When Life Is Plain Hard

My life for years to many seemed like a Cinderella fairy tale. Over the years I've had many women tell me how envious they were of my life, some have even joined our organization for a short time to get an inside glimpse of all this supposed glamour life I live. I'm an award-winning published author, speaker, certified pet therapist/dog trainer, and even a pastor. WOW!

What they don't know, unless they walk a day in my shoes, is that God has ALWAYS called me to do HARD!

As a young girl I didn't feel loved or important in my middle class family, so I ran to all the wrong things (drugs, men, topless dancing, etc). I even married an abusive alcoholic. (My choice, not God's. Again, because I was looking for love in all the wrong places.)

At 17, I accepted Jesus as my Savior, about the time my 1st husband nearly killed me. Yes, I escaped with my life and the clothes on my back. And when I met husband #2 I felt this urgency in my heart not to marry him, but he treated me good, opened the doors for me, told me I was beautiful, and he wasn't beating me around, so I shrugged off that tugging at my heart, and went ahead and married him. After 7 years I not only found out he had cheated on me, and was addicted to pornography, but he had turned his addiction onto our three children. (Again, it was my choice to marry the guy, and I believe with all my heart God tried to stop me from entering this marriage.)

At 26, this single mom of three, 7th grade drop out, decided she was going back to school, went onto college, and maintained a 4.0 and made the Dean's list. Then she went on to become an award-winning author, certified pet therapist/dog trainer, and even a pastor.

But what not many people really know is all the rejection and betrayal I faced, from everyone I loved and trusted, in the world, and even in the church for years and years.

When my 2nd husband kidnapped my kids, no one helped me get them back even though he'd molested them. Most of my family had even sided with him and my church became silent. Still I fought, and fought hard, and did the unthinkable to get them back in my custody. I had to go back with him for a short time and then take them to a shelter one day. It was hard, but I got them.

When I felt led to write, and began writing, I wasn't published for five long years. Rejection letters filled my mail box. Sometimes I wondered if I was really supposed to write, but I kept on, and finally I got accepted in one of the best magazines--Guideposts, which states is not for beginners. My writing career skyrocketed after that!
When my book came out (years later), everyone in the church thought it was too DIRTY for their kids to read, because I was a runaway who got into lots of trouble. I was kidnapped, beaten, raped, and forced into dancing and prostitution. So I was too dirty for the church, but since I was a Christian the world didn't want me either.

I was hurt and I didn't know it then, and maybe I never knew it until recently, but God has called me to do HARD. God has called my kids to do HARD, and our family to do HARD.

All four of my children had terrible obstacles they had to overcome, aside from being molested, they all have special needs, they were all abused, bullied, and faced great challenges. My daughter was labeled gay and nearly choked to death in school, my eldest son was a cutter (due to the abuse from his bio father) and had two nervous breakdowns, my youngest boy, Jeremiah, was bullied so badly he nearly committed suicide--he also nearly died from having grand mall seizures that developed in his late teens, and my son, Brian, was bullied all his life because he had Asperger's Syndrome and a rare heart condition. He was in and out of the hospital dealing with critical life threatening illnesses his whole life, yet he gave and helped others, forgave the bullies, and lived life to the fullest. Brian passed away last August, after being on the heart transplant list for five years. Yet the day after we buried him we marched in a parade in his honor to stop abuse, bullying and violence, and we've spoken at various workshops, and are now into our 5th Annual Easter Giveaway to help needy and abused families.

The road for our family has not been easy, or even glamorous as some might think. NO, the truth is God has called us to do HARD! Most of the time I don't get any money to speak and I give my books away to those who need them. And the only money that comes into our organization is the money we raise or put there ourselves. So even when everyone has turned on us, when tragedy has hit us from all sides, and we've had to stand for days, months, and years, and felt totally alone, like total outcasts, I know that even though we didn't have physical people to be right with us and walk us through these dark valleys, God has always been there. He had our backs, even in the HARD.

I know we're not the only ones who have been called to do HARD. But I just want to encourage anyone out there who is, people may let you down a million/trillion times, but God will never fail you or forsake you. I know I can't do HARD without him-- or even Easy for that matter.

God is the glue that has held this mom, this marriage, this family, and this ministry together. Even though we're broken over and over again, we cling to the hope that one day, we will be with Him, and He will wipe every tear from our eyes. He never promised that it would be easy, but he did promise that even through the HARD, he'd be with us!

My heart cries out for the many families now who are poor and abused, who are doing HARD and need our help. We help these families throughout the year, but especially at Easter. Please check out our website and prayerfully consider a gift you can give. No gift is too small. Every penny helps fight poverty and abuse. I thank you in advance for giving the best gift you can! God bless each of you even in the HARD! www.abusebites.com (click on Easter link on right).

To Donate via mail, make checks/mo Payable to: Abuse Bites, Easter Giveaway, PO BOX 1582, Owosso, MI  48867. All donations are 100% tax deductible and go to help needy and abused families (including pets!)

Sincerely,

Lisa Freeman, CEO Abuse Bites

Abuse Is Not A Dream--It's a Nightmare

My dream is for every child, teen, woman, man, and animal that’s being abused to be rescued from their nightmare of terror and hell!

Here’s my story.


Growing up abusers lived all around me. Yet my parents had no idea. There were signs. Red flags everywhere.


Most 2 year olds don’t pull all their hair out, bang their head on a hardwood floor until they pass out, and wake up with night terrors every night. But like most parents, my mom and dad were busy. They both worked full time, and I’m sure they just thought it was a phase that I’d grow out of. And I guess in a way I did. My hair eventually grew back, and I guess I didn’t have any permanent brain damage from the head banging, but the night terrors held on like a curse.


Dirty hands were touching me, (boys, men, even girls and women) forcing me to do the unthinkable. I didn’t want to do those things. Really I didn’t. But if I didn’t do what they said, I knew they would hurt me more. So I tried to take my mind to a safe place and pretend it wasn’t happening.


I couldn’t decipher reality from my dreams anymore. At night, when I did finally fall asleep, I’d wake up in a cold sweat, unable to breathe. Panic stricken, feeling like I was being suffocated, I’d wake my mom. (At twelve years old I still slept with my mom or I couldn’t sleep, and even then I woke up at least once a night.)


“It was just a bad dream,” she’d say, “go back to sleep.”


My mom wasn’t a good listener. She worked hard eight hours a day in a nursing home scrubbing and waxing floors, the old fashioned way. Exhausted and looking for a quick fix, she thought drugs were the answer.


“Here, take these,” she said, giving me a couple pills. “The doctor said this will help you sleep.”


After taking the pills I was out cold. When I woke up it was dark and everyone was up. I was confused. Was it morning already? I found out it was the next night and everyone was getting ready for bed again. Now I was wide awake.


I had already missed a ton of school because I had mononucleosis every other week it seemed. Not that I minded. Being at home was better than being bullied and made fun of at school. So one night, instead of giving me the pills, when I woke up afraid, my mom actually sat up with me and read something in the Bible. I honestly don’t remember what it was, but I do remember I was able to sleep after that, better than I had with the pills and I woke up in time for school.


Finally I decided maybe if I acted tougher, kids would leave me alone. So although terrified, and begging that I would not see blood, I got into a fight with this boy who thought he was all that and I actually won. That day I became the class hero, everyone thought I was cool, and pretty much left me alone. Still the abuse in the hood continued. There was always a bigger bully moving in, and I was still terrified to fight back or tell.


My mom probably wouldn’t listen anyways. She always tended to blame things on me or call me a slut. All I wanted was her love, so I stayed still. Even when I went up the street to babysit and the woman’s husband came home early and made me do detestable things I said nothing.


He’d be buzzed out of his mind and put his hands and lips all over me. I can still taste the sour beer and cigarettes. YUCK! I begged him to stop, told him “NO!” and pushed him away, but he wouldn’t let me go until he finished. By that time it would be pitch black outside and no one would be awake when I got home. I locked the door and took a steaming hot shower, drowning in my own tears, fearing all the while he was going to break in and do it all over again.


I knew it was my fault though, because I kept going back up there, every time his wife called. Strange, but when she called, all I thought about was making money and doing her a favor so she could get away for awhile, not the abuse I’d suffer, or the fact that her husband could come home early. I wanted out, but there didn’t seem to be a way out, so I learned to just take myself to that safe place and keep quiet.


That’s why when I met my boyfriend at 13, and he said he loved me and would protect me, I thought my dreams had finally come true. It’s what I’d wanted all my life anyway—love—true love. Since he was four years older, and we went to different schools, we started cutting class to be together. Soon the courts got involved, put me on house arrest for truancy, and forbid us to see each other.


We sent love letters secretly through the mail. I’d watch through the living room window every night as he dropped a letter off and took the one I wrote for him. One day we agreed to meet on the back road.
“Let’s just run away,” he said staring into my eyes. “We can hitchhike and leave town right now.”


I was scared and excited at the same time. It sounded like the perfect plan. Now no one could stop us from being together.


Our dream of being together, turned out to be another one of my nightmares. Not only was I more abused out there (kidnapped, beaten, raped, forced into dancing and prostitution) and wanted to come home numerous times, but he turned on me too and began drinking and beating me. He said he was sorry, with real tears in his eyes, swore he’d never do it again, and sadly I believed him. I thought his jealousy meant that he loved me. WRONG!


That’s why I wrote my book “Run For Your Life” based on my true story of dating violence, not so I can get rich and famous, but so I can reach out to others who may be in dangerous relationships, to show them that they don’t have to put up with it, and that they need to get out before it’s too late. I almost didn’t make it out alive. In fact he nearly killed me.


Abuse is a nightmare! My dream is to save other people lives. Please help me by passing this story on, ordering the book for you or a friend, or donate into this organization so we can give books to those who need them! www.runtolife.org