He didn’t bother to fight knowing he had no way to conquer them all alone. The smell of the soil and the sweaty musk of his attackers made him nause...us. He vomited as he was violated. He felt as though he was being torn apart with a rolling iron. The counterparts were taunting him. He felt several kicks and jabs as he was beaten. The humilitation was almost intolerable. Who would know what happened unless he told. He never would. He tried so hard to faint, hoping that the Lord would somehow. What they couldn’t deny though, was that in just a few months he had taken a tiny handful of semi-attending kids and grown the group into one of the largest youth programs in their side of town. He introduced community projects, out-of-town trips (all paid for by aggressive fund-raising drives), and a music program that included a choir and a praise band. This growth spilled over into the church as a whole, and if there was one thing that made Baptists happy, it was a full church (with plenty. More

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