I grew up in a caring, intellectually stimulating home. My parents treated my brother and me with respect. We were never hungry and always had what we needed. But religion wasn’t part of our home. I never considered that anything or anyone might actually exist somewhere beyond my tangible world. I never dreamed God could speak to me.
My parents quarreled a lot, and when I was 10 years old, they divorced. Father had a top-secret job in the army, and Mother was a clerk at the town hall. After the divorce, my brother and I lived with our mother. There I finished high school and planned for my future.
One day, I met a former schoolmate on the street in our town. We weren’t close friends, but we shared a similar philosophy of life. I was surprised when he started talking about religion. Right there in the street, Kveto began telling me about Jesus Christ, about God’s love for me, and about the Bible and prophecy. He spoke enthusiastically, and I became embarrassed as passersby stared at us. Soon, I had heard enough. I excused myself and walked on, wondering what had changed Kveto so radically.
I met Kveto on the street several times soon after that. Each time we met, he turned the topic of our conversation to religion. He spoke, I listened, and from time to time I tried to outwit him with a question I didn’t think he could answer. But my lack of religious training and knowledge of the Bible was no match for Kveto’s newfound Christian zeal.
Each time we met, Kveto invited me to his house to study prophecy. Finally, I agreed to go. While Kveto wanted to prove that God exists, I was more interested in proving that He didn’t. I told him I thought the Bible could have been written by anybody and that it certainly wasn’t true. I wanted to set Kveto straight.
Kveto always prayed before we opened the Bible, and later he admitted that he prayed after I left his house. As we began studying the prophecies, I felt a growing curiosity about what the Bible had to say about the future. We studied the books of Daniel and Revelation and some writings of Ellen G. White.
Then something strange happened. I came home from a Bible study and began to pray—by myself, alone, for the first time in my life. I didn’t have anything special to say in my prayer; I simply found myself reaching out to make contact with the Power of the universe.