The Story of Cain (part 3)

This is the last part of a three-part story.  To read the first part, click here; to read the second part, click here.

::the final encounter::
I crossed paths with this man a few times since the previous conversation.  I'd be driving around in the city and there he'd be, walking down the center of the road or walking beside the road.  His eyes were still seemingly lidless.  He was always half naked, drooling on his chest, very tough, and very fierce.  Unfortunately over the course of a couple months, every time i found him, i was in a terrible hurry (which is an shameful excuse, now that i think of it) or whenever i did pull over to confront him, he vanished into the crowd, which was weird for him, because he seemed to stick to the streets, not the interiors of crowds of people off the street.  It was as if "it" was avoiding me.
Finally, last week there he was again, not leaping in front of cars, but walking in the middle of the street.  Now that i think about it, it's truly a wonder that he has not perished yet with such habits.  I parked my car at a nearby gas station, trying to keep an eye on him, to make sure he didn't wander off again.  He lurked down the yellow lines in the center of two lanes of opposing traffic.  I ran down the side of the street parallel to him and yelled for him to stop and come over to the side.  Cars were whizzing between us.  I yelled loud enough so that he could hear me, but he seemed to march on completely oblivious to me.  So i darted between a gap in the passing cars and stood in his path on the yellow lines about 15 feet away.  I said calmly in Susu, "N wama woyenfay ee ra.  Woan hai men-ee, keerah set-ee ma. (I want to have a conversation with you.  Let's go over there to the side of the road.)"  He methodically continued in his gate, still not acknowledging me, pacing directly toward me, but looking right through me.  I began to consider that he might not stop.  He might just walk into me or worse.  He might attack me or throw me in front of a passing car.  Nevertheless, i knew that if i moved, i might not get another chance to offer him Hope.  He stopped just in front of me.  He was so close it was awkward.  His face couldn't have been more than 12 inches from my own.  His eyes relaxed just a tad, but were still open, and when he spoke his slobber splattered my face.  "Awa.  Woan hai. (Okay.  Let's go.)"  We strolled over to the gravel sidewalk, between some boutiques and the street.  He took a stance the same distance from me as before, still slobbering on me whenever he spoke.  I noticed his shaved head was rift with scars from where he (i assume) cut himself.  He had slice-scars that spanned long and wide from his crown to his cheeks.  They covered most of his scalp and face.  I asked, "What is your name."  "Xabila (pronounced: khah-BEE-lah).  I'm a mason.  I have built many things.  Now give me 5,000 francs, and I'll be on my way," he replied.  Xabila is the Susu form of Cain.  Not surprising, he is the only Susu i've met by that name.  For that matter, he is the first person i've met by that name (if you don't count the Rev. Charles Cain, who did Racheal's and my wedding tattoos).  By the way, 5,000 francs of local currency is the equivalent of $0.72 in US dollars.  Not exactly enough to make or break me.  It appeared that he was accustomed to receiving money from strangers.  I imagine people, not having any hope of offering anything more than money, will toss a monetary bill or two at him as if one would throw a dog a bone.  I told him, "I have something much more valuable to give you than money.  You have a demon in you, right?"
"Yes."
"Do you want freedom from the demon?"
"Yes."
"The Prophet Jesus offers you freedom from this demon.  He can remove it from you."
"Give me 5,000 francs, and i'll be on my way."
"I don't want you to go away like this.  I'm not going to give you any money.  Do you realize that Jesus is more powerful than demons.  His name is the most powerful name.  You can follow Him and be free from this demon."
"But i follow Mohammed."
"Yes, but there's NO power in the name of Mohammed.  That name CANNOT free you from this demon."
I realized that what i had just said was diminutive of Mohammed's name and was not something one typically announces in a crowd of Muslims, which such a crowd was now carefully observing our conversation.  I looked over my shoulder to see what response it would arouse, if any.  People just looked confused and were whispering in each other's ears.  They didn't seem to be phased or offended, just perplexed.
He repeated, "I am a mason.  I follow Mohammed.  Give me 5,000 francs."
"I will not give you money, but i want you to know that there is freedom to be had from this state of torment you are in.  It is found in Jesus alone, not Mohammed."
We parted ways.  He resumed his path, including his spiritual path.  I returned to my truck, frustrated and heartbroken.
Wasn't it supposed to end differently?  Wasn't Cain supposed to fall in love with Jesus and be 100% free from the demon that has tormented him so long?  Weren't the bystanders who witnessed such a miracle supposed to come to Christ as well?  Weren't Cain and i and all the souls he would have led to Christ by his amazing testimony supposed to praise Jesus for all eternity around the Throne of God screaming at the top of our lungs, "HOLY!  HOLY!  HOLY IS THE LORD GOD ALMIGHTY!  THE WHOLE EARTH IS FILLED WITH HIS GLORY!"?  I sure thought so... at least i'd hoped so.
Alas, Cain chose.  He chose not follow Christ and he chose not to renounce his allegiance to the demon that enslaved him and to the name of Mohammed.  He chose, like his first namesake in the Book of Genesis, the path of destruction.
If Cain wants what he has more than a life of freedom, i can't make him change his mind.  So i left him to go his way.  I don't intend to chase him anymore.  I have a peace about that.
What i don't have a peace about is the fact that i don't think i have ever met someone that was as clearly tormented by the Enemy as Cain, and he didn't want freedom bad enough to run from his Captor into the safe arms of Jesus.  What i don't have a peace about and is most troublesome to me is the fact that if i couldn't convince Cain that there is a better way than the wretched state he is in, then who the heck could i ever convince?
Then again, my job is to simply invite people to the Kingdom.  That's my role.  As an ambassador of that Kingdom to this world, i try to hand out as many visas as possible, but i can't force people to take advantage of that visa.  I do not draw souls to salvation.  The Father does that.  I do not save people .  Jesus does that.  I do not convince hearts and minds of anything of eternal significance.  The Holy Spirit does that with groanings too deep for words.  And, we can rejoice in the fact that those quintessential factors are left in the capable hands of the Almighty, not corey pendergrass.
Thanks for reading about this journey.
Pray for Cain.

The Story of Cain (part 2)

This is the second part of a three-part story.  To read the first part, click here.

::the next encounter::
Since my last encounter with the man who was stabbing himself wasn't very positive, i was determined that if i ever saw him again, i would try to speak Truth to him.  This was not just some insane person.  This was and is a soul that Jesus shed His precious blood to ransom from sin and damnation and demon possession.  If i am to living by the teachings of my Savior, i am to walk by faith and consider this man as Christ does, as someone that i desperately want to join the chorus around the Throne one day and scream at the top of our lungs "HOLY! HOLY! HOLY IS THE LORD ALMIGHTY!  THE WHOLE EARTH IS FILLED WITH HIS GLORY!"  During my first encounter with him my thoughts were limited to "Oh crap, he might stab me."  Hopefully at the next encounter i would have the courage to think "Oh crap, if i don't do something, this guy will probably be tormented the rest of his life and the rest of eternity."
I was driving along through one of the largest traffic circles in the country, and there he was.  He was unarmed this time, but just as self-destructive as before.  This time he was walking down the center of two lanes of traffic leaping in front of every car as it passed by.  People were slamming on the brakes and swerving to miss him.  He was barking like a dog (more like a baboon's bark, if you've ever heard that).  There were about 6-8 cops sitting under a shelter about 15 yards away minding their own business, not concerned about this guy and what he was doing.  For that matter, no one except the drivers, seemed to even notice him.  Everyone just ignored him.  I think that's because they know they can't offer him hope.  They know they can't do him any real and lasting good.  They accept him for how he is and are complacent to look the other way and not get involved.  I don't blame them.  If i was not filled with the power and protection of the Holy Spirit i bet i wouldn't be rushing into a showdown with a demon.  Since that's not the case, i refuse to pass by complacent while humans beings are being inflicted.  Best of all, i know that i have Hope to give him.
I pulled my car over after swerving to miss him.  I walked over to him, still beside the road.  I noticed his eyes were wide open, painfully wide, not shutting.  Slobber covered his bare chest.  He looked incredibly muscular and jacked for a typical West African.  It took me about a minute to muster the courage to say something i'd never said before.  I shouted to the evil spirit that was inside him in Susu, "Hay!  Ee tahn nyeenay nah ra?! (Hey! Are you a demon?!)"  The man stopped, snapped his head and neck toward me and it replied in a deep growling yell, "EEYO! (YES!)"  It was as if everyone within earshot was suddenly frozen.  They had paid no attention to this man before, but now every eye was fixed on us.  I'm not sure, but i think they were trying to determine which of us was crazier.  I was definitely operating outside of their acceptable stereotypical white-man-behavior.  I commanded the demon loud enough for everyone nearby to hear, "Anahbee Eesah kheelee ra, n falama ee bay, ee kha keeree yee meexee mah.  Ee kha siga. (In the name of the Prophet Jesus, i tell you must get out of this person.  You must go.)"  The man began to twitch and convulse, still standing, for about two seconds.  He stopped and blinked a few times, seemingly at peace.  He looked around with a puzzled expression on his face as if to say, "Where am i?"  That lasted about five seconds.  Then the most bizarre thing happened.  He stumbled forward, as if something had struck him from behind.  He caught his steps and stood erect again, shrugged his shoulders like an athlete loosening up before a competition, and then opened his eyes as wide as before.  He turned away and began to resume leaping in front of vehicles.
It was incredibly puzzling to me.  What had just happened?  Wasn't he supposed to be free now?  Why was he jumping in front of cars yet again?  I can't be certain exactly what happened in the spiritual realm here, but it appeared that the demon was effectively cast out by the power of Jesus, the man had a few moments of freedom, and then the demon came back to the man to begin tormenting him yet again.  Obviously, this or any interpretation of what had just transpired was troubling to me.  Unsure of what to do next, i just got back in my truck and left.
As thankful as i am for my upbringing in solid-doctrine Baptist churches my whole life, i concede that none of those American churches' teachers and preachers taught much about exercising demons.  I decided to seek the advice of a trusted colleague and confidant, JD.  JD and his family have served in this country for several years and they've seen it all.  He is as sold-out for Jesus as any person i've ever had the pleasure of knowing.  JD was able to shed some light on Scripture that i'd never considered in such a context as this before.
“When the unclean spirit has gone out of a person, it passes through waterless places seeking rest, and finding none it says, ‘I will return to my house from which I came.’ And when it comes, it finds the house swept and put in order. Then it goes and brings seven other spirits more evil than itself, and they enter and dwell there. And the last state of that person is worse than the first.” (Luke 11:24-26)
"Jesus then asked him, 'What is your name?' And he said, 'Legion,' for many demons had entered him. And they begged him not to command them to depart into the abyss. Now a large herd of pigs was feeding there on the hillside, and they begged him to let them enter these. So he gave them permission. Then the demons came out of the man and entered the pigs, and the herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake and drowned." (Luke 8:30-33)
Though i'm not going to hang my faith on it, JD's explanation seems to hold water according to these two passages.  JD suggests this is what transpired: In Jesus' name the demon was effectively cast out of my acquaintance.  However, i neglected to follow Jesus' example in instructing the demon where to go to.  Indeed, i did not send the demon into "the abyss" or any unsuspecting livestock nearby.  I just told it to leave.  It did.  Then, having received no further instructions in Jesus' name, it did as it pleased, which evidently included returning to this man, perhaps bringing other demons along with it.
As you may have guessed, though this explanation satisfied my lack of understanding, it do not make me feel any better.  It's quite possible that i unknowingly put this poor man in a worse state than before i'd found him.
So, i solemnly resolved to find this man once again give him the chance to be free for good.
Alas, finding him was easier said than done...

Click here for part 3.

The Story of Cain (part 1)

::the first encounter::
He was a wild man.  Not the first i've seen, nor the last, but he was insane, but not just mentally.  There was something about him.  He was in torment.  You could see it in his eyes, as wide open as i could imagine eyes could be.  He was dashing around in the crowd beside the street, a few feet from where i buy bread every week.  He was leaping at people, and they were dodging him.  He bore a long knife which he was rapidly thrusting in and out of his mouth like the bolt on a machine gun.  I would of thought he would surely kill himself or had already done enough damage to do so except for one thing.  He wasn't bleeding, just salivating like an exhausted dog.  The spit dripped from the knife and chin and his chest, and the his vigorous motions slung it for several feet in every direction.
He lunged at me, still stabbing himself.  As my adrenaline raced my heart rate up, my perception of the events around me eased to slow motion.  I considered that the local population is probably about 10% HIV positive.  I considered that the knife, though not having in visible blood, might indeed have some bodily fluids that i don't want on me.  So, i ran away.  I ran for my life.
It was only later that i took the time to process those strange events.  That's when it hit me.  This man was not clinically ill (or not merely clinically ill).  He was possessed by a demon.

Now, most of you folks reading this grew up in North America or Europe.  If so, you probably are probably having some sort of worldview clash with my last statement.  If you are not a Christian or religious person, you've probably just dismissed everything i've ever said and ever will say.  Alas, i don't intend to persuade you in the lines of this impersonal blog.  If you are a Christian (not just an adherent or cultural-Christian, but one who is born again), on the surface you are probably feeling much like the non-religious variety.  But, at your core, you are probably not willing to dismiss this notion of demon-possession (along with a few other sorts of paranormal activity) because you know such events are written in the pages of Scripture and to deny that such events are real would be to deny the validity of the Bible.  Or perhaps you have a hybrid theology on the subject: such events happened in Biblical times, but not in 2013.
I'm not going to hang my faith on it, but i'd like to attempt to explain why such manifestations of demons seem abundant in Scripture but are relatively completely absent from your present experience.  Since the dawn of the Age of Enlightenment, and more recently the postmodern age, North Americans and Europeans alike have reached stage in cultural evolution that often dismisses spiritual or supernatural phenomenons and chalks them up to unexplained scientific events.  Fair enough, some unexplained events can and should be attributed with a scientific explanation.  Not all, but some.
But, consider that in the developing world, which is largely animistic in worldview, most people are not and could not be convinced that there is no such thing as a spiritual realm.  As such, demons (if they do in fact exist) are more than delighted to torment people through a wide gamut of manifestations that are terrifying and undeniably demon-caused.  Such demons would be content to inflict harm on people in such a way that keeps them in state of fear and submission to said demons.
To the contrary, the same demonic realm that is just as active in the North America and Europe, but this time the demons know fewer and fewer people are embracing the God Who saves, and turning to behavior and a mentality that is godless.  To remind humans that there is a spiritual realm by manifesting demon power in such a way that is undeniably supernatural, would be folly.  No, they are much craftier than that.  If their primary goal is to prevent people from embracing the God Who saves, what could be more strategic in a post-modern society than to tempt and torment people behind the scenes in such a way that they don't realize demons are behind it.
That's why you read about demons in Scripture, but probably have not encountered them face-to-face in your life today.  Marinate on that.

Click here for part two.

Man vs Beast

This morning at 1am the public electricity turned off so i got up to check it out.  As my flashlight illuminated the kitchen where our electrical panel is, i startled a critter in the dark.  I heard the plastic cookie wrappers stiring in the shadows and knowing what it was immediately by experience, i fixed my light beam i that direction.  It scurried, still unseen, only heard, behind our wooden shelves.  I grabbed an aerosol can of Spritex Insect Killer, which is manufactured in China and is so toxic it's not allowed inthe States.  I fumigated the animal out of hiding by spraying behind the shelf.  Not enjoying the DDVP and tetramethrin flooding it's lungs, the rat finally showed itself by darting across the floor and into the open cabinet under the sink.  It's body was a good six or seven inches long, not including the tail. Now cornered, i shined the flashlight right in its eyes which was the last thing it will have ever seen, because i sprayed Spritex in its face from a few inches away.  Now blind, the rodent leaped onto my shirtless belly and returned the favor by clawing a nasty scratch four inches long.  It fell to the floor where i dropped my flashlight and ran across my feet.  I attempted an ad hoc River Dance in the dark to stomp the beast, but to no avail.  It disappeared into the opposite side of the kitchen under the fridge and stove.  As my respiratory rate increased in all the excitement and appliance moving it became painfully evident i'd inhaled some of the pesticides myself and, i began to cough uncontrollably.  I gave up and called a truce for the night and returned to bed.
After dawn i decided to walk the length of my private power line stretching about 200 meters from my house down the street since my voltage has recently dropped from 220V to 160V.  This could mean a bad wire somewhere or one of my neighbors had tapped my line and was stealing voltage.  I entered my Lebonese neighbor's yard, invited by his guard.  After talking with that neighbor i proceded to exit through the gate of his compound and and the guard dog began biting my ankles, one of whiched was bloodied during the debacle.  Now mamed by a mutt, scratched by a rat, and poisoned by China, i returned home before 8am, as glad as ever ever to be a US American on the Fourth of July.  Happy birthday USA!

Immediate Gratification

As a Westerner (ie. one who is from North America or Europe) one of the most frustrating things for me two witness about Susu culture (and Sub-Saharan African culture in general) is that they almost always go for the immediate limited gratification rather than the greater long term reward.
Every taxi driver is supposed to have certain documents in his possession whenever he is working: a driver's license, a permit to taxi, a vehicle registration, and vehicle insurance.  He (there are no "she" taxi drivers) may be stopped at anytime at will by traffic custodians for any reason and demanded to show his papers.  The cost of those combined documents is hefty, though not insurmountable, maybe around $120 for the first year and $80 per year after that.  There is away around having to acquire those documents.  Virtually every taxi in the land does it.  They daily give a bribe to the custodians who will gladly wave them by.  Reward is immediate and short lived, but it's "cheaper" than the alternative.  Or is it?  Consider the accumulated amount of bribes given in a typically year.  I estimate that every taxi driver pays about $250-$500 year in these daily "installments."  Why?  Because it's easier to pay $1 365 times per year than it is to pay $120 one time per year.
A typical poor family has some leftover rice and meat sauce. after a meal  They "store" it somewhere in the house (Few people have the means to buy and maintain a refrigerator.).  After a few days it spoils, but even though the total cost of the remain food is about $1's worth, far be it from the family to "waste" food by throwing it out.  They feed it too their children.  Then the children get sick and have to go to the doctor and pay $7 for the antibiotics.  Say what?
Again, a security guard may have a "good-paying" job, making an annual salary of $1500 (the average making $1000).  However, his wife had a baby and he needs to host a baby-naming ceremony for 150 of their closest relatives.  In honor of his new child, he must provide an animal sacrifice like a sheep or an ox.  Despite the nine-month warming he had to prepare for this ceremony, he was "unable" to save the money.  So, he decides to steal some of the possessions he is guarding and sell them in the local market... making $90.  He takes the money and buys the animal, hosts the feast, and earns great respect among his clan for his "sacrifice."  When the boss learns of his thievery, he loses his job and annual income in exchange for... immediate gratification.
Scenarios like this happen every day here.  It blows my mind and even cultivates in me a lowly view of the culture as a whole.  I think, "They're so dumb.  Why do they do that?"
But wait a second.  When US American kids grow up and give their families an 18-year warning, do parents typically save for thier entire college education or do they apply for student loans during their senior year of high school (which, by the way, will cost them more money with the incurred interest)?  Do typical Americans ride the public transportation system (or when there isn't one lobby for one) or do they hop in the SUV and pay $10 for a trip to Walmart that could have cost them $1 if they had taken the bus?  Do most Americans spend an extra $20,000 when building or renovating a house so that their energy bill will be $150,000 less over the next 20 years?
Granted, those things may seem trivial and 95% of your reading this have a "but" statement already on the tip of your tongue in objection to what i just said.  "But" what if we took it too the next level?
Most Susu who have an opportunity to hear the Gospel reject it, not in essence, but in practice.  Some even say, "I believe everything you're saying, but what would my family say if i became a Christian?"  They forfeit the eternal reward of eternal life in exchange the temporary respect of their elders.  It's the here and now that we humans desire.  Though we probably don't word it like this, we are willing to be shamed before our Heavenly Father so we won't be shamed before our temporary earthly fathers.  We humans have this uncanny ability to disregard the infinite and dwell in the finite.  No one smokes pot because of the awesome affects it will have on their brain 10 years from now.  No one looks at porn because they think it will be awesome for their marriage 20 years from now.  No one develops an eating disorder because of how healthy it will make them 5 years from now.  No one rejects Christ because they think it will be awesome in hell for eternity.  Immediate gratification.  Here.  Now.  Me.  Mine.
What will last?

"For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling, if indeed by putting it on we may not be found naked. For while we are still in this tent, we groan, being burdened—not that we would be unclothed, but that we would be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. He who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who has given us the Spirit as a guarantee. So we are always of good courage. We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight. Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord. So whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please him. For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive what is due for what he has done in the body, whether good or evil." (2 Corinthians 5:1-10)

"According to the grace of God given to me, like a skilled master builder I laid a foundation, and someone else is building upon it. Let each one take care how he builds upon it. For no one can lay a foundation other than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ. Now if anyone builds on the foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw—each one's work will become manifest, for the Day will disclose it, because it will be revealed by fire, and the fire will test what sort of work each one has done. If the work that anyone has built on the foundation survives, he will receive a reward. If anyone's work is burned up, he will suffer loss, though he himself will be saved, but only as through fire.

Do you not know that you are God's temple and that God's Spirit dwells in you? If anyone destroys God's temple, God will destroy him. For God's temple is holy, and you are that temple.

Let no one deceive himself. If anyone among you thinks that he is wise in this age, let him become a fool that he may become wise. For the wisdom of this world is folly with God. For it is written, “He catches the wise in their craftiness,” and again, “The Lord knows the thoughts of the wise, that they are futile.” So let no one boast in men. For all things are yours, whether Paul or Apollos or Cephas or the world or life or death or the present or the future—all are yours, and you are Christ's, and Christ is God's." (1 Corinthians 3:10-23)

Within Your Grasp

Reaching Out: (essentials for the skimmers)
    •    Enjoy our March 2013 video, "Within Your Grasp."

Within Your Grasp from corey pendergrass on Vimeo.

• It's been ten months since we moved to our new home.  We have nine months left in our three-year term.
• The microSD distribution ministry becoming more dynamic and versatile than ever.
• A volunteer, Josh Clark, came in January and helped us in our ministry.
• Racheal is teaching Fisher pre-school at home.
• Racheal shares memorized Bible stories with women in our community.
• We have engaged a valley of Susu people that have never heard the Good News before.
• We have been leading a youth group of missionary kids in the capital.

Taking Hold: (details for the readers)

Dear partners in growing the Kingdom,

You may have noticed that our last video update came a month late (in our intentions of producing a video bimonthly) and this video came three months late.  That's no bueno.  The good news is, we've been too busy doing ministry stuff in Susu Land.  Even so, from the bottom of our heart, please accept our apology for the delay.

Since October, the holiday season was super busy and was surprisingly a big whirlwind in our memories.  However, after the New Year we started taking advantage of the dry season and began doing more outreach than ever before among the Susu people and the other hodgepodge of people groups here in the capital.  About the time we got a breather in February, one of our children spilled some water on our computer.  That was a major setback, but our home church in NC, the River Church, bought us a refurbished computer identical to the one we lost.  Fortunately, we didn't loose anything because we recently backed up the old computer and were able to migrate everything to the new one.  Way to go, Body of Christ!

Because of that, when the computer arrived a couple weeks later with a volunteer team, we were able to pick up right where we left off with our multimedia files that we copy to microSD cards.  We are so thankful.

Back in late January, we had a volunteer come out named Josh Clark.  We were so thankful for his presence, because he not only helped us organize our multimedia library for evangelism, but he also went trekking with us to an area that had never been engaged by missionaries.  We were sad to see him go after three weeks.

This city of two million residence has several mission families living here with middle and high school-aged children.  Ironically, the last missionaries that lived in our house and moved back to the States used to lead a youth group comprised of those students.  We have since been lead to take up that touch and continue leading the youth group.  We are so thankful for this ministry opportunity.

Prayer Requests:

• Please pray for our boys growing in this foreign land finding their place in the world.
• for the microSD ministry to grow like wildfire
• for Racheal memorizing her stories from the Bible
• for protection on our technology equipment
• for God to call many Susu people to Himself

Thanks for lifting us up!
'til the whole world hears,
corey reid pendergrass

Pray for Mo.

You wanna hear a cool story?
Mo, my watchman told me this morning that yesterday his 8-year-old niece went missing and the family searched all night and couldn't find her.  So, he came to me to ask if he could go look for her instead of working for me today.  "Uhhh... YEAH!"  So i told him to go quickly and find her.  As he was leaving my yard i told him to come back and pray with me first. (To give you some back-story, Mo has been quite opposed to discussing Jesus with me or reading the Bible, despite that his holy book tells him to do both.  Go figure.)  So, i prayed in the name of Jesus that God, Who finds lost people, would find this lost girl and bring her home safely and quickly.  Mo left and came back in about 5 minutes.  He told me that the family had just found the girl who had been taken in last night by a good Samaritan from a different rival tribe known for being lazy worthless people according to Mo's astute and hardworking tribe (The parallels to the story of the Good Samaritan are vast here.).  I told Mo, "Prayer works."  He shrugged his shoulders and walked away.  Please pray this would soften his heart to the message of Christ Who saves that which is lost.

A Migration

So, you might be thinking to yourself, "Hey, this doesn't look like your old blog."  Bingo.
I just wanted to write a quick note as to why we left the SMOi Blog as our primary blog and created a new one (or two).
The Snowbird Missions Outreach International (SMOi) ministry has evolved quite a bit in the last couple of years.  That's a good thing, but when we started participating in the SMOi Blog, we were part of a community of missionaries that posted communally on smoiblog.blogspot.com.  With perhaps a few exceptions, we felt like we had become, by default, part of a dying breed of posters to that blog.  That being said, Racheal and i wanted to create blogs that were more personal to us in design and following.  We may still post on the SMOi Blog from time to time, but not as our primary blog.
Why "Wild Oaks?"  Though we like oak trees a lot, we weren't pursuing any "go green" fads when we came up with the blog name.  That being said, one of our family's favorite passages in Scripture is Isaiah 61 which reads:

The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me,

because the Lord has anointed me

to bring good news to the poor;

he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

to proclaim liberty to the captives,

and the opening of the prison to those who are bound;

to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor,

and the day of vengeance of our God;

to comfort all who mourn;

to grant to those who mourn in Zion—

to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes,

the oil of gladness instead of mourning,

the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit;

that they may be called oaks of righteousness,

the planting of the Lord, that he may be glorified.

They shall build up the ancient ruins;

they shall raise up the former devastations;

they shall repair the ruined cities,

the devastations of many generations.

Oaks of Righteousness seems a bit conceded to call oneself, but since we know that the righteousness is not our own, but instilled (or as the above verse states, "planted") in us by the Living God, we like the term.  Even so, if you know any thing about the Pendergrass clan, you know that are a bit unconventional, rowdy, raw, unpredicatble, uncouth, reckless, and (hence the blog name) wild.  This is a multi-generational attribute of my paternal blood line, and thankfully, i don't see any chance of it ending in my own progeny.  God loves wild people.  It's a characteristic that He possesses Himself.
That being said, we celebrate being oaks that are wild and have thus named our blog.
Thanks for reading,
'til the whole world hears,
corey

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Things Missed

Last night i was singing to the King with a rockin' praise band aboard the Mercy Ship.  It occurred to me that i don't get to do that sort of thing very often...practically never.  This thought plunged me into considering a gamut of things that i miss about life in the States.  For the sake of balancing things out, i began to consider things that i miss about Susu Land when i visit the States.  Therefore, i figured i'd include my ponderings here in a blog post.

Things i miss about the States when i'm in Susu Land:

• Once or twice a year going to a concert with about 15,000 of your brothers and sisters in Christ and singing anthems to the Author of the Universe at the top of your lungs
• The tendency that most people have to carry on a conversation with strangers and not consider their ethnicity, their economic status, or what one can get out of the other
• Government employees and law enforcement who benefit the common good of the people they govern
• Justice
• Lexington BBQ, Taco Bell, movie theaters, miniature golf, Costco, hunting, bowling alleys, and delicatessens
• Sandy beaches that are not covered with syringes and plastic bags
• Bluegrass conventions
• Gun shows
• Smooth trash-free roads
• Religious tolerance (the kind where they let you live if you follow Jesus)...I don't miss the kind where people say everyone's going to heaven cause it sounds nicer.
• Sane traffic
• The "FDA approved" labels, construction and building codes (that ensure structures are safe to enter), and annual vehicle safety and emissions inspections (that heighten the probability that the vehicle you're riding is is roadworthy)
• The ability to leave my car without locking it
• When Christians not only recognize they have freedom, but also live out, despite the cultural norms

Things i miss about Susu Land when i'm in the States:

• The hospitality of most people to openly invite strangers to a meal, a bed, and a warm conversation
• Rampant hitchhiking
• Untamed natural beauty
• The spontaneity and unpredictability of every. single. day.
• The ability to take it slow
• How pretty much every Christian knows it's their responsibility to take the Good News to their neighbors
• Spicy meat sauce on rice
• Being invited to converse with village chiefs and elders in the meeting hut
• The phenomenon that causes thankfulness from the smallest blessings
• The unity of the Christian community, particularly when under persecution
• The hunger of millions to hear the Gospel

Setting Captives Free

Being in prison yesterday was quite eye-opening for me.  I've done prison ministry once or twice in North Carolina.  Inmates are fed three hot meals a day, they receive standard clothes, a bed, and an organized laundry service, and they have access to books, running water, TV, sporting equipment, board games, and limited (but at least some) communication with the outside world.
Here in Susu Land it is different.  We walked through a series of heavily guarded gates and checkpoint as expected.  An open sewer drained through the entire prison compound in the middle of the cement ground.  The stench clued me to what we were stepping across as we passed the "women's area" and the "men's area" proceeding to the back of the prison compound.  Razor-wire coiled around the top of the perimeter wall.  We went through a final door into the "youth area."  We passed by a guard in mismatched military fatigues.  In any other world, i might suspect that the inmates had overthrown the real guards and dressed themselves in their clothes.  However, any olive green outfit seems to be acceptable as official military uniform.  Soldiers in the same detachment where digital camo, hunting (Mossy Oak brand) camo, the old standard (Woodland) camo, and plain solid green.  Alas, this knowledge was ironically comforting to me, since it reassured me this was probably a real guard, not an imposter.  Whatever short-experienced "comfort" i just felt was melted by the fact that was the last guard we encountered as we rounded the corner of a few buildings into an area far from the sight (and perhaps hearing) of the wardens.  We were warmly greeted by about 130 young men.  They were socializing around in the yard, taking turns using the restroom behind a curtain in the awful smelling latrine.  Most were half naked, tattooed and scarred.  They didn't look terribly sick, but were definitely skinnier than most people in Susu Land.  I was wearing some Old Navy blue jeans and a quick-dry collared golf shirt.  Bill, Josh, and i stood out like the cream in an Oreo.  These teens were given one meal a day, and i imagine the food pyramid was not consulted when the menu was set.  Most of them have the clothes on their backs, tattered and torn.  One showed me his shorts he was wearing, full of holes.  He had worn the same shorts for four months now.  He didn't own a shirt.
They noticed i had some books in my hand.  Their curiosity overcame their inhibition and asked me what i had brought.  I was swarmed by most of the guys trying to shoulder in and get a peek.  I showed them a handful of Scripture calendars, which quickly got passed around and disappeared in the crowd.  Then a showed them my New Testament in their language.  I announced i'd like to read to them from God's Word.  The quickly ushered the three of us to the only bench in the yard and ordered us to sit down and read.
Bill and Josh prayed to themselves.  I read Mark 5 -the story the man possessed by Legion, but set free by Jesus.  For a while, except for the sound of my voice, you could have heard a pin drop.  Eventually about 30 of them stayed locked in to the story.  Others lost interest and one-by-one trickled away.  At one time about 10 feet away an intense argument broke out, and i thought it was going to turn violent.  The listeners couldn't hear me, so they shushed the fighters.  I continued reading.  When i finished telling the story i asked questions about what they learned.  I asked them why the demons were afraid of Jesus.  The repeated back to me that Jesus was more powerful than the demons.
They had understood.
Then i read Acts 16 -the story of Paul and Silas in the Philippian jail.  I asked them what the people in that jail had to do to be saved.  The young men repeated back that they had to believe in Jesus.
They had understood.
One of the young men begged me for my New Testament.  I gladly gave it to him in exchange for his promise to share it with others.
No, we didn't have an "altar call," but Truth was know that day.  You can't rush into these things here.  Last night, i imagine many of the young men lost sleep pondering about Jesus, the healed man, Paul, Silas, and the jailer.  Lord willing we will return next Wednesday.
Would you pray for us?