When the Enemy Comes: The Shocking Truth

Preface

ARE YOU READY FOR:

When the Enemy Comes?

Are your problems too overwhelming? Is your life is in a turmoil? Maybe divorce is staring you in the face, or your job looks bleak, or you feel like everyone is picking on you, bankruptcy is on the horizon, your children are out of control, or a disease is invading your body? Are you tormented by guilt, do your thoughts haunt you day and night, like flies on honey? What if you were backed into a corner and are viciously attacked by a human or an animal.

You have no one to help or protect you!

Or, do you?

Are you depressed? Are you controlled by anxiety or fear? Did they come upon you like a thief in the night? Yes, without warning! They have overtaken you; you try to escape. You crawl into a deep hole within yourself, trying to hide, trying to get away, but the force within you keeps whipping you to and fro like a mighty hurricane. Why you? What is happening? You have lost control!

There is no way to escape!

Or, is there?

Does worry have a stronghold on you? Do you worry about your children, what if someone hurt or kidnapped them, where is their protection when you are not there?

They have no protection!

Or do they?

Contents

Preface

Introduction

Dedication

A Stranger in Our House

Learning the Hard Way

Provoke a Child

Determined To Fit in

Naughty or Nice

God Sent Someone

The Rich Man

Why Some Have More

What You Think, You Are!

Why Some Have Less

Is Everyone the Same?

We Can Be Our Worst enemy

Worrying

The Spirit of Doubt

The Prophet

Problems

What You Say You Get

Earth Our Training Field

The Best Problem Solver

Faith

Negative Thoughts & Dreams

Trusting God

God Plants His Seed

How to Pray

Healed With Prayer

God Hears Children’s Prayers

Are Children Tempted

Are Christians Tempted?

Your Body Is A Holy Temple

Losing Control

Your Two-Edged sword

Is the Devil On Earth Today?

The Devil’s Snare

Fear in Telling Children the Truth

Self-Defense Weapon

Preparing for Battle

Bad Spirits

Who is Your Leader?

Questioning God

Why Repent?

God Sent an Angel

Attacked by the Devil

God Uses Us

Is There Life After Death?

Born Again

Baptized With the Holy Spirit

Guardian Angels

Protected By His Wings

God Shines His Light

Which Gate Have You Chosen?

Conclusion:

The Way, the Truth & the light

To All Of You

Introduction

I felt a need deep inside myself to write this book and share my story and experiences to help and protect others.

I felt like my life was a losing battle from child hood to adult hood. I was attacked over and over again. I had no help, no one to turn to and no way to escape. I felt as if I was thrown into the bottom of a pit that was full of debris. For years I tried to dig myself back up out of the rubble, and as soon as I found my way to the top, I was kicked back down again, and again, many, many times.

I was at my wits’ end. I struggled and struggled with all my might to overcome my enemies that were closing in on me, attacking me all at once, pushing, shoving and forcing me back down.

With many years of worry, torment, hurt, fear and grief, I decided I’d had enough.

I fought with all my might and when I finally reached the surface, I realized I had found a gold mine, and now, I want to give everyone a share.

I want to acknowledge and thank my husband, Larry, my best friend, my inspiration and the love of my life.

I know without a doubt, that when I was having a difficult time, God intervened and sent me someone special, kind, gentle, and caring. I thank God many times over for sending him.

I thank you Larry for always being there, not only for me but also for our kids. I also thank you for the many nights you sat alone watching TV, while I sat in front of the computer writing this book, never complaining, but encouraging me to go on.

Dedication

I dedicate this book to:

My husband, Larry Fischer

My children: Dena Aldridge, Doug & Sandye DeBerti, Lance & Mayra Fischer & Lisa Kinn.

My mother & dad: Rose & George Vidrich.

My grandchildren: Mandy Buoni, Maverick & Cody Richardson, Kaylee Aldridge, Shane & Bradley DeBerti, Karlie & Katelyn Kinn, Montana Fischer & all to come.

My great grandchildren: Aiden & Marae Buoni & all to come.

My sister’s: Rose Marie & husband John Ralph & family & deceased sister Diane Weir.

My brother: Tony  Rebich (Butch) & wife Sherry & family.

My aunts, uncles, nephews, nieces, cousins & families.

I only hope with all my heart that everyone that is near and dear to me and everyone that reads this book will experience all the good things God has done for me, and will pass their experiences with God on to others.

I realize that life is a challenge, and I thank God that He allowed me to experience things in my life, no matter how difficult they were, to teach me to learn to trust Him, and to overcome, and conquer doubt, which enabled me to get closer to Him, and to do His will, by telling my story to help others.

A Stranger in Our House

The bitter cold burned against my skin as I watched the landlord pave a path to the door of the ice-cream parlor, which sat directly under the apartment we rented. It was freezing cold outside but the apartment was warm, cozy, calm and peaceful.

My sister Rose Marie and brother Anthony, we called him Butch, were awakened each morning by the aroma of different flavors of ice cream that seemed to find their way through the vents in our bedroom floors.

When evening fell, the brightly lit pink & green neon lights from the parlor automatically turned on. It was as if they had a beat of their own as they danced across my bedroom window. I watched as they blinked off and on, off and on, until I finally fell asleep.

It was awesome living on top of the parlor, because everyone that visited would treat us to our choice of ice cream. Our home was every kid’s dream!

I remember spinning around and around on the pink leather swivel chair, patiently waiting and watching the guy in the funny green hat, scooping large mounds of ice cream into fancy dishes and cones. He looked like Howdy-Doody with his wide smile and freckles that trickled down his nose.

One night while lying in bed, I couldn’t believe my ears, when I over heard my parents talking about moving so we could be within walking distance to a school.

There was never a mention of moving for a long time after that. Then it happened! My dad came home from work early one day smiling like a Cheshire cat, while telling my mother that he found us the perfect home and it was close to a school. My heart skipped a beat as I held back tears. I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else! My mother was so excited she couldn’t pile us into the car quick enough.

On the way there, they were talking so fast you could hardly get a word in edge ways. My dad was explaining to my mom that there were two houses on the property and the smaller one was a rental, which would help pay the mortgage.

It seemed to take forever to get there and the entire way I stared out the window with tear filled eyes, trying to envision living somewhere else. It just wouldn’t be the same!

When we finally arrived, there was a mad rush to get out of the car.  We all three ran up the cement stairs and waited patiently while my dad struggled with the key and as soon as the door opened, we squeezed past him and ran from room to room and then out the back door.

There were pretty yellow rose bushes surrounding the yard and the grass was so perfectly cut it looked like a gigantic green carpet. It was so inviting, I quickly kicked off my shoes and ran through it.

Seeing our new home really was more exciting than I had imagined! What was most exciting was not only did both of our grandmothers and aunts and uncles all live close by, but we were within walking distance to the Columbia Gardens, which was a replica of a mini Disney Land. Going to the Columbia Gardens was so much fun, it didn’t take long to forget about the apartment and the ice-cream parlor.

Almost every day my grandmother on my mother’s side would come to visit. She was kind and gentle. She played with us and took special care if we were sick. I could remember her singing to me as she rubbed my back; it seemed to take away any stomachache.

It wasn’t long after we moved into our new home, when our world shattered and came to a halt, when we learned that she had kidney cancer and didn’t have long to live.

When she passed away, my heart ached and I wanted God to give her back. With tears streaming down my face I watched with my fingers crossed as her sister sprinkled her with Holy Water trying to revive her. It didn’t work!

Everyone was grieving and trying to cope and live a normal life afterwards, when all of a sudden, it was like all hell broke loose, right in the middle of our brand new home.

There was a bar only two blocks away which our dad began to frequent. The bad thing was, that he not only started drinking, he also started gambling.

I never remembered our parents fighting before, so the first time we heard and watched them fight, was frightening.

On Fridays, he didn’t come home from work until three o’clock in the morning, drunk out of his mind. Many of those Fridays, we were awakened from a dead sleep and would lie in bed, cringing, listening to my dad and mother’s vulgar and cutting words as they flew back and forth between them like flying daggers.

My mother was not only furious because he came home late and drunk, she was upset because he didn’t eat the dinner she took all day to prepare and to top it off, he was completely broke. He would spend his entire paycheck gambling. There was never enough money left to buy groceries or pay the bills.

Each time he drank, he worsened! At first, he started shoving her around, while threatening to kill her. She became so afraid of him she would leave! We were afraid also, but many times, were left behind. The first time she left, the three of us clung together, crying hysterically in fear, as we watched my dad rip her clothes out of the closet, throw them onto the floor and spit on them.

One Friday, about three o’clock in the morning, we were awakened by the shrill screams of our mother’s voice begging for help. My dad had her by the collar and was trying to shove her head through the bedroom window. It was like watching a horror movie! We thought he was going to kill her. Shaking uncontrollably, I watched as he let go of her collar and grabbed her by the hair and slammed her head into the window as hard as he could. It was unbearable to hear the dreadful sound of my mother’s skull crashing against the window. Glass shattered everywhere, leaving a huge void. Snow was blowing in from the broken window and through the moon lit room we could see the frantic look in our mother’s eyes as blood trickled down over her face and onto her clothes. He didn’t quit! He held tight to her hair, shoving her through the house all the while yelling, You are dead meat. She kept screaming and we were frantic! She somehow broke loose from his grip, and ran as fast as her feet could carry her, right out the door. We all three stood there in shock, shaking so hard you could hear our teeth rattle.

My dad left, and the cops came! He returned a couple of days later, with his, I’m sorry plea and promising never to do it again. Nothing changed! Our beautiful new home became the house of horror!

Another Friday night, my sister and I we were quickly awakened from a dead sleep by someone throwing huge boards on top of us. At first I didn’t know what was happening. I thought a stranger entered our house. Then I saw that it was our dad! He was literally ripping off the doors of the closest he had just built, barehanded, and was throwing them on top us as we slept. I was scared to death and my heart was beating so loud and fast from fright, it was a wonder I didn’t have a heart attack.

As soon as he tore down the last closet door, he headed for the kitchen. My sister and I were petrified as we peeked around the corner, so he couldn’t see us, and watched, while he also violently ripped down all the kitchen cupboard doors.

My mother was nowhere to be seen! We were there all alone with him again!

As soon as he tore down the last cupboard door, he put his hand behind the dishes and started shoving them onto the floor, all the while cursing. Dishes were flying in every direction and shattering into millions of pieces as they hit the counter top and then the floor. He then threw food and silverware everywhere. Everything that was once in the drawers and cupboards was now all over the top of the cupboards, on the floor, all over the walls, curtains and windows. Then he left! We thought! When all of a sudden he came back through the door like a streak of lightning, cursing and, stomping through the house, taking the largest steps he could. He acted like he couldn’t get back in quickly enough to finish the job. Then I noticed, he had an ax in his hand; I just knew we were dead. I thought he was going to chop our heads off.

He was like an uncontrollable, violent madman or a vicious animal that hadn’t eaten in months and had just broken out of its cage, ready to devour anything in its path. He had completely lost control and was unrecognizable! His face was beet red and he had a vicious look in his eyes. He held his lips so taut they turned purple. His face looked so wicked you would think he had transformed into the devil.

We watched, shaking, and crying, scared out of our wits, as he headed for the bedroom. He grabbed a hold of the curtains and yanked them to the floor. He then took the ax and violently started chopping the legs off of his bed. As soon as he chopped off one leg, he removed his shirt, took off his shoes and exhaustedly fell onto the broken bed and went sound asleep, as if nothing happened. We stood there frozen in fear, unable to move, as we watched him sleep. What we had just witnessed was too much for anyone to handle, let alone children.

A short time later, the cops arrived and couldn’t believe the way he ruined and wrecked our house. They were upset and disgusted with him for what he did. The three of them marched into the bedroom where he was sleeping on the broken bed and one of them yelled at the top of his lungs, right into his disgustingly drunk, sleeping face, Get up and get dressed!

He was sound asleep, but was startled by the loud angry voice of the officer. While in a daze, he immediately jumped to his feet! For a minute he couldn’t figure out what was going on, but the officer quickly brought him to his senses as he read him his rights. They handcuffed him, gave him a shove out the door and took him off to jail for about the hundredth time.

Drinking made my dad crazy and we didn’t know what he was going to do next. He was unpredictable and we were scared to death of him and It didn’t matter how many times he went to jail nothing stopped his behavior.

I didn’t know at the time what possessed my dad to act this way. All I know is that I was scared to death of him and didn’t want him to come home from work and I didn’t want to come home after school. It was hard to concentrate in school, because my mind was always on the things that went on at home.

What was really strange, was when my dad was sober, he was a completely different person, but just the thought of what he would do when he was drunk was upsetting enough to make me cringe, just to be in his presence.

I dreaded the sound of the school bell at the end of the day. I would walk home extra slow and take the long way.

Their fighting was taking a toll on me and I became so nervous I couldn’t eat. Every time I heard the key in the lock, I would immediately get cramps in my stomach. I was afraid of him and afraid that they were going to fight and he would kill us, or my mother. I was more afraid about my parents fighting than I was about him hitting me to eat.

I dreaded dinnertime, because my dad would make it a point to sit right next to me, watching me like a hawk. When he saw that I wasn’t eating, he would take his fork and continually strike me over my fingers and with each blow he would say, Eat! I had no choice but to choke down every last bit of food. This happened every time he was at home; even when he wasn’t drinking he was mad because I failed to eat. He didn’t realize he was the cause.

Almost every night, right after dinner, I was sent to bed for not eating while my brother and sister went out to play. I would cry myself to sleep holding hurting and very bruised knuckles,

Deep inside I knew my dad didn’t like me! Then one day, it was confirmed when I over heard my mother telling one of her friends that my dad didn’t like me because I looked like her. It hurt way down deep inside. I felt like someone stabbed me in the heart with a very sharp knife. Even though I thought he didn’t like me, it hurt worse to hear someone say it. I thought I would die! Feeling sad and unwanted, I cried for hours. I didn’t want my dad touching me after that and could hardly look him in the eyes!

My mother couldn’t stand my dad hitting my fingers, and as soon as he hit me, there was another fight. Almost every day they found something to fight about.

I got to the point where I couldn’t even stand the smell of food, let alone eat it. I could remember sitting at the table for hours with a bowl of very cold, lumpy and slimy Cream of Wheat cereal that would gag me and sometimes I would literally throw up. My mother insisted that I eat all of it even if I had to sit there, the entire night

One day I wizened up! I sneakily took my food off my plate and slid it into my pockets when no one was looking. I don’t know how I managed because not only was my dad constantly watching me, I had to sneak it past my mother, sister, and brother. The hard part was getting the cream of wheat into my pocket, but somehow I managed to get in there.

At night I would wait for everyone to fall asleep, especially my sister, who I slept with, and then I would slowly slip out of bed, tip toe to the door which lead to the porch, and while being as quiet as a church mouse, I unlocked the latch, and then turned the doorknob, inch by inch, so no one could hear me. Then I opened the door and quickly unloaded the food from my pockets and threw it into a far corner of the porch closet. It was a junk closet no one ever used, so I never expected anyone to ever look in there. I became the world’s best sneak.

I only wish I had been wise enough to throw the food down the toilet instead of hiding it in the closet. I didn’t realize it would rot, ferment and start to smell.

My eating habits worsened, I was down to eating practically nothing. I was losing weight dramatically and was getting severe stomachaches. I was as pale as a ghost and so skinny you would think I had bulimia. My parents couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me.

I never got my fingers hit at the dinner table anymore and I really thought I was getting away with something until one day my mother decided to take me to our family doctor for a check-up.

The doctor came back into the room after the nurse took blood and scheduled me to have exploratory surgery to see what was causing me to lose weight and have cramps in my stomach.

After surgery, the only thing they found was that I had a bad case of malnutrition. I have a scar about ten inches long starting at my naval down, to remind me of it. I could remember hurting so badly after the surgery, I couldn’t walk, lie down, cough, or sneeze. I thought I was going to die.

The doctor prescribed weekly shots to restore my appetite. It wasn’t too long afterwards, that the shots kicked in and I began to eat.

Just as I was on the road to recovery, my sister decided she wanted a bedroom of her own. She asked if she could make the porch into a bedroom. I immediately went into a panic attack and my whole body went numb with fear when my mom said, Okay.

I watched scared out of my wits as my sister scrubbed the porch floor. I knew she was going to clean the closet next! As soon as she finished mopping she opened the closet door, and with her nose quenched up, she turned to my mother and said, What is that smell? I was scared to death of what she was about to find hidden in that closet. My mom then put her nose into the closet and said, it smells like a mouse got trapped in there and died." I just cringed with fear and was shaking as I watched my sister pull everything out of the closet. Then, there it was, for the whole wide world to see; a big mound of uneaten fermented and rotten food! She found my stash! All the food I had hidden in the closet for all those months.

My mother was furious! She yelled to the top of her lungs, as loud as she could to make sure I heard her, in a very angry and disgusted voice that rang throughout the whole house and through my entire body, No wonder she has malnutrition!

She proceeded to invite the entire family in to take a look at the evidence. I felt like a criminal that just murdered someone. Then she came after me. Did I ever get it! I was in double trouble. From that day on I was on dinner watch.

It seemed like I was always in trouble, but I always felt wanted at my aunts and uncles house, but that quickly came to a halt! One day while there one of my aunts decided to clean out a huge cardboard box full of her belongings. It was so much fun because what she didn’t want she took turns giving to each of us, make-up, jewelry, scarves, purses, notebooks, pens, and etc. We could hardly wait our turn! It was fun trying on the lipstick, necklaces and bracelets.

In the middle of sorting her things she had to use the bathroom and said she would be right back. She gave us so much stuff It was getting difficult to hold, so while she was gone I tried to make a pouch in my dress to hold everything and while doing so, some of the things she already gave me accidentally fell back into the box. I placed every thing she already gave me on a chair and scooted down into the box to retrieve the things that fell back in. When she came back into the room she saw me taking things out of the box, and immediately became furious. She didn’t bother to ask me what I was doing. She grabbed hold of my arm, jerked me up out of the box like a rag doll and flung me into the air and started shaking me uncontrollably, calling me a thief. She was yelling as loud as she could right in my face, as if I couldn’t hear her, Who told you could take my things?

I was crying so hard I thought I would burst. She took back everything she gave me and gave it to my brother and sister and told me I was a thief and thieves didn’t deserve anything. She shoved me into a corner and warned me that I better not move until my mother came. It seemed like hours before she arrived and I cried the entire time. I wasn’t only crying because she hurt my arm, shook me and took everything away from me, I cried because she was calling me a thief, and it wasn’t true. It hurt so deep inside of my heart and it felt as though I was being stabbed with a very dull knife.

She then proceeded to tell the rest of my aunts and uncles what I did and that I was a thief. They had no sympathy! They just looked at me with disgust! No one came to my rescue!

When my mother arrived and saw me in the corner crying, she asked, What happened? Before I could even tell her, my aunt butted in and told her I was trying to steal from her. She said I was a little thief and she had better watch me. I was branded for life! I got a good slap and a good chewing out from my mother. I was so hurt I cried the entire way home.

Whenever I went to my aunts and uncle’s house after that, she made sure I didn’t go into a room by myself, and if I did, I would hear her whisper, You better watch her! They didn’t think I heard what she was saying, but I heard every piercing word. Each time I heard those words, it was as if someone was shaking me and slapping me all over again. She never let me forget that I was now considered a thief. I was hurt and felt embarrassed for nothing. If only I would have had a chance to explain.

I didn’t know how to be happy or even how to make myself smile. There was absolutely nothing in my life to smile about. This behavior was making both of my parents more furious with me than they were over my eating habits.

One day one of my mother’s friends was complaining because she was getting laugh lines. I knew I would never have to worry about laugh lines when I grew older, because I never laughed.

My dad was trying to make amends