Hope Found Me

By Lavonnie Snow

The book is about the many dark places that she found herself in, and how god delivered her from every single one of them. How he healed her mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and physically. How he set her free from the bondage of an abusive marriage, and he desires to do the same for all who will turn to him with a true heart, true repentance, that will bring about change. So come on with the author while she takes you through this dark tunnel of her life, and into gods glorious light!

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 28, 2011
• ISBN: 9781456729349

Lavonnie Snow

The author lives in Columbus, Ohio with her mother, who is also her pastor and best friend. She is 39 years of age and enjoys horseback riding, and reading the word of god.

Book preview

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THIS IS NOT A MAKE believe story; this is the truth. I was raised by my mother and grandparents. I was raised in church by both, and believe me, I was very well disciplined by both. I didn’t get away with murder or lies, yet I was in pure darkness. Getting my rear-end torn up did not lead me to the path of righteousness. At the age of about eleven or twelve, I was outside of our house when a childhood friend introduced me to sex; that friend was a female. I didn’t think much of it at the time, and it didn’t take hold of my soul right then, my soul was overtaken by the bondage of lusting after boys. I craved that bondage so bad that I became a dog in heat. I would miss the school bus on purpose just to lay down and fulfill my wildest desire. All it took was for a boy to say, Come on. Let’s put it this way: I was very fat, and believe me, I was teased often about it. So any boy who gave me the slightest bit of attention made me feel wanted, loved. I wasn’t pretty enough or small enough to be called their girlfriend; as a matter of fact, they all would have denied laying down with me. It was secretive. I was good enough to lay and play with, but not good enough to walk down the street and hold hands with and say I belong to them.

As a few years went by, I plunged into even more sexual slavery. I moved on from the boys and was introduced to the older men. I remember this big pretty black car pulling up beside me as I headed to the corner store. The man who drove that car rolled down his window and asked me what my name was. Of course I was happy to give him my name while his words dripped like honey. He knew what to say and what to pay to get me in his car, and yes, I got in like I knew him for years. At the age of fourteen, forty dollars was plenty for me. I never was paid to lay on my back before, and so I was very impressed with Mr. Slickster, so impressed that I would meet with him twice a week. Of course, my mother didn’t know. I thought no one knew except me and him, and at that time, although I was being raised in church, the reality of God seeing all and knowing all hadn’t set in. Spiritual darkness had me blind and deaf, and Mr. Slickster used me for his sexual desires, and I used him for my next type of bondage, money.

I remember my youngest sister and her friend were sitting on the steps inside of our house, smoking cigarettes. As I ran down the steps, I found myself in shock at first. Strange how my shock vanished quickly and turned into, Let me try that. At the time my sister’s friend was stealing them from her aunt to support their habit, which became another form of slavery for me—let me correct that, for all of us. We started spending our days over at the next-door neighbor’s house. He happily gave us all the cigarettes and porno we wanted, and yes, porno became my best friend, and yes another type of bondage for me. Oh you want to know where my mother was? Working her tail off to provide for her children by herself, and by the way, God provided for us all through her. A mother she was; she didn’t know what was going on for she worked many hours. I ended up laying on my back with the neighbor for a price, and oh yes, it would have been a big price for him had my mother found out. I didn’t realize at the time that God who created us all saw me as priceless, so I plunged even deeper into darkness. I found myself laying with this man almost every day, watching porno, and laying in his and his wife’s bed even while she was present in the house. Sin was eating and piercing my very soul as well as their very home. I was wrapped in darkness, and I welcomed it.

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BY THE AGE OF SEVENTEEN, darkness took me deeper in its grip with marijuana. I was hooked, sunk, and anchored. The first time I tried it, I was so high that I prayed to God that if he brought me down, I wouldn’t touch it again. It didn’t happen that way. I wanted more. In my deceived mind, marijuana made everything look better, taste better, and feel better. An intense craving for marijuana took hold of me so bad, I felt like in order to function properly or to feel right, I needed to be high. Not only did I want it , in my sick mind, I needed it. My mind was being transformed by the smoke of it, till it took my mind to the very state of paranoia. Things began to move that were not suppose to move; the slightest noise would make me jump ten feet out of my skin. You would have thought that it would have made me stop smoking. Oh no! Like I said it, it became a functional tool for me. I needed it when I woke up, and I needed it when I went to sleep. By the way, I was not functioning at all. I was stuck, high, and couldn’t move. Honestly, marijuana is a nothing drug: you do nothing, and you become nothing. Did you say speak for myself? I am, and for you also. Denying is dangerous. Most of the time I wasn’t moving, unless of course I was laying with someone. By the way, marijuana became a tool for that also. Like I said, it made things appear to feel better, taste better—and yes, I devoured food at the very sight of it—and look better. (Deception!)

At the age of eighteen, I became a dealer of crack-cocaine. I first started sitting in spots, what is known as dope houses, answering the door and receiving the money. As far as handing the dope to the clientele, I didn’t. Still, it’s all the same. It didn’t take long before the guy I was working for took me out of the dope houses and trusted me to run his whole operation. I had never seen so much money in my life, and so I let the devil spiral me into more darkness. My soul was engulfed by the flames of evil. I was in death’s hands. I took on a whole new attitude. All I needed was a grandfather hat, and you could not convince me that I was not the mafia myself. I pulled the trigger once over fifty dollars. Yes ,as much money as I had, fifty dollars was like five cents. It wasn’t the fifty dollars that was owed that made me pull the trigger. It was the fact that the man who owed the money said to me that he would give me my money when he felt like it. Of course, he said a few curse words that I no longer use, so you can just about hear the filth that he spoke to me, and at that time I wasn’t to be toyed with. I was fuming! I looked at my driver; yes I had a driver who took me to every dope house on every side of town that I operated. My driver looked at me, and before I knew it, I had turned back around, looked at the man as he was walking away, pulled out my gun, and shot him in the back of his calf. I was so bold as to walk up to him as he hit the ground and tell him that I would be back the next day to get my money. Did I run to the car? No. On a street full of people, I walked calmly as if nothing happened. See I had taken on a role. I didn’t tolerate disrespect from anyone, and I was not afraid to show it, I was so bold as to go