Free The Redeemed by M.R. Hall

on stage to a thunder of applause.
Michael Turnbull was a similar age to Bobby, casually dressed and with the same
glowing countenance that radiated wholesomeness and prosperity. Lennox Strong
was an athletic black man in his late twenties. A tight T- shirt hugged his
muscled torso.
    Bobby invited each of them to give their testimonies for the
benefit of all those who still doubted the truth of God's presence. Michael
stepped forward first and told his story of being a wealthy, burnt-out
ex-businessman who felt as wretched about his life's work and his contribution
to the explosion in pornography as that great evangelist John Newton had once
done about his role in the slave trade. It was hearing Pastor Bobby DeMont,
over three years ago, that had finally opened the doors of his heart and
changed him for ever. It was Bobby who had led him to realize that, through the
Lord's infinite grace, even the most evil sinner can be made clean. He'd thrown
open the doors and God rushed in as fast as daylight flooding a darkened room.
But he hadn't let him rest easy. No, he had presented him with the biggest
challenge of his life. Not only did he charge him with raising a church in the
parched sands of a spiritual desert, he asked him to make war on pornography.
It was far more than one human being could achieve alone, but God had filled
him with joy and a sense of purpose which carried him from victory to victory.
And now the end was in sight - an earthly law to enact the law of God was only
days away from coming into existence.
    A huge cheer went up like the roar of a football crowd.
Michael Turnbull seemed to radiate benevolence as he graciously acknowledged
it and stood aside for Lennox Strong.
    The young pastor received a welcome that made even that given
to Bobby DeMont seem modest. The shrill cries of young women sounded out above
the crowd, prompting Bobby DeMont to whisper playfully in his ear. Lennox
Strong showed no hint of embarrassment at the rapturous greeting. He clasped
his hands in front of his chest and waited for quiet.
    He spoke with a pronounced Bristol accent, but with the ease
and confidence of a true professional. The son of a single teenage mother, he
was a drug abuser, a car thief and a member of a violent gang all by the time
he was thirteen. At fourteen, he was sentenced to five months in juvenile
detention for robbing a defenceless old woman at knifepoint. Far from
reforming him, his spell inside introduced him to seasoned criminals he tried
hard to impress and emulate. During the next several years he was in and out of
custody as he went on a spree of burglary, car-theft and drug dealing. On his
nineteenth birthday the police caught him carrying a gun.
    'And every day I thank God that I was arrested before I fired
that weapon in anger,' Lennox said. 'Another week and I would have to have
proved to my so-called brothers that I wasn't just a boy with a gun, but a man
who'd used one. I'll confess it openly, I had only darkness in my soul.'
    The Lord found Lennox four months after his release from
prison. He was just twenty-two, 'an angry ball of testosterone and muscle
spoiling for a fight'. It was late into a wild night when he took some cocaine
on top of alcohol and amphetamines. 'I thought I could take anything, but I
went down like a felled tree.' Lennox was rushed to hospital suffering a
series of cardiac arrests. He was resuscitated five times in the ambulance. He
couldn't recall much of the journey, but he did remember suffering the final
excruciating arrest which was to stop his heart for a full three minutes.
    'My friends, I'd never had a spiritual thought in my life. I
believed that when you died the lights went out and that was it. The lights
went out all right, but it wasn't an end. I felt myself leaving my physical
body and going down ... and down, into a blackness I can't even describe. The
further I sank, the hotter and more stifling it became. I could feel my lungs
burning.' He paused to take a