This was our final rally on Friday night, July 20th, 2006.  After we had been disinvited from the Church that graciously opened its doors to O.S.A., we preached in the open air at Smith Park.  Our removal from the Church was a work from God Himself!  He thrust us out of the closet that our theology might become biography in the streets.  We never would have had this opportunity to witness to the anarchists if we had remained in the church building.  God was orchestrating our every step.

Our only problem was that the anarchists (about twenty of them) began disrupting our service before it began.  They were simulating sex acts, gyrating and doing all sorts of lewd and vulgar things in front of our kids.  Frankly, I did not know what to do.

I prayed that God would somehow make out of this despicable mess something beautiful. 

Five minutes later, the fathers and their sons began to get up on a little precipice about three feet from the stage where all hell was breaking loose and they (about fifty of them) lined the entire stage area.  God was in charge and He sure didn't need my help.  No one now could see the degradation taking place on stage.  Brother Butch, began leading us in some powerful praise, prayer, and worship.  The tone of the entire meeting was beginning to change. 

The Spirit of the Lord began to pierce the darkness of their (the precious yet fatherless) anarchist's empty souls.  One of our girls from New Orleans got up and shared her testimony:  "Hi!  My name is Cleopatra.  I was a stripper in New Orleans.  I've done more drugs, been lost in lesbianism, done worse things than any of you could imagine.  I was once where you are and I wish I had someone tell me what I am sharing with you today.  Jesus is the only One who could have dug me out of the pit I was in.  He did it and I am now drug free, free from sexual addiction, free to be a woman of God.  He has filled my empty heart with His joy."

By this time all of the anarchists were sitting in rapt attention listening to Cleo's testimony.  "Hi!  I'm Cleopatra's mom.  I wasn't at all the mother I should have been to my daughter.  I did drugs too, and left little Cleopatra to raise herself pretty much.  I was so wrong, but Jesus, in spite of my rotten drug filled self, saved me so that I might share this hope I have in my heart with you.  Jesus can set you free!"

God was moving and we were witnessing a miracle before our very eyes!  I asked the Jackson City Police, who had come to remove the anarchists from the stage, to please leave them alone.  They were listening to every word. 

The next one to speak was Sarah (18 years old) from New Orleans.  She shared about how she had almost been aborted and how her mother pleaded with the doctor to let her live.  She shared about her own life, the one that nobody wanted, and brought tears to the eyes of all of us.  Jesus wanted and loved her and had a purpose for her life.  Part of that purpose was to share her testimony this night that some might be saved.

Pastor Dale shared he was a rebellious boy that no one wanted-not even his dad.  He was out in the streets at 16, eating out of garbage cans, and living under bridges.  No one wanted to make eye contact with him because he was nothing.  He felt he was nothing and that nothing mattered.  Jesus came into this "nothing's" life and made him something.

Brother Butch had moved his "Mean Green Feeding Machine" bus to the side of Smith Park where we were meeting and prepared taco salad for all of us.  We invited all of the kids (anarchists) to stay and join us for supper after the service.  They stayed.  We ate, we fellowshipped, we shared our testimonies, we witnessed for our Lord.

They found that those whom they thought were their worst enemies were truly the best friends they could ever have.