Shawn Smucker - Dying Out Loud

Copyright 2013 by Ann Steward

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Published by Influence Resources

1445 North Boonville Avenue

Springfield, Missouri 65802

No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any meanselectronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any otherexcept for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Cover design and interior design by Prodigy Pixel www.prodigypixel.com

Photos on pages 4, 68-73, 174-177, and 178 by Randy Bacon.

Copyright 2013 held by Influence Resources. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Photos on pages 1-3, 12, 18, 28, 36, 48, 58-67, 74, 83, 96, 106, 114, 124, 132, 142, 148, 158, 168-173, 175, 186, 192, 202, 210, 220, 228, 232, and 240 by Stan Steward.

Copyright 2013 held by Ann Steward. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Unless otherwise specified, all Scripture is taken from the 2011 edition of the Holy Bible, New International Version., NIV. Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com. The NIV and New International Version are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.

Scripture quotations marked (NKJV) are taken from The New King James version. 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scripture quotations marked (NLT) are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation. 1996, 2004, 2007. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois 60189. All rights reserved.

Scripture quotations marked (KJV) are taken from the King James Version, which is held in public domain.

The names of the people mentioned in Turkey have been changed to protect their identity.

ISBN: 978-1-93783-096-0

Printed in the United States of America

16 15 14 13 1 2 3 4 5

This book is dedicated to Stan, Ann, Elle, and Stanley for your courage, your love, and your willingness to share your story...

and to Maile, for journeying with me and always eagerly anticipating our next adventure.

PART ONE

Gods Pruning

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One of the 18 million people in Istanbul who do not know Christ.

CHAPTER 1

AN EARNEST PRAYER

Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the L ORD , I will be joyful in God my Savior. The Sovereign L ORDis my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to tread on the heights.

HABAKKUK 3:1719 (STANS LIFE VERSE)

SOMEWHERE ON THE WINDING streets of Istanbul, deep within that 100-mile-wide city, a Muslim man closes his shop early. His name is Faruk. He shuts off the lights and turns the key that nudges the bolt into place. He steps out onto the cobblestones and walks quickly up the street.

A stiff autumn breeze moves around him. The days are shortened at this time of year, but the city remains alive and vibrant. High above him seagulls drift in the open air between the apartment buildings, wings barely moving. The birds are held aloft by an invisible force. A dove sweeps in over Faruks head, then up under an eave, vanishing into an unseen space.

Faruk runs his hand nervously through his black hair and hurries on. When he thinks of why he is going to the mosque, his throat feels sore and tears begin, so he pushes those thoughts down and whispers assurances to himself.

In three months, six months, one year, things will be different. The doctors will see. They have made a mistake, surely. A good man does not die in this way. He is a special mannot a normal man. He will recover. InshaAllah. God willing.

Faruk doesnt notice that the other shopkeepers watch him walk down the street. He pays no attention to people moving around the restaurant or the appliance store or the bank. There is the sound of children laughing a few streets over, but he doesnt hear it. A dog slinks past him and trots down an alleyway; the animal is one of many the city has tagged, given its shots and vaccinations, and left to roam freely. It growls at a pigeon pecking a piece of crusty bread. The bird flutters a few yards off and watches as the dog grabs the bread and trots down the alley, tight against the wall.

The man rushing down the street notices none of these things. His mind is somewhere else.

He turns into the courtyard outside the mosque and stops for a moment to compose himself. Why was he walking so fast? Why was he sweating? He takes a few deep breaths and then enters under the archway.

Its a small mosque situated at the corner of two busy streets. Tall apartment buildings tower above it, looking down over its shoulder. Covered with green and red tiles, it looks less like a mosque than a house from a fairy tale. Cars beep at each other on the street, and taxis dive in and out of different lanes. This is Istanbul traffic at rush hour. Chaos threatens to swallow the presence of the small mosque.

Faruk walks to the large fountain in the courtyard, takes off his shoes and socks, and moves toward one of seven stools surrounding the fountain. He holds his hands under the water and watches it run in rivulets down his fingers, wetting the hair on the back of his hands. He steps into the fountain, and feels the wet surface cold beneath his feet. He washes his hands three times without soap. It is a slow task done with devotion.

He cups his right hand and lifts water into his mouth where he swirls it around, then spits it out. He does this three times. Then he does the same thing with his nose, snorting in the water and blowing it out in a fierce spray. Another man walks up beside him without saying a word and begins his own ablutions: washing his hands, spitting water out of his mouth, blowing water out of his nose. There is a silent camaraderie there as the two men perform the ritual cleansing.

The future is the property of the One who plans it.

-Paul Kocher

Faruk uses both hands to wash his face three times, starting up the top of his forehead and pulling the water down along his face, to his chin. He washes his hands and then up along his arms, letting the water drip from his elbows. He takes water into his right hand and runs it through his hair, then puts both pinkie fingers inside his ears and swirls them around while using his thumbs to wash behind his ears.