Infinitely More

by Krutov, Alex; Davis, Jackie

  It wasn’t long after my Estonian experience that I showed up at the Catheys’ doorstep, ringing their doorbell and hoping they would remember me. I love the way that Melinda tells the story. In the years since, I have heard her tell it many times.

  I can still remember that first time Alex came to our door. It was November and freezing cold and there he was in just a white t-shirt. He must have pegged us as “rich Americans.” He was offering his service as a “personal chef.” With a house strewn with toddlers’ toys and screaming kids, I don’t know if I said it, or just thought it, but a personal chef was the last thing I needed!

  But just as I turned him away with a “Thanks, but no thanks,” to his offer, I was immediately hit with a Bible verse. It had been a long time since I heard or read this verse, yet it came to mind, word for word: “This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers. If anyone has material possessions and sees his brother in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of God be in him? Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth.” (1 John 3:16–18)

  It literally scared me when that verse came to mind. Not only was it clearly from the Lord, but because I had no means or need for a personal chef, I had just turned away a lonely, hungry orphan who didn’t even have a coat. The Lord would not release that verse from my heart or Alex from my thoughts. I knew I must make contact with this young man.

  That encounter with Alex, and then the Lord speaking to me through that encounter, was life changing.

  Hers was not the only life that changed as a result of that cold November encounter, nor was mine. It would set into motion events that finally revealed to me God’s calling on my life, and as a result of that calling, bring into being a ministry that God continues to use to bless the lives of Russian orphans.

  A few days after I showed up at their door the Catheys invited me over for a meal, to get to know me. They began to introduce me to their Church Resource Ministries friends and show me their exciting work. We hit it off. In many ways, the Catheys “adopted” me like a brother, even including me in their family Christmas celebration. They had a nice washer and dryer and allowed me to come and do my laundry at their home. When my passport expired they gave me the money to renew it. They fed me well and frequently and even gave me chicken and beef as a Christmas gift. I was welcomed into their home and felt very much a part of their family. When they left for vacations, they would ask me to stay at their apartment which, given my own communal living situation, was like a wonderful vacation for me.

  As she got to know me and more of my life story, it stirred something in Melinda’s heart of compassion that led her, a busy missionary and mother of three, to want to accompany me to the orphanages to see what she could do to help. I certainly did not expect this of her, considering all of her other obligations and duties. It was just something that the Lord put on her heart.

  Since they had lived in Russia for eight years, the Catheys had a car. That made visiting the orphanages much easier. Soon after that first dinner, Melinda began traveling to orphanages with me once or twice a week. Together, we started working with about fifteen different orphanages. This was in addition to another twelve or so that my work with Buckner International, my friends Sherry Oxendine and Lena Engel, and my summer camp work put me in touch with.

  The more we visited the orphanages, the more Melinda became aware of the inadequacies of the Russian orphanage system. She got an in-depth picture of how poorly the system prepared these kids for their emancipation at age seventeen or eighteen.

  Often when we left an orphanage, Melinda and I would sit in the car and cry and pray. She saw firsthand that the government system was designed to meet the basic physical needs of food, clothing, and shelter, but the children lacked any personal care, affection, guidance, or preparation for the future. It was through our talks and prayer sessions in the car that our ministry was birthed.

  Like me, Melinda saw that since the fall of communism, missionary dollars were flowing into the orphanages, yet it did not change the outlook for the orphans’ futures to have nicer bathrooms or hot water. There was still no real investment in their morality, their spirituality, their identity, value, dignity, or purpose. We watched, over time, as orphans left the system, hopeless. In fact, the Russian society honestly believed it would be better for everyone if they just died.

  After one of our trips, Melinda and I were sitting in the car, praying. She began to get angry with God and cried out, “Where are You, Lord? Why don’t You do something?” Just as clearly as she had heard the passage from First John when I showed up at her doorstep, she immediately heard a quiet voice say, “Why don’t you do something?” It changed her perspective from one of anger and frustration to one of determination.

  “Alex,” she said, “this just can’t go on! We aren’t making a dent in their lives! What can we do?” she asked.

  I suggested a program for the graduates. Then the brainstorming began. “What does that look like?” she wanted to know.

  I answered from my heart and my experience: what I had, what I didn’t have, and what I needed. I thought back on what had helped me the most and what had made a difference in my life. The most significant of those things were my faith, the exposure I had received to Americans, to other Christians, and more importantly, to people who cared.

  I remember telling her, “Too many missionaries believe you just bring the gospel and lead people to the Lord and then they’ll be fine. Yet, that is just the starting point. You need to deal with the emotional baggage of these orphans, working through attitude and emotional changes, forgiveness, and validating these kids as individuals.”

  The key to all of this in my own life had been accepting Christ as my Savior. But, “If you want to break the cycle of hopelessness, crime, prostitution, and drug abuse,” I told her, “these kids need someone to journey with them and love them as they set off on their new journey.”

  We carried on this conversation over the course of an entire year. Melinda was very thoughtful in her questions, and I brought the perspective of having walked in the shoes of the people we wanted to help. “What do they really need to prepare them for life outside the orphanage?” she would ask. It was through these tears and talks, and probings and prayers, that our vision for a program for graduated orphans was birthed.

  Together, we identified the crucial aspects of our program that would help them become productive members of society. Without a doubt it would need to be a hands-on, family-based, residential program.

  We decided to share our idea with a few of the orphanage directors we had worked with to gauge their response. By then, Melinda had seen what I had long observed: Russians do not exhibit compassion. They have no tolerance for listening to someone’s troubles because everyone has troubles. Also, none of the directors we surveyed knew that I was a Russian orphan. Lastly, most orphanage workers were there simply for the pay. They had no heart for orphans and no interest in investing in their lives. We were pleasantly surprised, then, that many of the directors were verbally supportive of our vision, at least initially.

  Yet, at some level they all questioned, “Why would you do this? What’s in it for you? Why go to all this trouble, when these orphans are destined to die on the streets?”

  This was nothing new to me, but it was an eye-opener for Melinda. When she realized just how careless the society was with its orphans it made her even more driven to see our vision through to reality.

  Orphanage Number 46 was one of the largest homes in the system and it was the only one we found that shared any of our passion for emancipated orphans. Lubov, the director, actually fought for the rights of orphans. Orphanage 46 consisted of three buildings, only two of which were used for the orphans’ residence and school. The third building had been turned into a vocational school and a small housing section for emancipated orphans. We were thrilled with this discovery and eagerly att
empted to team up with Lubov because of her passion and persistence.

  When we shared our vision with her, she introduced us to her assistants and even let us interview some of the emancipated orphans and some of her soon-to-be-emancipated orphans to better understand their needs.

  After a promising start, our cooperative efforts hit a brick wall when Lubov learned that our vision was just that: a vision. We were not an accredited program with the Russian government.

  “Then I can’t give you any of my children,” she snapped. Our discussions ended.

  It is important to remember that even though orphans in Russia graduate from the orphanages at age seventeen or eighteen, they are still wards of the State until age twenty-three. The orphanage director is technically the legal guardian for all the emancipated orphans from her orphanage until that time.

  The more Melinda was exposed to the system, the more determined she became—and the more frustrated. There is a vast difference between what’s in “the book” and what happens in real life. In the Family Code of the Russian Constitution there is a whole section on “The Rights of Orphans,” including the rights of emancipated orphans. It is this section of the Constitution that we orphans refer to as “the book.”

  According to “the book,” emancipated orphans have the right to higher education, paid for by the State. In reality, however, the vast majority of orphans are never accepted, primarily because they are not academically prepared.

  There are two hundred thousand orphans in Russia in the state orphanage system. Ninety percent of them are “social orphans” and once emancipated are required to go back to live with their relative or family, back to the same situation they were once taken away from, mostly to one-room communal flats. Rather than live with an abusive, alcoholic, or incompetent relative, most of them choose to stay with their fellow orphans, sometimes six or seven to a room. They basically join the ranks of street children, except they sometimes have a room in which to sleep.

  The ten percent of orphans who are “true orphans” are, by “the book,” supposed to be given a room in a communal apartment, yet there are far more orphans waiting in line for an apartment than there are apartments. To buy some time, the government will send true orphans to a trade school with a dormitory until a room opens in one of the communal flats. Yet, the government decides which trade school, and the dormitory living conditions are far bleaker than the orphanages from which they came.

  Melinda saw for herself the run-down Soviet-era dorms, complete with their missing windows, leaking roofs, lack of hot water, and broken beds. She talked with orphans and most were thinking, “What’s the point in going to trade school when society won’t hire orphans, anyway?”

  For the few who do attend trade school, the government pays them a monthly stipend of about $75; but orphans who have never had money don’t understand the value of it and have no experience managing it. It is not uncommon for an orphan to spend $100 on a pair of Levi’s or to spend their whole monthly allotment on drugs or alcohol or cigarettes and then have nothing left to live on for the rest of the month.

  In addition to the financial woes, Melinda was seeing that the concept of education and learning escapes these orphans. They are generally two grade levels below their peers at these trade schools. If an orphan in elementary school doesn’t understand the lessons there is no one “at home” to help them. Most of them give up.

  For all these reasons, along with the emotional issues of hopelessness, isolation, and depression, the vast majority of emancipated orphans begin to make poor choices, choosing the streets as their “home” and selling drugs and their bodies, or stealing, to survive. At least ten percent of them end up committing suicide.

  Almost fifteen thousand orphans are emancipated annually in Russia. Within the first five years, ninety percent of them end up in the world of crime, homelessness, and drugs. Those are bleak statistics, disturbing to most who hear them. To me, and increasingly to Melinda, these were not statistics. These were my friends. They were names and faces. We were not disturbed, we were frantic. We were frantic to end the cycle, to somehow make a difference.

  Chapter 19

  So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

  —Isaiah 41:10

  Melinda Cathey and I had no idea how to go about getting licensed in Russia, nor did we have any idea where we would get the money to support our efforts. Yet we believed strongly that our vision was from the Lord and that He would guide our steps.

  As we prayed and thought through the ideal ministry to emancipated orphans, we determined:

  • The program must be a residential program.

  • It has to be a family environment.

  • It must address emotional needs, not just the physical needs. We had to address the participants’ dignity, self-worth, purpose, motivation, and direction.

  • The orphan’s spirituality was key. We both knew that I would not be where I was without my faith in Jesus. Faith in other people or the government had always failed me. It had only been as I grew in my faith in God that I was able to begin to hope and change. We knew we needed to not only share the good news of salvation with the participants but also help them grow in their faith.

  • The program must address basic life skills. In the orphanages everything is done for the orphans. They never learn to cook, clean, pay bills, sew on a button, or balance a checkbook. They certainly never learn—or even need—to find a job.

  • Orphans in Russia don’t get a full high school education. A successful program would have to address that. Additionally, we knew we wanted to motivate and prepare them for higher education and careers.

  • For some, higher education may not be an option. They have talent, but it needs to be validated and they need to be given opportunities to use those God-given talents. To survive and become self-supporting contributors to society, they must have the opportunity to learn vocational skills.

  As we continued our work with the orphanages, while laying out our vision for this new work with emancipated graduates, we were led to a ministry to street children in St. Petersburg called Project Life. Though run by Russians, it was supported by the American ministry, Voice of the Children. Licensed in Russia, Project Life offered a shelter for some twenty-five or thirty street children, ages eight to seventeen. Project Life had rented the fourth floor in a dormitory building but were only using half of it.

  The director was a woman named Lena, and Melinda and I were excited as we realized that she and Project Life were real answers to our prayers about how to get started. She offered to rent out the other half of the fourth floor dormitory to us. Equally significant, we were offered the opportunity to come under the legal umbrella of Project Life; therefore, the time, money, and red tape involved in becoming a licensed agency in Russia could be delayed.

  Further, it gave us a vehicle through which we could begin to raise funds. Donations to our “Project Life II” ministry could come in as tax-deductible gifts through the Voice of the Children ministry.

  Lena even asked if we would be willing to take two of her girls from the shelter. Since the girls were eighteen, they were technically too old for Lena’s program, but she did not want to put them out on the street. At the same time, the Lord led us to two other girls living on the streets of St. Petersburg, whom we interviewed and accepted into our fledgling program. Thus, our new ministry began with four residents, in one-half of a fourth floor dormitory, next to a homeless shelter for kids, and under the legal umbrella of the Project Life/Voice of the Children ministry.

  With our vision rather suddenly and remarkably becoming a reality, Melinda and I were now faced with new challenges and opportunities. One day Melinda asked me, “Alex, what would you like to do for Project Life?”

  My answer was immediate. “I would like to go back to America and raise funds for this project.”

  Melinda
was ready for that. “Okay, first I want you to contact any Americans you know and share with them our vision and why you’d like to come to America and see if they support the vision. See if they will let you speak at their churches and home groups.”

  She didn’t need to ask me twice. Soon, the emails were flying from St. Pete to California, Texas, New York, Arizona, and every other state where I had made friends over the years. I had nine years of relationships to build upon. Within two weeks of my first email I had lined up close to one hundred and fifty events that would take me to sixteen different states in the U.S.

  We immediately began the paperwork to get a visa for me. Melinda went with me to the American consulate where we waited in line over five hours. The Lord was clearly blessing these efforts as I was quickly granted a three-month business tour visa for the purpose of fundraising for our Project Life ministry.

  It was June 2001. I was twenty-three years old and, after a four year absence, I was headed back to the United States. Only this time, I had more than just my own future in mind!