Trafford Publishing: Behind Locked Doors

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Behind Locked Doors

by Bonita Johnson

107 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #01-0326; ISBN 1-55212-924-1; US$18.99, C$25.00, EUR16.30, £11.30

Behind Locked Doors is compiled of true stories of patients in mental institutions who need to be set free from demonic influence.

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about the book about the author sample excerpt catalogue info

About the Book

Behind Locked Doors will grip your heart and attack your conscience. Each chapter captivates the reader's interest through a journey of emotional and physical pain, sadness, truth, appreciation and fear. Every page is reality because the author lived these true experiences working behind the actual locked doors.

About the Author

Bonita was born in Mars Hill, Maine. She has one older brother. She is a mother of three sons, two daughters, and six grandchildren. Bonita is a Sunday School Teacher, a certified dog Groomer, certified nurse's assistant, certified patient care assistent, mental health technician, an officer in the United States Coast Guard Auxiliary, and a 1975 Connecticut State Champion in Tae Kwon Do Karate.
In her spare time she likes swimming, reading, drama club, boating, working in her garden, grooming dogs, performing as a clown, playing her guitar, ukulele, and harmonica. She also enjoys her Coast Guard Auxiliary duties and sharing Jesus with the youth in her church. She has written several Chrisitan songs, and many poems.
Bonita loves animals and says, "I believe you will not lose your reward for being kind to God's creatures." She now resides in West Palm Beach, Florida, with her husband Walter and assorted dogs, cats and birds.

Sample Excerpt - Chapter 2

Nobody Loves Me
Have you ever felt no one really loved you or cared if you lived or died?
The children's unit is so depressing at times that I must draw my strength from God. I identify with how our Lord feels for these children. A precious little blonde haired, five-year-old boy sits by himself in the corner of the unit. He looks so sad and alone. His head is always down and he doesn't make eye contact with anyone. The police found him on a bridge and stopped to see why he was there alone. He told the officer "I'm going to jump off the bridge; nobody loves me." Even writing this chapter for the book my eyes are tearful, and I want to cry thinking back on this child. A little lonely boy with his stuffed toy under his arm, felt so hopeless and unloved that he was going to jump to his death. My thoughts wander back to the night he was tucked in bed by staff and kissed on the cheek; he began to open up and tell his sad story.
As he snuggled down into his bed, he squeezed his little stuffed animal tightly under his left arm. The white, crisp hospital linen against his fair skin and blonde hair gave him an angelic look. The dim lights shining from the day area filled his room with a soft glow bright enough to see his precious little face. With his nose, eyes, and head full of blonde hair sticking out from under the sheet he said, "I like it here; I wish I could live here. I don't like living with my mommies. When the boy was asked why, he said, "Because my mommy doesn't love me; not any of my mommies love me." I found out from reading his chart that his mother was on drugs and not a responsible parent. She was very tormented in her own life and cared more for her own needs, with no concern for her son. Satan had a hold of her life, and she had no love left for anyone, not even the child she gave birth to. This little boy was a bother, an expense, a burden and kept her from being free to do as she pleased. She decided to give him up, not out of concern for her son, but because she didn't want the responsibility anymore. When they found out about her lifestyle and drugs, they wouldn't have given him back anyway. Like too many children that are unloved and unwanted, he was placed in foster homes. He was treated unkindly and not as an equal. He was set apart from the rest of the family, and he was so unhappy, he ran away. They decided to place him in a different foster home and that didn't work any better than the first. This last home was his fourth. He told us, "I don't like the mommies they give me cause they are mean to me. My mommy says I'm a bad boy and nobody loves a bad boy. She says I'm bad." He was talking about the last foster home he was in at the time he ran away and was found on the bridge. "She says I'm bad and she puts me in a closet; it's dark in there and there's dirty diapers in there. She makes me sit on the dirty diapers, and she won't let me come out; it doesn't smell good in there, and she leaves me there for a long, long time. I know nobody loves me, so I run away from all the mommies. Nobody loves me, so I wanted to go on the big bridge and jump in the water----- and then I be gone all the time and nobody can find me. Then I don't have to run away all the time and be a bad boy." My eyes were filled with tears as I stood there listening to his every word. He said, "Bad boys should go in the water and go way down far in the water and stay there." My heart was so heavy. This little helpless child has been in four foster homes; God, where does it end?
Sometimes the system doesn't do what they should for these children; too many of them slip through the cracks. They put them back into the same homes they were taken from and even worse things happen. The day the police officer found him, he had walked up the long sidewalk to the top of the bridge, churning water far below him. I would imagine he watched some of the boats as they passed underneath him. He must have felt so very alone, afraid, sad, hopeless and so empty inside. I don't know how long he must have stood there thinking and trying to build up the courage to jump. One thing I know for sure, from observing him on the unit, is he had his little stuffed animal tucked tightly under his left arm, near his heart. That little stuffed animal means many things to him. It means he is not alone; he has something to hold on to, and something to hug and talk to. He could bury his little face in it and cry and it would wipe his tears. The only thing he loves is that toy. When he holds it, you can see it fits just right under his arm, and it hangs down over his chest. I thank God that He is always on time, and it was His will that this child be saved from the dark, deep waters. How horrible it would have been to read in the newspaper the following morning that he perished. No one would have known the real story. Perhaps he would have been floating above the water, and I believe his stuffed animal would not have been far from him. Because of God's mercy and love, he is instead safe and sound and surrounded by a staff that cares for him and loves him.
I believe if the Lord doesn't come right away until he is much older, he will one day think back of the day he was going to jump to his death. He will know God loves him and saved him for His Plan. The hospital staff, male and female, worked with him each day. They put good things into his young mind and heart, trying to give him a will to live and put hope in his heart. I prayed God would put him in a loving home and I believe when I pray. God's plan was to save him and Satan's plan was to destroy him.
That reminds me of a story that my mother would tell me when she was alive. My daddy, (who is also with the Lord,) was a logger in New Hampshire when I was not even a year old. During the hot summer daddy would do logging, and the family would stay in the mountains in a small camp. My brother Bobby was two years older than I, and he was playing in a puddle beside the dirt road not far from the camp. Mom saw Bobby through the camp window and decided to go get him so he could take a nap. She opened the door of the small camp to go outside and felt this tug at her heart, and in her thoughts, she heard, "Don't leave the baby take the baby with you." Mom said, "I thought to myself, she's sound asleep and I don't want to wake her. Why was I feeling as I did and thinking that?" She started to go through the door thinking she would get Bobby and it would only take a moment. But before she could pass through the doorway, she heard the words in her mind again, "Don't leave the baby in her crib. Wake her if you must but take her with you." It happened three times and Mom told me, "It was so real that I turned from the doorway and lifted you into my arms and took you with me." My crib was in the back room of the camp. She carried me outside and walked a short way up the dirt road to where my brother was playing.
In that short amount of time when she returned with me in her arms and holding Bobby's hand, she saw the little camp engulfed in flames. A kerosene heater had exploded and the entire camp was in flames. We lost our food, clothes, and toys. Daddy put all his money above the front door. He tucked it in the molding. "All was lost," Mom said, "except the most important thing. And that was our lives. I am so thankful to God for that." She told me, "as I stood there and watched it burn, I kept thanking God for the voice in my mind (the Holy Spirit) that told me to take my baby with me because I would have gone back into the raging fire to get you and we would have both perished." That was Satan's plan. It is so wonderful to think that God's hand was on me back then and I didn't perish in the fire. It was Satan's plan but God said no, and I think of all the lost souls that I would not have been able to testify to if I had died at that time. Our Heavenly Father is always there. He has a plan for each of us. Even before you were in your mother's womb, He knew you. In Jeremiah 1:5, Before I formed you in the womb I knew and approved of you (as My chosen instrument), and before you were born I separated and set you apart, consecrating you; I believe God has a plan for this little boy, just as He does for my life and yours. Part of that plan for me was writing this book. I believe this precious little boy will be all right. He has the hand of God upon him. All that he goes through in life will make him stronger and God will be there to shape and mold him into the man God wants him to be. He will have scars, just as our Saviour has scars, but he will have the victory because Jesus is the victory.
Behind Locked Doors.

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