The boys were so excited to go and gather manure for our garden today, they could hardly contain their enthusiasm. We got buckets and shovels and headed out into the olive groves where horses, donkeys, and goats roam freely. The boys’ plan was to gather goat pellets one by one, so when they found some big, round cow pies, they were elated. Brother SunnySpot exclaimed as he slid his little shovel under one, “Just look at this beauty!” 

At home, the children put the manure in a wheel barrow and mixed it with water. Then they took buckets of the green, sloppy mixture and spread it on the ground while I turned it under with a spade. Then the boys went off to play while I continued working. 

As I turned the soil, I thought about the events of the winter months and how rewarding they had been. We had just returned to our home after being away for three months on special assignment to a city about eight hours away. The plan had been to have a time of intensive language study, uninterrupted by the constant demands of pastoral ministry. As I turned the soil again and again, I thought about how our study retreat had turned into so much more than we had expected.

I thought about my Christian Turkish language instructor, Gül. I smiled as I thought about her pleasure in studying the Bible with me. In the course of our daily Turkish lessons, I gave her Bible lessons on the subjects of death and hell fire; Daniel 1, 2 and 7 and Revelation 12, 13 and 20. Of course, it was all for the purpose of advancing my Turkish, but oh, how she ate up the material! Finding the teaching on death especially encouraging, she told me, “You wouldn’t believe how many people I am teaching the things you are telling me.” After studying Daniel 2, she shared it with her Catholic sister in another city who immediately shared it with her priest and asked him if I could come and do a Daniel seminar in their parish! (Unfortunately he didn’t think it was such a good idea.) The hours and hours of studying words and ideas from the Bible with Gül are seeds planted in that city that I believe will sprout and grow. 

I also remember with joy our dear Moldavian friend, Susanna, who is married to a Turk. For two years, she has been joining our church by Internet video on Sabbaths. However, for the whole winter we were able to live near her. Each Sabbath, we had a home fellowship together. “Let’s use this time to prepare you for baptism,” I suggested, and she agreed. 

What my family and I had imagined would be an isolated and lonely time on Sabbaths turned out to be richly rewarding. Within a few weeks, our home church with Susanna grew to seven people. I soon realized I shouldn’t just prepare her for baptism; I must prepare her for leadership of a church. I have never taught baptism lessons quite like those, as I sensed I was training a pastor. I felt it was much like what Paul must have done for the Philippian jailer on the night of his baptism. Susanna is a natural leader and devoured all my wife and I could teach her. These are my thoughts as I dig in my garden.

My boys have returned to help me, and we begin digging holes and planting seedlings. As we push soil around some small tomato plants, my son comments, “Look at this soil now! It’s really going to grow.”

“Yes, and it’s because you guys hauled all that manure. Thanks for your good work.”

As we plant peppers, eggplant and zucchini, I think more about the seedlings we left in that other city. One seedling is named Sezgen, a 25-year-old Protestant who longs to study theology. He came to Christ from Alevi Islam about five years ago. He contacted a Seventh-day Adventist brother through Facebook the week before we arrived in his city. Providentially, he lived just five minutes from us. (In a city of a million, I don’t think it was chance.) 

When I first met with Sezgen, he said, “Teach me everything—not just the basics.” He is very bright. At first, I could see he was only exploring Adventism, like a student in a World Religions course. He had already looked into Baha’ism, Scientology and Mormonism; not searching to believe, only to understand. But by the end of our second lesson, I could see that the arrows of truth were sinking deep, and he was thinking hard about what he was learning. He began attending the Sabbath gatherings at our home. Then one Sabbath during testimony time, he began speaking as if talking to himself out loud. Slowly and contemplatively, he said, “The prophet Daniel told us that a power would come who would try to change times and laws. But we gather to honor God who established the Sabbath and asked us to remember the day He sanctified.” We all stared at him amazed.

As our time in the city came to an end, I wished I could stay another month or two and teach Sezgen more. He could be a brilliant Adventist pastor in the making. Would his convictions hold after we left?

How Esther and I rejoiced when we got an enthusiastic email from Susanna that she and Sezgen had just met together for church on their own! Susanna taught Sabbath School, and Sezgen preached from Romans. What a happy Sabbath they had shared with one other believer! They have met together every Sabbath for three months now, and new possibilities are sprouting. Sezgen is considering how he might attend an Adventist seminary.

The three months we spent in that distant city wasn’t much, but it was enough to stir the spiritual soil, plant some seeds and get something growing. These little tomatoes my boys and I have planted don’t look like much right now, but just wait until summer’s end! 

Before leaving the city, I spoke with Sezgen’s pastor, Mustafa. Mustafa is a Turkish Presbyterian minister, sincere and quite talented. As I sat with him, he told me of his desire to quit smoking, and I shared with him the Breathe Free resources I had. He asked if there was any way I could lead a seminar for him and his church. Then he said something that really surprised me: “I have a book by Ellen White called Patriarchs and Prophets. It is my favorite source for preparing sermons. Do you have any other books by Ellen White in Turkish?”

I had in my bag a Desire of Ages. He was happy to receive it and asked if I had anything more. Well, our team has spent years translating The Great Controversy, Christ’s Object Lessons, and The Acts of the Apostles into Turkish. I gave the pastor all of these in digital format, as he prefers to read on his iPad. Yes, I am glad to have planted those seeds, too. 

And what more can I say that God has done with us during three months in a foreign city? Oh, my French-speaking African Muslim friends I wrote about last month. These men whom I met in a grocery store aisle now read the Bible. I laughed with joy on the phone last night when Sezgen reported that these Muslim men are attending Susanna’s newly formed Sabbath group! Yes, those seedlings will grow, too.

In the short space of this article, I can’t report all the other friendships, conversations and prayers we had during our time in that city. I ponder it all as I work in my garden. I think about that manure and its wonder-working effects on the soil and the growth of the plants. We moved to a city of a million with no Adventist presence, and within three months, where there was nothing, there is now something. I had only intended to study language and take a Sabbatical from ministry demands, but God had “other plans.” God says, “For I know the plans I have for you, a future and a hope.”

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