I race down the steps and out the front door of our apartment. Doves coo, the wind blows gently, the air is fresh, and my spirit is hopeful as I look out upon a grove of pines near our apartment gate. The sun’s first rays are beginning to waken the flowers as they unfold their pastels to give glory to God. I quietly pass through our gate for my first appointment of the day. It is 6:30 a.m., and someone is waiting to hear of Jesus.

Two retired men greet me with hearty hellos and kisses on both cheeks. They are unshaven, and their kisses are a bit prickly, but their hearts are not. We meet twice a week for morning exercise. Ablak has a belly that he hopes to walk off, and Kutlu is just so social that he can’t pass up an opportunity to talk. These men are as warm to me as true uncles. They wave their walking sticks like swords as they gesture and try to teach me verb conjugations while whacking and poking at objects along the road to the olive groves.
Kutlu is a retired professor of biology and much loved by his students for making class fun. We stop, and he snaps the head off a thistle and then eats the soft core of the stem, “These thistles are good for your gall bladder—very healthful.” Then he laughs and pats Ablak’s belly. “And perhaps it can help for weight loss.”

Again, we stop by a plant, and he pulls off a petal and drinks the drop of water that is cupped in its tiny hollow. “This drop of water is given by God every morning. You must get it before the sun comes up. It is good to stop arthritis.” Kutlu has a story of medicinal properties for every budding plant along the path.

Kutlu and I first met about nine months ago in the forest. He was coming down the trail and noticed Mr. Do-It-Myself playing with some acorns. Kutlu said, “The wild pigs in this area love those seeds.”
Perhaps the Spirit prompted my answer, which turned this brief encounter into a lasting friendship. I replied in Turkish, “The pigs eat the seeds, but I don’t eat the pigs!”

Kutlu was surprised and said, “But you are a Christian, aren’t you?”
“God tells us in the Tevrat (Old Testament) that we aren’t to eat pigs,” I replied.

Kutlu was impressed. “I would like to have a Tevrat,” he said. “Do you have one?” That was the beginning of our Emmaus-road journey.
I keep a computer database of all my contacts and spiritual conversations so I can learn from my contacts’ questions and thought themes over time. In the database field called Spiritual Interest, Kutlu is marked as Eager.

Two weeks after I delivered a Bible to Kutlu, I visited his home. He had the Bible sitting open on his sofa. “All of Turkey must read this book!” he said, waving his hand in a broad sweep. Of course, I agreed! Since then, Kutlu has asked me for more Bibles and given them to four of his retired friends.

Not long after this, Esther and I invited Kutlu and his wife to our home. We had decided that we would not try to make religious conversation with them. Rather, we would just let the friendship flow and see if Kutlu would bring up spiritual things. Several times as we visited, Kutlu steered the conversation toward the Bible. He said that he and his wife are reading the Bible aloud an hour a day, and then they discuss what they’ve read. They are up to the book of Joshua now! In dramatic fashion, he recited the stories of the Passover meal, the parting of the Red Sea, the quail, and the water from the Rock! Kutlu also showed me a passage in the Koran (6:154-156) that says that no one should say that the Torah and the Incil (New Testament) were only given to the Jews and the Christians. They are for all people!”

As we walk and talk in the mornings, our friendship grows. Sometimes I bring Mr. Do-It-Myself along in a jogging stroller. Ablak and Kutlu love our merry little guy, playing horse and carriage with him. Esther and I trust Kutlu and his wife like family and have left our son with them several times.

Our morning strolls this spring and summer have been like walking with the men on the Emmaus road. Kutlu is growing in his awareness that Jesus is more than a prophet. As we walk, we talk of Abraham, Moses, and David and all they had to say about Jesus. Being a teacher, Kutlu loves the parables of Jesus. (I call Kutlu Hoja, which means something like guru, and he loves it.) As we walk, he will say, “Some of the seeds fell on the ground, and the birds came and ate them up. But some of the seeds fell on the good soil and took root.” Eyes gleaming, he shares the parables of the wheat and the tares or of the sheep and the goats. He says to me in jest, “I am your best student.” It is true!

Truthfully, my Turkish is still horrible. I feel like I can communicate thoughts about as effectively as a sieve bails water. Oh, how I wish I could explain in detail the truths I know! Our conversations are difficult and awkward, but they happen, and faith is sprouting. The other morning, I explained to Kutlu that Jesus is the Lamb sacrificed for our sins. I told how John the Baptist (whom Muslims revere) proclaimed, “Look! The Lamb of God!”

Kutlu’s respect of Islam, the Koran, and Mohammad are all very deep. He is trying to harmonize what he is reading with what he has learned all his life. At first, he would say things like, “There are three true paths. The Jews have Moses as their prophet, Christians have Jesus, and Muslims have Mohammad. Each must follow their prophet.” Taking my walking stick and drawing a line in the dust, I tried to explain how God has one plan from Adam, Noah, and Abraham forward, and it is a plan of faith. I drew a circle and told how Abraham’s relatives worshiped the moon and how God called him out of that situation. Then with my stick I showed how Abraham came into the one true line. Drawing another circle, I called it the religion of the Pharisees and told how Jesus called his people out of it and into the line of truth. Then I said, “We must come out of our traditions, too, and follow the true line. It is happening all over the world from people of all traditions and cultures—a movement of truth.” Last week, I heard Kutlu insisting to another man, “There is one true line from Abraham . . . we must follow it.”

Kutlu isn’t afraid to tell others what he is learning. In fact, he likes to startle people with his newfound truths. As we were walking one morning, he told Ablak, “Jesus is Lord. Paul tells us that Jesus is Messiah and Lord.” Wow! How I loved to hear those words in Turkish! On another occasion, four months after Kutlu found a Turkish Desire of Ages in my car and I gave it to him, he said to a Muslim shopkeeper we encountered together, “Jesus said, ‘I am the light of the world.’ We must come away from the darkness into the light.”

O reader, please pray for Kutlu! Last week, we waved goodbye as he and his family moved two hours away to the city of his youth. Could it be God’s plan to use Kutlu to spread gospel seed in a new part of Turkey?

Luke describes how, when the men on the Road to Emmaus realized who Jesus was, “their hearts burned within them!” Ellen White says they couldn’t contain their joy. It was as if they were in a new world. They raced down the path, “with the greatest message ever given and told it to those they met along the way.”

Yes, the joy ember is beginning to ignite! Kutlu told me that, upon arriving in his old home city, “I have given a Bible to my best friend here.” May God’s gospel message move with swiftness in the hands of Turkish men and women who have encountered the living Messiah!

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