Going Down for the Third Time

By Pamela Hammer

Cry until you laugh. Have you ever known exactly how someone feels? Then there's a little bit of you in here. Take a stroll through the life of a woman who didn't know how to say no-well at least to a bottle of alcohols and a syringe full of drugs-yet she had no problem saying yes to the men in her life and then along came Jesus. A question: What do you do with leftovers? How did she go from bad girl to ordained minister? If you can't find yourself in here, then maybe you should read it again. A story from Hell to Heaven, she was going down for the third time. The only one who heard her cry for help was someone she couldn't see. Ever been there? Then came her knight in shining armor. His name is Jesus! He's a hero! He's God!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Oct 10, 2018
• ISBN: 9781643502281

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Going Down for the Third Time

Pamela Hammer

Copyright © 2018 Pamela Hammer

All rights reserved

First Edition

Page Publishing, Inc

New York, NY

First originally published by Page Publishing, Inc 2018

ISBN 978-1-64350-229-8 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64350-228-1 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

I would like to dedicate this book to my mother.

Without her continued prayer and faith in God, I am certain I would not be here today. Thanks, Mom.

There are several people I would like to acknowledge:

My husband and kids—They are truly my gift from God

Cathe Mitre—She is my support and my cheerleader. I couldn’t have done this without her.

Scott Giles—the best brother and pastor that ever lived,

Lorie Bushlow—Although she is my sister, she is my absolute best friend. I can’t even imagine life without her.

Natalie Wilson—She was the most incredible help to me. She put a lot of the pieces together.

Chapter 1

Therefore, to you who believe, He is precious; but to those who are disobedient, The stone which the builders rejected Has become the chief cornerstone.

—1 Peter 2:7

Sometimes it’s hard to know where to start. Do you start where you know the difference or where you thought you knew the difference?

Let’s start with a thirteen-year-old girl who was as wild as a hornet’s nest. Of course at thirteen, all teenagers assume they have all the knowledge they need to get them through any bump along the road of life. Perhaps some do, although I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting one. Thirteen is a new way of life. Just ask any teenager, they’ll tell you what it’s all about. After all, they’re not kids anymore!

My parents were divorced some years before turning this blessed age, and I believed the sun and the moon rose in my father. He was the greatest man this side of Heaven. My mother had since remarried to a wonderful man so full of love for all us kids, so we actually had two daddies. My brother and sister and I really had it made, and my mom was happier than I had ever seen her. Mom and Howard, soon after moving to a new house, had my new little baby sister, Cathe. We were blessed and cared for as well as anyone could be. As I look back on it now, the Lord was ever present at this time of my life, not knowing what salvation was about and knowing very little about God.

Dad came on the weekends of his visitation and Lorie, Scott, and I were eager to be with him, always having the times of our lives. Going with Daddy was always an adventure. Fun was had by all. So much fun, I could have stayed forever. There came a time when Daddy met a woman whom he fell in love with. She was fun, had two children of her own, and of course, he couldn’t seem to get enough of her. Gracie danced and tended bar at a joint down the street; when I say dancing, you can bet she wasn’t doing the twist. Maybe she was, but I really don’t think so. What struck a chord with me was the way the men looked at her. She could have been spinach, but still seemed to heat up every red-blooded male within a hundred yards. Perhaps that’s why Daddy was so taken with her. We probably could and should have known what was coming next. It sounded like wedding bells to me, and sure enough, we were going to be a happy little family. Because I had never met anyone quite like Gracie, she fascinated me. I carried some weight at this time in my life and was self-conscious about it; being overweight was hard for a thirteen-year-old, and somehow Gracie made those feelings go away. She allowed me to go to the club with her to watch her dance and always paid an incredible amount of attention to me. A girl could get used to this. It was great fun hanging out with the big girls.

The day came when I approached my daddy about coming to live with him and Gracie. Think of all the help I could be, picking the kids up from day care, being home in case anyone needed anything. Everybody thought that was a great idea. Everyone but Mom.

The day came when I left to go live with Dad. I was extremely happy. I had my dad, but also had a superstar for a stepmom; it was worth waiting for. What more could I ask for? It was great fun for a while until the newness wore off, and I began to miss my brother and sisters. I wanted to go home. I had longed to be with my dad, but I wanted my mom. A teenage girl needs her mother. The problem was telling Daddy what I wanted. I sucked it up one evening and let him in on my desire. Gracie was at work, so after I spoke with him, Daddy, called Gracie. All of a sudden, Gracie came through the door like she was on fire. She was very angry. She told me to get out of bed and call my mother to tell her daddy and I were going to work things out, and I would be staying there after all. Things changed after that. I demanded more freedom than any teenager had a right to. I believe Daddy would have given me the moon, as long as I stayed there with him.

My behavior shot out of control. Daddy let me start dating boys older than I was, which led to the loss of my virginity, and the loss of my self-respect. For a thirteen-year-old girl, out of control is a dangerous thing. Soon after dating a drummer in a band, I started skipping school. Not only was I an emotional wreck, I felt cheated about not being with my mom.

Court day arrived without a hitch, custody being the topic of conversation. Oh, how I was dreading this. I didn’t want to hurt my dad, but when I saw my mom coming toward me, I knew where I wanted to be. If my mother hadn’t said one word to me, the look on her face said it all. I prayed she would allow me to come home, and sure enough, she did. She looked at me and said, Your brother and sisters miss you so much, don’t you want to come home? Bingo! There’s no place like home. It was wonderful to finally get to go home. My heartbreak was my daddy. I had hurt him so much. Would he ever be able to forgive me? Would I ever be able to forgive myself?

The excitement filled the air; I was getting to go home. Daddy didn’t want to talk to me or see me. A lot of guilt for a kid, but I was home at last, just where I should have been all the time.

Peer pressure is and always will be a significant element in any teenager’s life. This was a time when my mother really needed the gentle and reverent leading of the Father, as she was to embark on a trip through the outer limits or in my case puberty. I was going to start high school in a new city, and no friends. Harder being that I was still overweight, this was not a good combination. Thank goodness I was cute; otherwise, I would have never made it through the first day at Huntington High School.

Boys can be very cruel, especially when you like them. While living with Daddy, he allowed me to date way beyond my years. Watching my stepmother dance and receiving unconditional attention, I related love with sex. Sex was something you did to please whoever it was you were with. I found no pleasure or physical satisfaction in this act of intimacy. So this relationship between sex and love followed me throughout most of my life, not being able to separate one from the other, only knowing that if I wanted a boyfriend that was what you did.

Every teenager wants a boyfriend or girlfriend. So, any attention I got was acceptable whether negative or positive. I had no clue what self-respect was all about because I didn’t have any. If it wasn’t tangible, then it wasn’t anything important.

My choice of friends left much to be desired. I had found the fast lane and was traveling full speed ahead. The fast lane can be very dangerous to a confused, promiscuous, I-know-all-I need-to-know teenager. Drugs came into focus as I approached the tenth grade. Everybody who was anybody did drugs. I kept it hidden, Mom being so busy. Mom always worked from as far back as I can remember. It gave me a license to do whatever I wanted at any given time, who was going to tell on me? How I regret what I put my parents through. Mom and Howard never really asked a whole lot of us, and recalling back, they didn’t get much help, at least not from me.

Cathe was the most terrific kid in the hemisphere. The fourteen-year difference in our age was never a conflict. My little sister was the sweetest thing. I used to love to just hug her and pretend she was mine. Cathe was a light to the family, opening the door for salvation. God knew where to go. He chose a child to lead them. Cathe started going to church with the neighbors down the street. Apparently, her transformation to God became real. Real enough for Mom to take an interest. This was the beginning of what was to be a life-changing experience, for all my family. The saving grace of the Lord stands out in a crowd, and my mom was about to take notice. So it happened. Mom attended church and all us kids were going with her. I had to be present in church but held back, so as not to upset my social calendar.

I started hanging with some very tough people. In 1967, we would call them motorcycle gangs. I was on a role. I had acquired all the attention I could have ever asked for. Little did I know the consequences that came with the glory of hanging out with these folks. For the first time I could remember, I had all the respect I needed from everybody at school; looking back on it, maybe they were just afraid of me. There’s a big difference between fear and respect. One is given, the other you take by force. They did what they wanted, when they wanted, and with whom they wanted at any time. The circus had come to town, and I was smack-dab in the middle of a situation I had no control over.

School was the furthest thing from my mind, and I ended up in a continuation school. That was fine for me; shoot, look at all the time I had to mess around. Continuation school was only half day, oh, the possibilities! One evening I found myself in more trouble than I knew what to do with. The dreaded lawman. Now riding with a motorcycle gang was bad enough, but now I found myself busted. Busted big time. They were arresting me for kidnapping. Jail was the scariest place I had ever been. Come to find out the person reported kidnapped was none other than me. My gang, my buddies, had found me at a party where the club hadn’t been invited. They came right in and took me out of the party, and consequently the police were called. My parents were alerted by someone chaperoning the party. They told her I had been removed bodily and had no clue who took me. After giving the police my name, they called my parents. I don’t believe the look on my mother’s face will ever leave my memory. It was one of sheer terror. I had hurt her beyond words and scared her to death. I don’t recall seeing my buddies around after that. No matter how I felt about my mom, I knew I had all but crushed her. I started hanging with a new bunch of friends. They were nothing special, but the fear of trouble had all but escaped us.

It wasn’t long after I was soon to meet the father of my children.

I had a friend who had a friend that, even though he was a little older than I was, he could keep me in check. I dated him for one year, but once again the relationship didn’t last. Was I ever going to find that special someone? I guess I just had to keep looking.

Because I had so much time on my hands, only attending school half-day, I was all over the place. Walking wasn’t a big deal to me, through town anyway. I was determined to find Mister Right, I was