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    Walking Down a Street Named Grace
    Walking Down a Street Named Grace
    Walking Down a Street Named Grace
    Ebook91 pages1 hour

    Walking Down a Street Named Grace

    By Lora Liles

    ()

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    About this ebook

    This book was based on the true story of a woman who found her way to life on the streets, through drugs and alcohol, and back again, transformed by the love of God and an active program of recovery.

    This is one womans story of redemption in which she overcomes the addictions of her heart by placing her trust, future, and hope faithfully in Jesus Christ. From lost to saved, from legalistic acts of worship to a loving relationship and trust in the Lord, true repentance and true forgiveness of her own personal sins led her out of the destructive and broken life of drugs, homelessness, love in all the wrong places. Out of the darkness of this world she finds light in the arms of Gods grace and mercy. Sharing her testimony in these chapters, she seeks to offer faith and truth as well as hope for a life lived day by day not perfectly but perfectly saved by a God who Is, Was, and always will Be exactly what all of our hearts most crave. Ashley Young

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherWestBow Press
    Release dateJul 12, 2013
    ISBN9781449798840
    Walking Down a Street Named Grace
    Author

    Lora Liles

    I’m a longtime resident of Chattanooga, Tennessee, married to my sweet husband, Verlon Liles, and between us we have four children and one daughter-in-law. I’m a member of Dallas Bay Baptist Church and sing in the choir. Because of God, my life has been transformed forever. Also see "Walking Down a Street Named Grace" on Facebook for a more personal touch from the author.

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      Book preview

      Walking Down a Street Named Grace - Lora Liles

      Walking Down a

      Street Named Grace

      (Based on a true story)

      Lora Liles

      westbow.png

      Copyright © 2013 Lora Liles.

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

      Scripture taken from the New King James Version. Copyright 1979, 1980, 1982 by Thomas Nelson, inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

      WestBow Press books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

      WestBow Press

      A Division of Thomas Nelson

      1663 Liberty Drive

      Bloomington, IN 47403

      www.westbowpress.com

      1-(866) 928-1240

      Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

      Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

      Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

      ISBN: 978-1-4497-9885-7 (sc)

      ISBN: 978-1-4497-9886-4 (hc)

      ISBN: 978-1-4497-9884-0 (e)

      Library of Congress Control Number: 2013911158

      WestBow Press rev. date: 7/5/2013

      Contents

      1.   Seven more Years of Self-Destruction (What it was like and how it started)

      2.   Glimpses of God (When God showed up and right on time)

      3.   It’s A Boy (When earthly love is not enough)

      4.   The Salvage Yard (Resigned—The Last Year of Seven)

      5.   A Cry, God help me! (The beginning of transformation)

      6.   The New Life (A noble attempt and disobedience)

      7.   Crying and Screaming doesn’t Help (a journey into relapse)

      8.   Ok, God! Here I Am (Into submission)

      9.   Grace, at Last (True living in the Grace of God)

      10.   The Journey Laid Out (Continuing a life in the grace of God)

      This book is dedicated to:

      God,

      My husband Verlon

      And to my children (especially) Chris

      (and his wife, Diamond) and Chase,

      Also, my Mother (CJ), Pop and Sisters,

      Angela (late) and Glenda

      Who all believe in me today and love me

      in spite of myself.

      You are all my life and I love you.

      Thanks to our friend, Darryl, for influencing the title.

      Lots of love and prayers to all of those who have suffered

      And especially to those who still are.

      Foreword

      She has no name . . .

      She is one woman . . .

      She is all women

      who’s brokenness leads them down the darkened street,

      not knowing that the only light they have to walk by

      was lit by God . . .

      Seven more Years of Self-Destruction

      (What it was like and how it started)

      I t was hot and humid and she had on not much more than a tank top and daisy-dukes. Her socks were dirty from all the walking she had done and the soles of her shoes were almost worn through. She hadn’t had a bath in a couple of days and she hadn’t noticed it much. Her hair was ratty and her makeup was layered on over a pasty face. She was trying to be seductive looking and she thought that she was the most beautiful thing out there. Her walk was painful but deliberate. She was trying to entice a man, any man to stop for her and pick her up.

      Gotta make some money. Keep walking and walk right. Stop swaying so much and try not to look so drunk or geeked. Not enough sleep or dope. Never enough dope. I need a hit! Wonder if I could get some credit somewhere so I can keep going till I hit a good lick . . . Man, I’m coming down hard! I’m hurting. Oh look! He’s turning around! Look at him and catch his eyes. Make him think you want him. Make him think that you think he is hot or something, anything! Just get in the car! The rest is cake. The more he likes you the more he will pay you. No, no, no, don’t go back around! Can’t you see that I’ve been walking for two hours now and I’m coming down and my feet hurt??? Oh, please come back around! Please help me out of this pain I’m in. Please? Please? Oh good! Here he comes with the passenger side of the car turned toward me. Hey there! Need some company? You the police? Can I get in? (Door shuts) Nice car cutie! So… whatcha wanna do now?

      Life was not easy and by no means was it even pleasant. All she did was out of necessity to support and drug and alcohol addiction. Beer, liquor, pills, weed, heroin and mainly cocaine in any way, shape or form, these were the things that ruled her life… these were her gods. They supplied relief for her tortured soul, and that she had. She had left her child, her home and family for the streets. Sure she had attained 5 years of sobriety and gone to college for Social Work, but what did it all matter? She has a head full of a twelve step program and a body full of poison. She messed up royally and so she didn’t go back to any of it. She gave it all up for this quick form of relief… her old gods. They kept her from feeling the remorse and the shame of having left and staying gone from them. She was numb… except when she was coming down.

      Then was when the tortures began. First her body would start to hurt and she felt the blisters on her feet. They were blisters on top of blisters. Then the sleep deprivation symptoms would come on. (There were no more stimulants active in her system.) Swaying, moving and flailing around so much, and it was uncontrollable and almost unbearable. Her eyes would roll around in her head behind her half mast eyelids. Her hands were all in her hair trying to keep the crawlies out of her face. Her skin felt as if there were spiders all over her and her muscles ached.

      This is when she absolutely had to lay down, somewhere, anywhere and hopefully, it would be safe enough. There were dark places with spiders and roaches and mattresses that were so worn through with holes, stains and odors. There were places where others would charge for you to crash there and usually after you paid them, they would put you back out again. There were places outdoors that were possibly private enough to sleep in, but that was how a woman could get raped if she were discovered sleeping there by the wrong person. The best she could hope for would be for someone to pick her up and have mercy on her and take her somewhere safe or home with them and after their business was complete, they might just let her stay a while and sleep. That way she might even get a mercy shower and meal out of the deal before they took her back to the streets. She would even have a little money on her then so that she could get a wake-up dose. That didn’t always happen, though.

      After the sleep and before the first drink or drug of the day, came the other torture. This was when her heart and her mind would fall back to what she had left behind. His eyes were dark brown and he needed her more than she knew. She thought he was better off without the likes of her because she felt like she had already failed him. He was a little boy at the age of 10. It was hard enough that he had difficulties already in school and social settings, but leaving him, she knew in her heart, was more damaging than anything but she already felt like she had let him down as a mother and tried to believe that she was no good for him because he

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