I Wanted To Change, But How?

I remembered saying this one time prayer in the fifth grade at a school release program to accept Jesus into my heart. I prayed the words, I wanted it to be real, but it never felt real to me. 

I wasn’t new and different like they said I would be. I felt exactly the same, having the same shameful feelings from all of those boys and men in our neighborhood who had put their hands and bodies all over me. I didn’t feel loved and accepted. I felt dirty and like God was angry with me and could never accept me. 

Inside I wanted to do right, but it seems I always did wrong. I wanted to share the secrets that had been bottled up inside me since I was a small little girl, but I knew no one would believe me and they’d probably even blame me for it, since I hadn't stopped those guys from doing all those evil things.  

At 13 I ran away with my boyfriend to try to escape the evil things. I remember our first night together, it was winter and I was freezing cold and exhausted from walking through town and after town, no ride, no shelter. 

I cried. I wanted to go home. But he threatened that if I went home, I’d be locked up in a girl’s institution (like the judge had said), and we’d never see each other again. 

So I stayed through it all, even his drunken beatings. I guess in part I was thinking I had no other choice, or that I deserved it, but I always held out hope that since this guy swore he loved me, that I somehow had this special power to change him.

I finally realized after marrying him at 16, when he nearly beat me to death, that I couldn’t change him.

The truth is, I can’t change anybody else. I can only change me. 

But at that time I didn’t know how to change me. My life was hopeless. I knew I couldn’t live with him, but I didn’t think I could live without him either. So I kept going back like a yo-yo dangling on a string.

  

Thankfully God heard my hearts cry and intervened. 

My husband left to go see his family for two weeks. Normally he'd make me go with him, but he gave me a choice. Of course I said no. Who would want to be around a houseful of drunken, abusive, maniacs for that long?

I was afraid of being alone, yet I stayed there in that big empty house all by myself. After all the abuse I suffered, I couldn’t sleep nights, as I was terrified someone was going to break in and kill me. 

My life revolved around fear. I had no peace. The only time I could get a couple hours of rest was in the morning after the sun came up.

Little did I know all of that was about to change. In fact, my whole life, as I knew it, was about to change.

After a few days of partying and sleeping with anyone just so I wouldn't be alone, I felt more empty and lonely than ever. But even worse, our phone wasn't working. So I hurried over to our neighbors to call the phone company.

But our neighbor didn’t answer her door, another lady did. She said she had heard all about me and invited me in. I could only guess what she had heard! But still I made the call. Busy. As I sat there waiting for the line to clear, this lady began telling me about her life. That she had runaway with her older boyfriend too, and had done many of things I did, but there was something different about her. She had a beautiful smile, a radiant glow, an excitement and fire in her voice, a this amazing peace about her.

The more she talked, I wanted what she had.

She began to tell me how she got FREE. How she met a man named Jesus and how he came into her heart and changed her whole life and took all her fears away. 

When I left she said she’d be glad to talk or pray with me at any time.  So I went home to clean my house and I couldn’t stop thinking about her or what she said. Finally I got up the courage to go back over and ask her to pray with me.

As she sat in my living room next to me praying, suddenly I couldn’t hear her. My ears were completely plugged. I began saying, “I can’t hear you.” My eyes even got really blurry and weird and I started freaking out. So she began shouting, “Say in the name of Jesus! In the name of Jesus! In the name of Jesus!” 

So I started shouting it with her, “In the name of Jesus! In the name of Jesus! In the name of Jesus!” and pretty soon it was like something shot out of my ears and I could hear and see better than I ever had. For once I felt clean and had a peace I’d never known. I wanted everyone to find Jesus and experience this.

Maybe you, like me, have lived in abuse and fear all your life and you need/want a change? Jesus will do the same thing for you as he did for me. We can't change others or even our pasts, but we can change our future. Won't you call out to Jesus today? He'll listen, come into your heart, and be there for you. But you have to be the one to say the prayer and believe.

Jesus was there in 5th grade when I made that prayer, but I didn't let him change me. I didn't know how. At 17, when I prayed the second time, I was ready for change, I was sick of living that miserable life. And today, since I embraced Jesus and his life changing power, my life is amazing!

CHANGE begins with you!

I would love to pray with you or send you a copy of my book "Run For Your Life" about my true life story. So please email me @ abusebites(at)gmail.com and let me know that this blog has touched your heart and you want CHANGE!

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

Don't Buy The Lie

Seems like since I was a little girl, I was being fed one lie after another.

It started with Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny, but then more harmful dangerous lies came into play.

My brothers older friends, neighborhood boys/men, and even some of my friends from school did unspeakable acts I was sworn not to tell. “It will be our little secret,” they’d say. I wanted to tell my mom, but I was too ashamed and I was scared. I thought she’d probably blame me anyway. And many of my abusers had threatened me. What if their threats were true?

So I bought the lie. The lie that I had to stay in abusive relationships. The lie that no one would ever want me. The lie that no one would love me. The lie that I would have to settle for whoever came along.

All my life I bought the lie of abuse. 

My alcoholic husband dropped to his knees and wept over my battered body, “I’m sorry. I promise if you stay I’ll never hurt you again.”

Sadly, I bought the lie again and again until he almost killed me. And even after I left him, I still kept buying the lies of abuse.

My 2^nd husband, who went to church faithfully, swore a million times that he’d never look at pornography or cheat on me on me again. 

I bought the lie time and time again and stayed with him for seven painful years until I learned he sexually abused our three children. That's when I began seeking the truth, and the truth set me free!

Don’t buy the lie! Don’t settle for abuse! 

I know it's hard to break free. I didn’t even start getting my life together until the age of 26. I hadn’t even finished high school, let alone junior high. I had dropped out in the 7th grade. Yet, a single mother of three, I went back to school, got my GED, went onto college, maintained a 4.0, and made the Dean’s List. Later, after battling severe panic attacks and agoraphobia, I graduated from Vision International with a degree in Christian Ministry, became an Award-Winning Christian Author, Certified Pet Therapist/Dog Trainer, and started two non-profit organizations A Time To Heal and Abuse Bites to break the cycle of abuse and help others heal.

Abuse is a choice. You can be a victim or you can be a survivor. I was a victim far too long. Today I’m a survivor, because I stopped buying the lie. I pray that you do too! You deserve better. It's the truth that sets us free!

If you or someone you know is stuck in the cycle of abuse and needs help please call 9-1-1 or the national domestic abuse hotline @ 1-800-799-SAFE. You may also contact me. I’d love to help in any way I can.

We offer workshops to educate, prevent, and bring awareness on all types of abuse and bullying in the school, work place and community. We’d be honored to work with you to bring our program to your area! http://www.abusebites.com.

STOP ABUSE

S- Slow down and think about the choices you're making.

T- Turn from any and all abuse patterns or lifestyles you've been living.

O- Open up to someone and tell them what's going on.

P- Plan a way of escape or to break the cycle of abuse off your life.


A- Act on that plan by taking the necessary steps.

B- Band with others so you're not alone.

U- Use all resources in your community that are available to you.

S- Seek counseling.

E- Escape before it's too late.

Any Questions? I'd be happy to chat with you of how I got out of the abuse cycle. Email me directly @ lisafreelife@gmail.com or check out my websites http://www.abusebites.com & http://www.runtolife.org & htttp://www.atime2heal.org

1 Corinthians 5:11 NCV

I am writing to tell you that you must not associate with those who call themselves believers in Christ but who sin sexually, or are greedy, or worship idols, or abuse others with words, or get drunk, or cheat people. Do not even eat with people like that.

Homeless Not Hopeless

In Honor Of National Homeless Awareness Month

With such trying times in the US, the crashing economy, and bullying & abuse at every avenue--there are probably more homeless people than many of us know.

I've been homeless at various times. Once by choice, as a teen when I ran away with an older boyfriend. For two years we hitchhiked all over the US with nothing but the clothes on our backs. I was starving, frozen, beaten, raped, kidnapped, and nearly killed. The only thing that saved me every time, was prayer and faith in God to set me free.

Later in life I was married to an abusive man who turned his porn addiction onto our three children. I was forced to leave my home, with just a suitcase and three small children. For over a month we stayed at a "safe house shelter" for victims of abuse.

Staying at shelters isn't easy. I totally agree. But it's better than putting you or yourself in harms way. It's totally better than being homeless. It's a roof over your head, a meal in your stomach, and a chance to sort things out while you decide what is best for you/ and or your children.

After two terribly abusive marriages, I got my life back together. I suffered years of panic attacks and fears, but have managed to become an award-winning author and speaker.

If I can do it, you can too. Today, I'm an abuse survivor. You don't have to be a victim, you can survive too. If you need help or to get out of an abusive situation, please get help. You can either log onto my website http://www.abusebites.com/ or call 1-800-799-SAFE.

Most Shelters Provide:

-A SAFE PLACE TO STAY
-Beds for you & your child
-Dresser for your clothes
-Food
-Clothes
-Baby Needs
-Hygiene Products
-Support & Counseling
-Assistance With Child Care

*So don't hesitate. If you're in an abusive situation GET OUT BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE!