end of the their time, Sergei stood and said, “I need to pray for you.” It was a sweet time of prayer, and Sergei prayed specifically that God would anoint me and the church so they could start a Harbor in their city.
After the service, a visitor, who, like the pastor, was named Dima, approached me and introduced himself. He said that he was a consultant for non-profits and would like to help with the local government officials in our effort to get the program going in Kaluga. In one of those great coincidences that only the Lord could orchestrate, he just happened to be visiting this tiny church that evening. He invited Pastor Dima and me to go the next day with him to meet with the Minister of Social Welfare for the entire Kaluga region.
We met the next morning at a beautiful government office building known as “the white house.” The minister listened to my brief life story and as I described the work of The Harbor. He then looked at me and said, “So, what can I do for you?” I asked only for his support to start a program in Kaluga.
“I cannot help you because it is a Christian ministry and that is out of my jurisdiction,” he said.
Just as I was prepared to thank him for his time and depart, he picked up the phone and set up an appointment for us to immediately meet with the Minister of Education and Science, the appropriate government official. To receive an appointment like that, and so quickly, is unheard of in Russia, a country well-known for its bureaucratic minefields.
Moments later, the two Dimas and I had an audience with Antoinina. She was very formal and all business. She begrudgingly listened to our talk of The Harbor. Suddenly, I felt like the Lord wanted me to talk a little about my life and my background, so I gave the thirty-second version.
Her demeanor instantly changed.
“Tell me more,” she said.
After I obliged, she asked the same question that the government official in St. Petersburg had asked: “What about all the other orphans?” In the next moments I felt like I was given words that were not my own. I gave an impassioned response about how we could not help all the orphans, but that I had seen the value of helping one orphan at a time, setting them up as role models. I talked about the number of Harbor graduates who were already ministering to orphans in the orphanages and many who had come back to volunteer at The Harbor. Frankly, I was surprised at the picture I was able to paint and the passion with which I was able to convey our vision; it could only have come from the Lord.
Antoinina immediately stood up and shook my hand. She said, “I support your mission.” She then pointed to Pastor Dima and said, “Who are you?”
She was unimpressed that he was a pastor when she learned that his church was not Orthodox. She was, however, quite impressed with his answer to her next question, “Who will run this ministry?” The pastor unhesitatingly replied, “My church.”
At that point, Antoinina softened and opened up to us as friends. She told us that she had started her own non-profit in 2003 to help emancipated orphans. “I have never, until now, met anyone else who shares my passion.” Even more astounding, she then stated, “I’d like to give you my non-profit; turn over my organization to you to run.”
What took The Harbor three years to accomplish in St. Petersburg took thirty minutes in Kaluga. I thought back to Sergei’s prayer at the service the night before. God had certainly delivered what he asked for and anointed our efforts that morning.
At this writing, the work in Kaluga has a long way to go, but the experience of that morning gave me a good occasion to reflect. A mere decade before, I was a “nobody,” a number, and one of hundreds of thousands of nobodies who were a blight on Russian society. I had no family, no direction, no purpose, and no hope. Now here I was, in the offices of two rather lofty, regional government officials, sharing my story, touching their hearts, and, rather ironically, providing them with the solution to their “blight.” Even better than that, though, I had a purpose, direction, hope, and “family” who loved me unconditionally, all thanks to a loving God who reached out and found me. For my part, all I contributed was a willingness to serve Him in faith. Ephesians 3:20 was certainly true in my life: “Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think.”
Chapter 27
Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord.
—Romans 12:11
Back stateside, I continued to fundraise for The Harbor and also help couples with their adoption efforts. I’ll use a couple in Columbus as an example of an adoptive family that I have been honored to help.
During the many months the difficult legal process takes, I continued to encourage this couple on, even when they were tempted to give up. Sometimes it helps just to have someone around who has “been there.” When they finally took physical custody of the eight-year-old, they had to remain in Russia for a week. I was in Columbus, but we managed to speak frequently during that time. The co
mbination of the language barrier (the child spoke no English and they spoke little Russian) and other complications made that week extremely difficult. By the time I greeted them at the Columbus airport things had only gotten worse. One parent was extremely overwhelmed with the relentless stresses added. I should add that this is not uncommon in adoption situations, particularly when the child is not an infant.
Over the next few months I spent lots of time with the family and occasionally I would take their child for a time and let him stay with us at the Davises for an evening or overnight to give the parents a break.
Infinitely More Page 15