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David Bovard ’81 (Social Work): Disciple
Written by Karen Wood and reprinted with permission from the Browncroft Life Change Blog
I retired in November 2014 as Deputy Chief for United States Probation and Parole after serving 23 years. Following a blessed career in criminal justice, I was sensing a shift in heart towards social justice. Human trafficking, missions, and the injustice of poverty were at the forefront of my thoughts. While I felt professionally invested in those areas, nothing directly hit my heart. My constant prayer during this time was a desire to be where the heart of Jesus was and for my heart to break for what breaks His. I am a living example of Psalm 34:7: “Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart.” He answered the desires of my heart. It breaks daily now (in a good way). I never saw it coming. This is my story of God’s goodness and how openness and obedience to Him has changed my life.
A few experiences led to my heart’s shift. About a year ago, I was exposed to the Rochester International Academy, a Rochester city school whose students are almost entirely refugees. My son, Sam, is a middle school ESOL teacher at the school, and I spent a few days observing his class. His students come from literally all over the world, and have varying (and often contrasting) cultures and beliefs. Yet I was struck by how much love he showed them and how much they grew to love not only him, but each other, too. That connection touched my heart. Around the same time, I took the Perspectives missions course and Susan Patt instructed one of the sessions. Her discussion on her intentionality in meeting Muslims and inviting them into a relationship struck a chord with me, although I did not know why. I became involved with our fledgling Browncroft refugee team, trying to figure out a way to reach Rochester’s refugee community. I also read books which pointed me in a certain direction: Possible and Seeking Refuge by Stephan Bauman, and The Justice Calling by Hoang and Johnson. In all of these endeavors, God was planting the seeds and moving me to a course of action.
Although I heard the call, I was nervous about how far it would stretch me. In June, 2016, my wife and I attended one of the town hall meetings that Pastor Rob was holding that preceded The Reach Initiative. At the end of the meeting, Pastor Rob encouraged each person to write on a card the area they were being challenged by God to commit to. The lone yet powerful desire in my heart at that time was to be a bridge between Browncroft and the refugee community. I really had no idea why I wrote that, nor any idea how that was going to happen. Pastor Rob then asked people to read their statements aloud. An inept and fearful feeling crept upon my brain when around the room people were committing to deep spiritual connections, and I had this statement that was so different and seemingly unknown. When it came my time to read, I barely even mumbled what I had wrote. The facilitator asked me say it again in a louder voice. Talk about embarrassment!
That same week, my wife, Adele, took a new job on Long Island. After much thought and prayer between us, she’d be moving six hours east for a professional opportunity that matched her strengths. For the first time in more than twenty years, we’d have to live apart during the week. While she had my full support to pursue her next venture, my life had changed dramatically. Without Adele physically there, I had to find what was next for me. I knew it was the time to listen to God’s call in my heart. I perused the Catholic Family Center website for volunteer possibilities in the refugee community when I saw an opening for a part-time outreach worker. My initial thought was that this post could be an easy transition for me — “dipping my toes into the water,” so to speak. I applied, and within the next week, I accepted the position. While I thought it would start innocuously, God had other plans. Life has not been the same since.
This has been the hardest work I have ever done. It’s also the most rewarding. My job entails taking the refugees to various appointments: Social Services, Social Security, various medical appointments, school registration, etc. While those duties may seem tedious and mundane, it couldn’t be any more powerful. While spending time together, my new friends share stories of loss that truly break my heart. When you are confronted with lives that have been forever altered by the death of loved ones, including deaths of parents in front of their children, deaths of children in front of their parents, being displaced from the country where they grew up, leaving loved ones behind and not knowing their survival, trying to live in a foreign country alone when some of them are barely adults — not to mention the heartbreak of special needs children including CP, Downs Syndrome and paralysis. How can than not change you?
My first couple of weeks on the job, I would come home and weep after my work with families. I would not be able to sleep as I grappled with the pain, suffering, and loss my friends endured. Through these encounters, God was transforming my heart — slashing away the complacency and replacing it with a mercy and compassion that I have never experienced. Their stories are written on my heart.
Over the past several months I have developed personal relationships with a number of individuals. My three “adopted sons” shared our family celebration of Thanksgiving in our home. I ran into them today at the Catholic Family Center Office and they hugged me tight, calling me “Papa,” and wanting to know how “Mama” was doing. I have several Afghani friends who are going to teach me how to cook some cultural dishes. One of my true heroes is a 19-year-old Somali young man named H. He is here with his 16-year-old brother, who has cerebral palsy; 13-year-old sister who has Downs Syndrome; and 6-year-old brother, who is paralyzed. H. has always carried the youngest one everywhere since they never had a wheelchair. I spent half a day with this family and fell in love with all of them. The next time I stopped at their house was the day of our first snow storm. The oldest had never seen or experienced snow, but there he was with huge smile on his face was out shoveling the driveway. My son and I share several friends as he has students of the families I serve. There are so many relationships with these truly amazing people for which I’m grateful.
As I reflect back on my brief journey into the refugee world, I think back to a phrase that my wife and I often talk about. St Frances of Assisi, near his death, prayed for his friars: “I have done what is mine to do. May Christ teach you what is yours.” Our collective and individual prayer has been, “ what is mine to do?” Being obedient to what is on your heart is one way God teaches us what is ours to do. Our hearts are made to notice, to care, to move toward certain people and certain needs. When their needs are met, our hearts are satisfied. When they aren’t, our hearts hurt and break with their hearts. Yet when we meet the needs of people who are ours to help we increase not only their joy, but ours as well. It is very hard to adequately describe my daily encounter with God during this stage of my life. Each day, when I am with the people assigned to me, I pray for them and their transition to our country. I also pray that their hearts would be open to seeing a loving God in a way that they have never experienced. I am clearly aware of the presence of the Holy Spirit within me. My heart beats faster than normal and I have an incredible peace and joy that exudes in my countenance. I have begun to understand that I am actually in communion with God. Natural ministry comes from living from the inside out. I was recently asked by a Somali family and a Congolese family why I am so happy. I told them I have the love of Jesus in my heart and He wants me to be here with your family. The Somalis (Muslims) started laughing and clapping. The Congolese were beaming with radiant smiles and clicks of their tongues. Being themselves Christian, they were there with me.
As Christians we often say and repeat the phrase, “God is good.” I have said that many times and believed it. Now for the first time I am living it every day. When God truly answers the desires of your heart, the goodness of our Father overflows into your life and touches the others around you. I believe the Holy Spirit reaffirms the wonder and beauty of our perfectly good Father. The work that he is doing in all of us is about deepening the connection to the Father, who brings us identity, purpose, and an awareness of the resources to accomplish our purpose in life. When the Holy Spirit is able to do his work in us, our connection to all that is good and made clear. God is good.
Dallas Willard is an author and theologian I greatly respect. He says “The greater issue facing the world today, with all the heartbreaking needs, is whether those who, by profession or culture, are identified as Christians will become disciples, students, apprentices, practitioners of Jesus Christ, steadily learning from Him how to live the life of the Kingdom of the Heavens into every corner of human existence.” I think back to being obedient to what was on my heart and nervously scrawling those words on that card at the Reach meeting. Many years ago, I believed that God gave me a word about my purpose in life. Isaiah 61:1 says ” The Lord God has put his Spirit in me because the Lord has appointed me to tell the good news to the poor. He has sent me to comfort those whose hearts are broken, to tell the captives they are free and tell the prisoners they are released.” I believed at the time, and still do, that this was pointing me in a direction where His purpose for me would be fulfilled. This is now more evident in my life than ever before. I also know the lyrics of the song “In Over My Head” are so true: “Then You crash over me and I’ve lost control but I’m free, I’m going under, I’m over my head, that’s where you want me to be, I’m going under, I’m in over my head, whether I sink, whether I swim, it makes no difference when I’m beautifully in over my head.” I’m in over my head, but I’ve never been so alive.