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.