Cleaning my desk

Do you ever feel like you can't start a new project or even finish a half done one up before you get organized, cleaning all around your work space and then settle in for the creative stuff? For me that struck this week as I've quarantined myself at home for several health issues that just need time to pass and heal.

Yet God is tugging at my heart to finish my story, update my blog and work on putting together the stories that glorify Him. But today, even after moving my lap top back onto my desk (which took some clearing off itself!) I couldn't sit down and get a thing done until I had some room around me. The remnants of a recent retreat were still piled next to my desk; bags that hadn't been unpacked and stacks of paperwork, filing and just "stuff" abounding around me.

I see progress now though. My desk is taking some shape, yes a big pile remains that I know I have to go through but I am working through the details bit by bit.



Its far from perfect, but then again, so am I. We work well together, this little desk and I but I need some room!

God is working with me on many things right now; organization. Procrastination. Patience. Vision. Direction. I'm hearing the organization messages loud and clear and I become more discontent with the chaos around me. I think that's how God works with us too. He puts little things in our heart that say "I don't like this anymore." and we can start to see how changing that one little thing changes us inside. When I listen to that heart message, and act upon it, I am obedient. When I hear the message and ignore it, several things happen. I shut God out of my life, even unintentionally and I miss out on the blessing of His teaching.

I was taught that in Exodus as God gave Moses the ten commandments He said "I give you these commandments so things may go well for you," and I reflect on this even now. When I listen to God's commandments or direction in my life, things usually seem to go well for me. When I ignore that voice in the quiet, go my own way or orchestrate my own actions, I often find things get pretty mucked up in a hurry.

God has purpose and plan for each of us. He has direction He knows is in our best interest. He needs to refine each of us in order that we carry out His plan and purpose and I think He does this through a long series of events and choices and options. The more I listen and follow directions, the closer I am to seeing and understanding God's plan for my life. I am starting that with simply learning to hear His voice and acting upon what I hear. As silly as it may sound, today I really think God wanted me to get some things cleared away and cleaned up so I could focus on some tasks that need my attention.

I have taken time to get through surgery and recover from bronchitis, asthma and now ear infections. I am ready to work again and though I still need some quiet time to let the doctor prescribed medications take full hold, I have much I can do right here at my desk. But first, God said it clearly, you have to be able to find that desk.

Tomorrow I plan on study and prayer time. God has much for me to do and I need to hear what that is. I know no other way than to give the day to Him. I'll let Him take it from there.

Praying on Our Knees - In Touch Ministries - Dr. Charles Stanley 2010

Praying on Our Knees - In Touch Ministries - Dr. Charles Stanley 2010

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Always pray.

Mark and I have been talking a great deal lately about the ministry; it's growth track and it's future. It's been 7 mos. now since we made the step out in faith and started Spirit House Ministries. We did so we knew at the direct calling of our Lord and we felt confident in it's success. We have seen some wonderful successes to be sure.

But lately we've felt a sense of discontent with its progress and our vision. I have to admit I've even felt like chucking it all and finding some secular job so Mark and I could maybe buy our own home and have a few extra things! But I know these desires are not from God and that such a direction could seriously derail our spiritual growth as well.

Mark and I have never questioned that God brought us together for His special purpose. Our lives, so complex and filled with challenges, came together at a time when we both so needed the strength and comfort of another person. God knew our needs and saw to them in a special and unique way that only He can orchestrate. From our first date we talked about our faith, our love of Jesus and our desire to devote our lives to His purposes.

So these new aching challenges of direction and next steps has us truly in a crisis of the heart. Where does God want us to take His work? What are the next steps?

Our answer? Prayer. What else can we do but take our confusion and blurred vision to the maker of all, our Lord and Savior. For this ministry and our lives are His masterpiece, His work and His plan. We are not immune to the spiritual warfare that Satan would deceive us by. But we are armed with the strength that cannot be challenged.

Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.

Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place,

and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace.
In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one.

Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the saints.

Pray also for me, that whenever I open my mouth, words may be given me so that I will fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel,

for which I am an ambassador in chains. Pray that I may declare it fearlessly, as I should. (Eph. 6:13-20 NLT)

Therefore, return to scripture, where truth lies and His desires for our life are mapped out. It is incumbent upon us all that our lives should be armed with God and our direction in any warfare should be at His leading. Our work, that of a battle against this world and our desires, and all that God would have us do must be grounded in scripture and grounded in His word. Nothing replaces a personal relationship with God, our father and His Son, Jesus Christ. If we are to remain in His will, then, nothing can replace our study of His word and deep, spiritfilled prayer.

Our ministry is nothing with our own efforts. We can work and work and go nowhere if we leave out the power of Christ in our lives. This ministry and this blog are but tools of God to use to increase His Kingdom and care for His children.

Mark and I agree, God is center first in our lives and this ministry is where He has placed us for His purposes. Our job is to listen and when directed, act. In those times when we have no specific direction, our task it to ask...ask and it will be given to you. It is time, Lord, Mark and I ask for your divine direction in our lives and the resources to carry them out. We are your servants.

I share all this with you today to show that all, even those whose lives are drenched in ministry, have times in which we feel lost and without direction, confused by the world and tugged at by things that might not be of His choosing for our lives. Being honest with you is my greatest gift. I believe we are in this together and learning from one another, even in times of turmoil, strengthen us in the long run for the battle of this fallen world in which we operate.

I promised this blog would be honest and the stories and writing would be true and accurate. I hope this too meets that standard as we move through the moments of our lives that are not always smooth and perfect. I pray that our lives and our struggles become comfort for others who wonder at their destiny and their purpose. And I pray. Always pray.

My editor

I spent 182 days in Williamson County Jail. In a life of now 48 years, that doesn't sound like much time. Almost three years later, as I work to document those days, the staff, court personnel and the women I shared "our house" with I am slowly seeing it all in a very different way.

Early on in my "stay" I began making notes of experiences, events, processes and people; the writer living inside me since I was a small child wanted to insure this very BIG experience wasn't lost to just another blurred memory. I wanted to keep alive everything I was going through and in the beginning it was for purposes that were less than noble, I wanted to figure out how to make money off my bad circumstances. That's the brutal truth. I wanted to write some "tell all" book to expose the injustices within the justice system and the often inhumane treatment that exists in our jails and prisons. Brutal, honest truth. Over time my notes became a scrapbook of words, a way to vividly remember the unique, diverse and interesting women that were housed in WILCO during that time. Monica, Kristan, Nichole, Lori, Patrica, Robyn, Cindi, Hope, Lee, Shannon, Olanda; the list of women and their stories are now a part of our joined history, now a part of my life forever.

Don't get me wrong. There was plenty to write about, the injustice was often quite real. The inhumane treatment not a figment of angry imaginations. I could write a book about that! But God put something on my heart that took this work and those notes in a new direction. He wants His daughter's stories, their testimonies to be clearly a reflection of His love. That's my task, starting with my own story and working right on through each and every story I was to hear, it was and is to be an accurate representation of God's Love and His Grace and His Mercy.

There was a purpose for my experience and in that experience God knew He had placed me where I could find a voice for my life. He also knew that I would never quiet until the stories were told and people could read them. I continue to work toward the goal of publication and I keep gathering stories and notes and interviews and conversations that tell how God has worked in the miraculous lives of the many women I came to know behind bars.

Not a one of those women will tell the same story. Their lives are unique blended experiences that are vividly alive. They may have drugs in common, or prostitution, or theft...they may share an abusive background or relationship. But they are individual women whose lives were continual choices, this direction or that. Some knew God from childhood, others discovered God in jail as I did, still others were being reintroduced to their loving Heavenly Father. Few that I met were unwilling to talk about God. I was probably one of the most stubborn in that regard! And as we talked, the conversations always took on a glow. There was something truly on fire in the dark hours when we would gather and speak quietly about Jesus and faith and what it means to be a Christian. No matter what might be going on in the tank or pod, when women gathered in the quiet to talk, something made the bars fall away and the guards disappear. We were alone with one another and with God.

You often hear that God sets man free and it is no more true than behind bars. When you feel His presence in your heart and with you right where you are, not even the cold steel and concrete of jail can make your heart feel trapped or caged. You are free in spirit and free in faith and free in love. God takes you from the empty night and brings you to His light. Those are the stories that we shared. Stories of how yesterday and today don't matter as much as the love our God has for us.

I will never forget those moments in jail when I sat contently on my bunk as though on my bed at home. Reading and writing and taking notes as though I was studying for a college exam and not writing on a steel bunk in county jail. I will never forget how God transported my mind away from the failure and shame of my actions to focus on our relationship alone.

And while I might have spent time planning my tell all book, God had other things in mind. Who am I to disregard my editor? He is the author and finisher!

When I sit down to write on my book or blog, two things are always true, I am in a good mood and I am feeling inspired to share something even if I don't know what that "something" is. Today these truths hold firm. But it has me wondering...why am I so unwilling to write when I'm in a bad mood? What keeps me from sharing the negative feelings? Why am I so careful not to expose the bad the days, the unjoyful days, the days void of something happy and light?

Even as I write this, it is amazing to me how the words just seem to type themselves and a message, not what I intended but what God would have me write seems to get created and put on screen. I am thinking about the negative, always a part of our lives at some point in time, even if only for a moment, and I am reminded of the images of the "church people" of my past. The perfectly dressed, perfectly combed and brushed and curled with pearls church ladies that always made me feel frumpy and inadequate. I think of the men in suits that always looked so much more dapper than my husband, more dapper and somehow more successful that dropped their checks in the basket for all to see as the highly polished brass plate was passed by. I think of the children, all spit-shined with stark white anklets and severly pressed dress pants.

And how nothing negative ever seem to hang over any of them except my perception of my life in comparison to theirs.

Then one day, while still living with Pastor Joy, she drug me to a woman's retreat at our church. The ladies, like all the ladies of church I had ever known were dressed and polished, hair perky and perfectly cut, clothes ironed to perfection, jewelry in perfect balance with the clothes and colors. They gathered, chittering and chatting, anxious to hear our guest speaker, Linda Strom, who wrote the book "Karla Fay Tucker: Set Free".

Linda Strom brought a speaker with her as well and the day was a journey in both their testimonies and my perception of the perfect church ladies I had ever known began to change. As the day moved from worship to testimony to growing activities I saw these women in a whole new way. One exercise had us gathered in groups of four or five women; all to tell something about their struggles and the times in their life when they could not feel God close or leaned on Him the most.

I sat in my group, certain I knew what I was about to hear - stories about the twins having chicken pox at the same time or the struggle to deal with a gossipy neighbor. I was sure the stories would be guarded reflections of trifling "challenges" while I still wondered, fresh out of incarceration, how I would ever rebuild my life.

The first lady started, tears already welling in her eyes as she talked about the infidelity of her husband and how she wasn't sure they would ever see their way out of the debt he had racked up during his affair, let alone her ability to forgive and most past his betrayal. The next lady, in response to one of the days speakers shared her story about her rape she had always hidden away but now felt free to admit it was a part of her life. My criminal history and my own tortured past which included childhood sexual abuse as well didn't seem as dark and unfamiliar. Each woman shared more than I ever knew lived behind the leaded glass front doors on the perfect Norman Rockwell houses and I was more than surprised, I was relieved.

I had lived my entire life avoiding that place where I felt the most out of sync; church. I had lived my entire life feeling as though all the people there had much to feel blessed about and that is why they were there. I had little I could feel was praise worthy in my life and therefore I didn't belong!

Why, oh why do we think we have to put on shiny, perfect faces when the lives of so many in each and every church is made up of trauma, crime, violence, betrayal, and grief. Why do we feel compelled to put on a smile when there is pain deep inside us? Why must we present our lives as a testament to perfection separating us from the reality of life?

The truth is we live in a fallen world and each and every one of us are at some point affected by its fallenness. People are hurting and healing, grieving and coming to joy, addicted and recovering, betraying and reconciling each and every day. People feel less, inferior, unloved, unloveable, inadequate and small; but many are transformed by a BIG, more than enough God that sees them as His wonderful creations and we seek to feel that acceptable, uncompromising love every time we step inside the walls of His Church.

I had to go to jail, fail in every aspect of my life, be dragged to church and a woman's retreat before I knew the truth behind the faces...the contentment and joy that only God provides. I had to be desperate enough to change what my life had been before I could see that others shared my story and now my God. The brave and loving women who embraced me and shared with me their true lives that day changed the way I looked at church, myself and the perfect "church women" I had always loathed and envied.

I never want to be the negative Nellie that has to point out the bad in every situation or drone on about social injustice, crime, violence, bigotry, racism, the economy, politics and the state of the country and world. But I also don't want to ignore that the Church, the people who feel it necessary to present perfect lives need to have a voice and a place to share with the entire body of Christ all that they have lived through and all that God has done in their lives!

Our honesty with ourselves, each other and our wonderful God about the negative in our lives opens our lives to what God can do. Believing that faking it til we make it keeps us in control but gives God little room in our lives. Believing that God already knows the darkest parts of our lives invites Him in to do that only He can do. Being honest with one another gives us each a safe and loving place to rest together while we wait on Him to move in our lives.

I think of that day often, thankful in my heart that God again was revealing a truth to me about His church and His children. Just like the perfectly coiffed women of my torment, I saw the tortured, turbulent lives behind the make up and hair and perfect clothes. I saw that God made me just the way He intended; imperfect and living in this fallen world. He made me for His purpose and just like the lady in pearls next to me, I too have a destiny. No less or more precious than the family in the pew in front of me, I am His child, His daughter, His creation. And though my life has had its share of negative, He knew all of this even before He breathed life into me and I am as much His child as anyone else, just as loved, just as treasured. And like those many men and women in Church, I have secrets and fears and insecurities that I don't let the world see, for my own reasons.

To the women who shared with me that day, thank you. To my friends, sisters and church, thank you. Though you may not be willing or ready to reveal your truth to me, I know it's there and I love you. To my God who revealed this and many truths to me since we met, thank you, and I praise you for all that you are and all that you have done for me.

I am imperfect and I am loving it. I'm ready to share your imperfection too. I pray for you that whatever holds you back from an authentic life, you too are set free...because we are all one Body of Christ and all living in the same fallen world. God bless us all!

Spirit House I

Where did the month go?

Oh, that's right, we were busy making our housing unit ready for our first resident! Mark and I have been so busy painting and hauling furniture and replacing kitchen counters and stocking shelves with all the things that make a household run, well...it's been tough getting back here to keep everyone updated.

I have pics! Boy do I have pics!

Let's start with our before pictures. The housing units really didn't look like much when we first walked in but I felt in my heart that both the partnership with Jesus is Love Outreach Ministries and Spirit House Ministries was a Godly one and with some love these units could be made into a home so I walked out in faith and said yes.



Spirit House is so proud of all our donors, the friends and family who have pitched in to make these units come alive with God's love and provision!



Tuesday I was blessed to meet our first resident as I drove to Gatesville for her release. It is always an amazing day when a woman walks out of bondage into light.
Belinda is no different. She's happy and full of hope in her Lord. That's all we can ask for. The look on her face is why we are called to do what we do and we can't ask for more than what you see here.



I am always humbled that Mark and I were both called into service at the same time; with the same devotion and heart. Each for our own reasons but together working toward the same goals to serve the same mighty God. Trusting always in His divine intervention in all things, we are ready to start on unit II and get out there for more donations and more support. Guided by His direction in all things, Spirit House takes shape and moves ahead. God is good....ALL the time.

So today there isn't a memory or some lesson learned, no deep thoughts or ponderings of what we experience with the women we serve. Today is a day of celebration for us as we see our heart's desire come to pass. We are a ministry that serves, we are doing what we said we would do and we are seeing God provide in ways we could not orchestrate. It's a wonderful day when one sees a plan come together, learning to let God do the planning is our hardest part. But we're learning. And He's doing.

The Church at work

Our landlord had a screen door installed on our front door today. I am enjoying the wonderful sunshine while working as I can leave my solid front door open with this new contraption keeping the bugs and cold out. It's marvelous. I can watch the cars go by, hear the sounds of kids coming home from school and bask in the warmth of the sun as it slowly moves across the carpet. One wouldn't think that something as simple and common as a screen door could provide such joy but today I am just a kid again with this newly installed, functional item at my disposal and I want to praise God for the generosity of our landlord.

I recognize she did not have to install this door on our unit. We rented it without a screen door so we had no expectation of one nor should we have. Yet, when our landlord decided to move into the other half of the duplex to "downsize" she began upgrading little things for her own convenience and has included us in each upgrade she has done. There has been no added expense to us and she hasn't raised the rent in the two years we've been here, she just says she appreciates us as tenants and we are a blessing to her!

She continues to watch us ready ourselves for upgrading and renovating the housing units. She knows what we are about and what we do to serve the Lord. She has contributed painting supplies, carpet and the use of her pick up for transporting large items to Copperas Cove. She continues to demonstrate a love for us that is unique these days. We continue to keep her in our prayers and to be the most timely and conscientious tenant we know how to be.

The Church was meant to be this way. Yet today in our dog eat dog world we are often quick to forget the giving, loving and generous hearts that God created in us. While Mark and I work diligently to provide housing to a woman who may otherwise wind up homeless and without care; our landlord gives generously to us in simple ways that bring us joy and comfort. The sharing of our resources, the giving and spreading of what we have is an expression of Christ in us and I am humbled today to see evidence of it as the suns pours in and the cold is kept out.

Screen doors may not bring everyone the same joy I am experiencing, but I challenge each of us to look around and find the generosity sent your way today you might have overlooked. And I challenge each of us to find a way today to be a generous Christian to someone else. This is the Church at work.

Job descriptions

We're gearing up for our first resident to join us in February but of course amid the busy work of painting and redecorating the housing units we still have clients whom we work with that are not part of our housing program. Those clients, whose needs are different but just as necessary make up a large part of my day. Whether I'm referring them to a professional service or engaging them in life coaching exercises, they too need the attention and time that only one on one can provide.

Over the weekend I received some distressing emails from a client who was released late last quarter and was blessed with a safe and warm home to return to with a loving partner who was there and ready to accept her back into his life. She is very fortunate. Blessed one might say. Yet amid all of God's blessings; a home, food, clothes, a car, even money for more frivolous things such as hair appointments and pedicures (a weakness of mine) she still feels so much anger, confusion, betrayal, fear and uncertainty in her life. It's difficult talking to her at times. In one moment she's rational and clearly sees God working in her life. In the next, she cannot shake off the old life, the old temptations, the anger and hurt that always explode in a rage of alcohol and drugs. She relapsed this weekend. After a night in a hotel and waking to remorse and shame the next morning she returned home to find a prayerful and forgiving spouse who laid out totally new ground rules to her. That was her one fall, in his home, he said. His sobriety and his stable life wasn't worth her chaos. The price was now too high for him. God, he said, told him to forgive her but to make clear he was not responsible for her ungodly lifestyle. One more time and he was done.

She called today and we talked. As we did, God was with us both and we were able to see how far, even in her relapse she was already healed by God's love. While she did choose drugs over other coping skills, this time, when she did she did not feel the physical compulsion to just keep drugging.

I always love when God just takes over my mouth and speaks words that I have no idea where they come from (of course knowing as its happening and always afterward that I had nothing to do with what was said!) I pointed out to her that the physical compulsion, the part that sends you back for more and more, the part any addict will tell you keeps you bound in the insidious spiral, was gone. During her incarceration, in letter after letter, she agonized over why God had not and was not healing her of her addictions. Why was He not healing her as He had done so many others! Today, as we talked, God revealed to her just how much He had already done in her. The compulsion was gone. The craving didn't rear its ugly head and in the dawn of the morning, the bad choice, the behavior, became manageable. Physical compulsions were almost more than a human can manage, behavior can be modified! God has already done in her body what she would never be able to cure or heal on her own; the physical compulsion simply wasn't there.

I have witnessed many repentant tears, broken hearts, hopeful smiles in the work I do but I have never witnessed the dawning of hope in quite the same way until today. God was at work long before we ever knew, doing what only He can do in us; miraculous healing.

There is nothing I can do to change or heal or cure any of the women that we work with. I have to rely on God to do what only He can do. I was humbled today as I watched Him at work realizing that while I am busy building a ministry to serve His beautiful daughters, He is at work doing what He needs done. And the overwhelming feelings I've been having lately about all there is to do in our ministry are diminished.

God wrote out our job descriptions.

Tonight I'm busy with paperwork and getting things lined up for the housing unit. And tonight God is busy doing what He does best, healing hearts. Anyone can do what I'm doing. God is amazing. I'm also thanking Him tonight for job descriptions. Who'd ever thought?

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Do I need a Savior?

When I was first released from jail back in July of '07 the last thing I wanted to do was talk about what I had done or even the fact that I had been in jail. I wanted to forget the embarrassing circumstances that brought me there and remove myself as far as I could from the guilt and shame I felt over what would be a part of my history forever. I was no longer a struggling single Mother doing a wonderful job of juggling it all but was now a "former inmate" or "ex-offender" or my favorite, "a known felon".

The truth was, most folks think those in jail and prison are flippant about their crimes, all intentionally and with malice committed to hurt someone and cause pain on others without remorse or afterthought.

The truth is, most everyone I met in jail regretted what they had done, were ashamed so much so that even among a "den of thieves" they dare not speak the truth about it. Most felt guilt for what they were now putting their families through, guilt about children left behind somewhere, either with other family or in the system. They felt shame they had lived a life so opposed to what they even believed to be right or good that to attach the crime to their very personage was so difficult as to sometimes cause great emotional scarring and turmoil. They didn't sit around joking and laughing about what they didn't get caught doing or plotting their next crime once they were free again. Oh sure, from time to time an off handed joke would float about but that wasn't the norm and in the quiet hours of night when small groups would chat and women would journal or write letters to the outside, the real stuff came flooding out. The tears of shame would fall slowly down faces bearing no make-up; nothing to hide behind. Pages would wrinkle from the torturous hours of writing and crying, as tears dropped onto notebook paper and curl the thin sheets.

I remember those hot tears of shame and guilt; remorse and anger and disappointment in myself. I remember all the emotions that flooded over me during my jail time and after. I wanted to flee outside those walls and pretend that wasn't my life. I wanted to forget that I was that "ex-offender" or "former inmate".

But the world doesn't want us to forget.

So I ask you, who are you? What label does the world put on you? Are you a doctor? A lawyer? A secretary? A mother? An accountant? A babysitter?

Now think about the worst thing you can think you have ever done? Did you have an abortion as a teenager? Did you steal someone's boyfriend in high school? Did you fantasize about a famous actor or sports figure? Did you drink too much in college or yesterday perhaps? Did you take home a few office supplies for school supplies for the kids last fall? Did you forget to scan that soda under your cart at the grocery store? Did you make out with your boss at last year's Christmas party? Did you wish you were someone else for a minute, living someone else's life?

Whatever you have done, no matter how big or small, there is a label for it and God says you are a sinner. Perhaps you are the worst sinner, a murderer? That abortion at 15 wasn't near as harmless as you once thought, not "just a decision". That relationship you came between, did that make you an adulterer or were you coveting something someone else had rights to? Perhaps you are just a drunkard or glutton? Doesn't harm anyone but you? Or are you a thief in those little disguised ways we push out of our minds?

Thankfully though, no matter what label we or the world attaches to our worst behavior, despite all that we do that is not pleasing to God, He still loves us so much that long before we were born to make our worst mistakes, He came up with a way back to Him. He devised a perfect plan and set it into motion so that our separation from Him would not be forever. His plan of redemption and salvation undermines our biggest, most heinous acts against ourselves, others and against God Himself.

And because of this I no longer have to fear the labels of the world but can walk with my head held high as I realize that I am forgiven. To the one who holds my destiny, I am as far from my sin as the east is from the west. Even more, my story has a purpose now. Even my worst decision, my biggest crime, is a story of redemption and forgiveness and it has a purpose. No, I don't take pride in the things I've done and there are some I still would rather never know what I had done but none the less, the past is past and my future is secure because of the one choice I made that trumps all others. I made the choice to make Jesus Christ my personal Lord and Savior, and because of this choice, if He chooses to use my shame-filled past to show His glorious love for each of us, it isn't for me to say no. For the gift He has promised me, the gift I can rely upon is far greater than the discomfort of a label in this world.

But I ask you, before you label me, think again about the worst thing you've ever done. Wear that label for a day or two, really honestly wear that label, then ask yourself this:

"Do I need a Savior?"

A God of Restoration

For most of us, the holidays are a time of gift buying, baking, family and friends. We gather together, give more to charities and find ourselves in overly good and merry moods. I know I do.

I work in my little elf shop, making cards and writing out letters to friends I seldom remember the rest of the year in the hustle and bustle with work. I put down other hobbies and save my time for holiday pursuits. But not everyone I know has the luxury of turning their lives in different directions for the season. Their lives are dictated from sun up to sun down as any other day. They are the many women (and men) we serve at Spirit House Ministries who are currently incarcerated in jail or prison. They live their lives day in and day out without some of the simple joys that I have every day.

While I know most of these women committed a crime that landed them in their circumstances, I never want to forget that they are more than the crime they committed. They made choices and mistakes, that is true. Yet they are also women with stories, pasts, families. They are educated or uneducated. They are single or married. They are mothers or sisters or aunts or daughters. They are women who you might be surprised are much like you.

Because I work with these women and I have lived with them as well, I know another side to the stories you may think you know. I've laughed with them and cried with them. I've fought with them and shared with them. I've listened to their fear that the world is going on without them and heard them give thanks that someone has remembered them with a card or letter. I've shared pictures of my children as they shared pictures of theirs. I've whispered prayers with them and played cards with them all at the same time. I've been blessed to know them.

Tonight, while I was busy in my elf workshop, creating some greeting cards for Christmas gifts, my phone rang. It was a client and friend who was released from prison early this year. She struggled in her first weeks, trying to learn about God and her relationship with Christ while battling the lure of the world as it welcomed her back. In short order she found herself pregnant and wondering how this would all work out but determined, having lost custody of her other two children, that she would make life right for this one. I can hear you now, she has no business having a child! Some new life she is living, giving in to sin and creating a life she has no business raising. Smart one, she is, getting pregnant and thinking she can rebuild her life let alone take care of a new one. You know you're thinking it though you might not say it, I know this because I too wondered what she was thinking and what she was doing. And I am her friend and sister in Christ. I've discipled her for over two years and tried to be there for her during her walk in the world again.

Well, here she was on the phone talking about how she was finally getting all she ever wanted in life; a husband, child and home. She was "fat and broke and happier" than she'd ever been and she was rejoicing in the birth of her new son. She had plans in February to petition the court for custody of her oldest son, which was being supported by the case worker in Utah handling her son's case. She is soon to be reunited with him. She is experiencing the joys of communion with our Lord and is learning about the God of restoration we serve. Her new baby is a gift and she knows this. She believes God is giving her the life she's dreamed of because finally she is understanding who He is and what He wants to do in her life. She is finding a quiet, content life and she knows it is God at work in her life. She is finding faith and a joy that comes from a life of faith.

Hers is just one story of restoration and grace we are blessed to see each day. And while the holidays are a convenient time to give thanks to God for all He does for us, it is so fitting that during this time we can remind one another no matter our circumstances, thanks be to God who though while we were still sinners, died for us, ALL of us.

Amazing Grace

Mark and I have been through our share of "stuff". We've had our challenges and I would hazard a guess we would both admit that most of them we have brought on ourselves. It wasn't so long ago, both of us would have tried to change things, manipulate those around us and find a way, albeit an imperfect way around the fixes we'd found ourselves in. I'm not too proud to admit that as I stood outside my office that brisk January day, looking down at the arrest warrants the Sheriff's officers held in their hands, the one thought going through my head was "I can get out of this, think, Leslie, think. What do I do?"

Sadly enough in that moment, the thought wasn't a plea to God or a repentant confession. Rather it was another round of mental manipulation that would assure I could get out of this rocky situation. I sat in the police station, a small gold bricked room with a table and three uncomfortable chairs crammed in still thinking about how I could best deny any guilt and get back to work. Logic was escaping me, work already knew what I was accused of doing, they were instrumental in my arrest and I wasn't welcome back there. Machines had been put into motion that all the talking in the world would not get me out of, not my best con or fastest thinking. The two officers asked me questions and I pretended not to know a thing about what they were talking about, all the while amazed how they could almost trace my steps. They asked questions, I denied knowledge.

When days of denial turned into weeks of incarceration, I didn't have anywhere to turn. It's hard to turn to anyone when we are in denial of our part in any circumstance. It would take months for me to understand that turning to God means little if we aren't straight with Him. Repentance is a big part of our relationship with God. He already knows what we've done but He awaits an honest and repentant heart. Yet grateful am I that in the very instant we come clean, lean on Him in all things and accept His ways as best our hearts know how, He is there for us; working miracles in our lives and answering prayers.



I've often said I don't understand God and that holds true today. I served a 1 year state jail felony 2 for 1 in county jail (grace grace grace) after I got on my knees and gave myself to the Lord. Mark's drastic reduction on a second offense (there are folks in state jail serving time for a second DWI offense) is nothing short of a miracle. Grace is all over our lives and if nothing convinces someone, pure grace should! Mark and I were both guilty. We deserved much more than we got. God dealt with us gently. Mark may be smiling and confident (as he says) in God, for me, God still amazes me. When He takes what we do and turns into a gentle lesson taught by a loving Father, we can do nothing more than be in awe of His grace and love.

But it all starts with a repentant heart.

Mark often says, "God knows your heart," and he's right. He knows when we have come to that place we cannot handle, when we need love and when we need correction. He works things out perfectly and provides a means out of our own messes when we see no way out. He waits for moments in our lives when our will has cost us the most and He comes in to show us amazing grace and love.

For Mark and I, God is more than the lyrics in a song, His handiwork is alive in our lives. His ways are perfect and because of that, I can do nothing but give thanks and continuously worship Him. For there is only one truth in my life, a truth told in lyrics but evidence none the less of our loving God:

My chains are gone
I've been set free
My God, my Savior has ransomed me
And like a flood His mercy reigns
Unending love, Amazing grace.

(Amazing Grace - my chains are gone: Chris Tomlin)

Explosive blessings

Mark and I have been listening to Joel Osteen for most of this year; we record him on our DVR and when we have a chance to sit down together and relax, we queue up a few weeks messages and just enjoy his inspiring way of teaching and preaching. For the better part of this year, he has been talking about "God's explosive blessings" and Mark and I continually kid about waiting upon the Lord to see them come (and sometimes forgetting about the part where He sees to our daily needs).

When Mark and I left our former ministry we knew we were also leaving some financial strength behind and we would literally be starting from ground zero but we were prepared to trust God for provision and as you've read and watched, you know provision is exactly what God saw to in our first weeks. Yet, nothing really prepared us for what God decided to do next!

As you know, I attended a 1 day conference in Gatesville where I met some wonderful folks in Copperas Cove who might have some housing and we might want to get together on making this housing become a reality. We left things pretty loose and it was one of the calls I knew I wanted to follow up on.

Monday I set out in the afternoon to meet with Francie Robinson of Jesus is Love Outreach Ministries. She and her husband own two small six unit apartment houses that they've dreamed of turning into transitional housing. Francie and I seem to hit it right off and as we talked we knew we would be working hard for the Lord to give His newly released daughters a safe and warm place to live while they put their tattered lives back together.

We are on a whirlwind now.

Spirit House Ministries is please to announce the partnership with Jesus is Love Outreach Ministries to begin renovation and conversion of their wonderful apartments into a Christ centered women's transitional housing program in Copperas Cove, TX. We praise God for His abundant and EXPLOSIVE blessings at this time when Christians can come together in a unified way and provide for those Jesus has called us to serve.

Joel was right, God's plans for us are far beyond what we can see or imagine and while so many details have yet to be worked out, we can see a glimpse into the plan God has laid out for a few lives here in Central Texas. For now, we are basking in the explosive blessings that He has given us, a place to start the first of what we hope are many Spirit Filled Spirit Houses serving women coming out of prison and entering their new life in Christ!

Which door?

More and more I reflect on the time in jail and the day I walked out. I remember being led down the short hall from booking to the lobby and out to the front counter where one comes to jail to visit. I sat down on the small benches inside and looked around. The activity was familiar. It was just after five so family members were gathering to be escorted up to the visitation halls. But I just sat there watching and waiting for someone to tell me what to do.

In a few minutes I got up and went to the phone, dialing the number of Pastor Joy, hoping she was awaiting my release and my call. Then I sat back down on the bench. I was sure any moment someone would come along and walk me back to some unknown area, telling me I had no business being out there. I just sat. I had no idea how far away Joy lived so I couldn't begin to know when she would arrive, so I sat quietly. I watched the activity, wanting to move but so certain someone would yell my name and stop me in my tracks.

Slowly it came over me that I was free to go where I wanted and I could step outside to wait. No one was going to grab my arm or slap cuffs on my wrists. I had served my time and I was a free woman, as much a free woman as I could be on an extended period of 5 years probation. But I could walk outside without repercussion. I could walk out the dreaded door that led to freedom and a new life.

I have since found life to be much like that busy lobby with doors all around; walk through each one for different life experiences and outcomes. Some you have permission to walk through, some you would rather not walk through; but all of them are doors of choice. Months ago I made the choice to commit a crime. Months later, lives changed, I walked out a new door and into a new reality that was filled with faith, hope and Christ.

I had read in John 10:9 "Yes, I am the gate. Those who come in through me will be saved. Wherever they go, they will find green pastures."

That gate or door provides a new life in Christ that changes everything about the women who walked into jail in cuffs and out the front door as a saved sinner. I am ever mindful of His role and place in my life. I had tried for 46 years to open the doors I chose to open. It was time to watch for the open doors that God created for me. Living on my own volition damned me to a life of fear and uncertainty. Living for God front and center made my life choices so much easier.

I will always remember that day, and I am reminded of it each time I have the honor to pick up a woman on her release day. I am reminded the fear and uncertainty that washes over each face as the day comes when the gates swing wide and the world is again beckoning. Often I hear the plea in letters long before they see that day, what had become familiar in the regimented schedule to a life of choices again...oh the fear! And with each letter I share with my sisters in white the joy of choice when Christ drives our lives.

Always I will remember, and always with Christ by my side; we share the joy He intended.

A busy Saturday

Not often have I attended a conference or meeting that I felt was fruitful and informative and I've sat through dozens in my career.

Saturday was totally different. I attended a wonderfully organized and yet intimately informal gathering of Texas prison ministries put together by the Restorative Justice Ministries Network. Emmett Solomon, Anita Parrish and others brought together a group of dynamic ministries, representatives of the Texas Department of Criminal Justice, and others interested in the many facets of serving and working with those in prison in Texas.

As a relative newbie in the area of ministry, I heard testimony after testimony of faith and grace spreading through the many men and women serving and being served by the dedicated folks in ministry. As a seasoned non-profit professional, I was impressed with the many folks who took time out of their lives to update us all on regional and state concerns as it affects this unique ministry focus.

I look forward to all the connections and friendships that began on Saturday and I know God is moving in all of our ministries to reach out further and further to those we wish to serve. I could not know, some two plus years ago as I sat at a steel table in F5 of the Williamson County Jail that I would ever have the opportunity to function as a professional woman again. I only know that God has so restored my life and I want to share that same hope with the many women currently in prison or jail.

The warmth and care and love that was expressed to many of us there at the conference, and yes, there were several of us ex-offenders in attendance, was amazing. Yet everyone who took time out of their weekend to gather for a unified purpose I believe was energized and educated.

I am anxious to get started on a new regional conference in the Travis/Williamson County area and will keep everyone updated as things progress. What more could we ask except that God intervene and provide new opportunities for growth and collaboration among His many servants. I am grateful for this chance to expand my knowledge. I am grateful for the challenging work He has provided for me. More than anything I am grateful that while I was still a sinner, He died for me and so I am saved!

And that message is one that needs to be told to our sisters and brothers in white; therefore we gladly give up our Saturdays, Sundays and many days to follow in order to insure that no one goes without at least hearing the truth, His truth, His life saving, eternity impacting truth.

Abundance and chicken broth

The house is filling with wonderful aromas, chicken is slowly boiling on the stove, bubbling its way to jerked chicken and homemade chicken stock. White northern beans are simmering with bacon, celery and onions; all they need is some warm cornbread. Apples are cooking down again into another apple crisp (we just didn't have enough last weekend) and I am again reminded how loved I am! How wonderful is the Lord who seems always to bring out my creativity in the kitchen when we are so broke and without funds for the weekend yet a banquet am I preparing.

I am often humbled by God as I lament some turmoil only to see His wonderful hand at work in my life. Today is no different. Mark woke early to start a project that I was to complete and get to the PO by 5 PM today; but once I woke, we knocked it out, removing the need for me to leave my cozy nest today at all! Mark and God both know how I often hate to leave my house, loving the joy of working at home and feel all safe and nutured in my own surroundings. Once that was out the door, I opened the pantry to begin the process of making sustaining food for us this weekend as our plans are another working weekend. In short order I was able to fill the house with the homemade smells of Grandma's cooking (thanks Grandma! for teaching me to cook and love doing it) giving me the perfect backdrop to get my real work started.

Mark is off to his full time job but his head is turned toward home; he too wishes we both worked out of the house as we love the cozy place we've created. Sometimes I'm afraid we'd become hermits as much as we love just being at home and working and sharing our time and faith through letters and writing and our work. I feel a bliss at this day that I have to give over to God. I am doing the work I love, reaching out to women who have become my family and dear friends. I am cooking and enjoying music and reading and learning. All the things I love to do and the Lord has provided me a way to live a life that can only be called abundant.

Sure, Mark and I are often pinching pennies and often trying to balance the income with the outgo. Sure, we sometimes have to forgo a fun event or decline an invitation. But when I feel blessed, when I have allowed Him to open my eyes so fully to see the abundance in my life despite the lack of funds then I have to share the wonder. Finding contentment in what He provides brings Him great joy. My Lord is pleased when He can see the pleasure boil over in my heart, spilling warmth all around me.

I love the smell of home cooking and the warmth of a cozy footies on my feet. I love having work to keep my mind alert and hobbies that make me smile. I am overjoyed with my Lord today. He loves me and on days like today I can see His love fully active in my life. And in these moments I am reminded His grace is enough for me. He does provide all I ever need. Even in times of draught, He works in me to adjust my needs to His ways. He is always present in my life and He can bring me through any darkness.

My blessings are to be counted and my ability to see His work in my life is the grace He provides. Joy in the everyday is the wondrous ways my Father often sees to my needs and I am humbled and content in Him. While the chicken stock cooks down and the beans continue to simmer, I can see my Lord and share this time with Him. When He takes our lives and puts on the heat, cooking us down to what we really are and what we really need, He creates in us something truly unique, something that cannot be rushed or imitated. This life He has created for me could not have been rushed either, for too early and I would not have appreciated it as I do now and too late, I might have not been able to see it as clearly as I do today.

Yes His grace is enough and because I trust in that, He gives me so much more! Glory to Him for He gives me chicken broth that makes my house smell wonderful and my heart remember.

Honesty

I walked out to the visit and faced the last person I ever expected to see or wanted to see in that time in my life. My father stood on the other side of double steel doors and glass, peering through no doubt waiting to see what he couldn't imagine, his daughter in yellows behind glass. Inside I wanted to refuse the visit, turn around and go back to my bunk. He had flown 800 miles at his own expense to come face to face with my reality. He came to check on my daughter and assist my son with all that was on his young shoulders, and finally to face me and say all the things we'd never said to one another. Outside he no doubt wanted the same, turn around and pretend this wasn't real. The unwavering truth was here. I was in jail and he was staring through the visitation view window in unbelief. Of course, I had no mirror, no make up, no flattering clothing; not even a hair brush. I can't imagine how I looked but I know it wasn't what he was used to seeing when he sat across from his daughter.

We slammed each other, first he with the information from sources outside then me with the other side of the life that had come unraveled. We flailed at one another. We ranted and raved. We told truths we'd never been willing to speak. We held nothing back.

Then as we sat back, worn out emotionally and spent, he said what I had waited my lifetime to hear, "You are my daughter, I will always love you no matter what."

In the end I know today that what brought out the words I'd waited to hear had more to do with our honesty in that moment than anything else and today as I approach my heavenly Father I also know that my honesty with Him always gets His full attention and outpouring of love. Nothing means more than the real heart showing through. In truth, honesty was never my strong suit so coming clean with my Dad was not high on my list. Learning that nothing is hidden from God is a freeing lesson that allows the life giving relationship full bloom. While I may have lived my life hidden behind a clouded veil from family, friends and community, my life was never unknown or cloudy to God. He not only watched my life but knew its twists and turns before He chose to create me and therefore each breath I take is part of His plan for me. Despite myself, He chose me to be one of His children whom He would always love!

Why we cannot believe that kind of love exists for us is a mystery but when God finally unveils that wondrous truth to us, nothing is more warm and inviting than His Fatherly embrace and love.

I have been gifted with two loving Fathers and that makes me double blessed. I am fully aware that not all are so fortunate but even in the stark reality of some lives, our Heavenly Father is there to make up the loss of our earthly parents or family. It is reassuring to know that despite ourselves, our secrets and dark moments He is there waiting and listening for our call. No matter who you are, where you live, how much or how little your family...there is an abundance of love that is our inheritance.

My honesty brought me the love I'd waited for and my continued honesty keeps that love close and growing. I would never have known any of this had I not been brought to my knees in honest tears and repentance but God knew in my own time I would have more love than I had ever known. I love my fathers. Honest.

A shake down

I sat on my bunk, as I did most days, watching her across the aisle. She was playing a one deck, handheld game she called "jail solitaire". She had been here for 326 days "fighting her case" and she was accustomed to being "bunked up." Everything about jail was familiar to her as she was rounding out almost a year of time. She flipped the cards three by three from front to back, sitting indian style on her lower bunk without a care to the chaos the guards were inflicting.

Down the way, on the first set of bunks I listened to the squeals and cursing of inmates as guards did their shake down. Mattresses were overturned and flung to the floor. Property boxes were dumped out on the steel bunk. Boxes of letters, cards and paperwork; once folded neatly were scattered about to be gathered later once the guard gave permission. They were searching for something. I could hear the chaos, the anger steaming up from the floor and billowing under the cut out walls that separated one aisle from another. As the guards made their way down the aisle and came to the head of the next, women filed out into the main walkway to wait.

Sam* sat quietly, playing her cards without a care. She hummed to herself, flipping card after card with an orchestrated purpose. I watched her, then looked at the women in the walkway, slapping their legs or throwing fists in the air as something was upended or thrown into the trash sack drug along behind a guard.

Shake downs happened about once a week. Sometimes because something was heard. Sometimes because of a snitch. Sometimes I think the guards just needed something to do. No matter, they always brought a tense mood, disgruntled inmates and self righteous guards in the end. This was homemade chaos for the purpose of chaos and generally produced very little. Oh perhaps a label wrapped stick pen made stronger and thus easier to write with because of the added stiffness; maybe a commissary sheet, its heavy paper cut out to be a stencil for card making. Seldom anything of any real significance. Contrived "cases" created for paperwork and busyness and to make a guard look alert and on top of her pod.

Always it instilled a feeling of "us against them". The inmate against guard. The system against the criminal. It reminded us that our lives were theirs and not ours. We had involuntarily given ourselves over to a group of people who unlike us had been caught in their indiscretions and were now paying an earthly price. We were no longer children of God but groups of people divided by attitudes and actions and bars. And it was in this involuntary state of inmate status that I grew to know the Lord and understand voluntary submission and service to Him. The State may have garnered my involuntary submission and because of this they received in return an involuntary cooperation. I did not seek them out and I did not always fall into alignment with their rules and agendas.

But through this involuntary submission I learned a great deal about the value of voluntary submission. I learned about the value of the gift of choice that God has granted each of us. In His plan for our lives He willingly stepped aside so that our relationship to Him could be one of choice. Whatever involvement we would have with Him would be because we chose to voluntarily submit to His ways and His love and in return receive His gift of salvation. Therefore, submission becomes a two way street of choice and redemption.

God forced nothing upon me. His agenda was based on His love for me. His justice perfect. His correction without flaws. His gift all I ever needed. While He might conduct a "shake down" in my life as I submit more fully to Him each day, I do not cringe as He throws things out for His purpose in doing so is not for His entertainment but for my safety and security in my future with Him. There is no chaos or randomness in His ways. There is no arrogance or haughtiness. He needs none. But rather, as I voluntarily place myself in His care, I am privileged to learn from my maker, the wonders of life and the wonders of His love.

He tosses my property box, clears my mattress and leaves for me the comfort of His arms tonight. And that makes for a very balanced relationship indeed.

Mindless pursuits

Sometimes its easy to live a mindless life with daily schedules, grueling work hours and to do lists that never end. We focus on the here and now. We check things off our list and move on to the next task. We drive to work and suddenly wonder about the highway we didn't see the whole way there. We eat dinner and by bedtime can't remember what we had. We click through tv stations and land on something that doesn't tax our brains or force us to reason. We lay down knowing tomorrow we will rise, start the day and the same mindless things will occupy our time.

I feel that way sometimes. I stare at paperwork, check off a list of must dos and can dos and will dos. I notice the clock and hours have passed. Sometimes Mark will ask me "what did you do today?" and I wonder, not really fast with an answer. I know I was busy.

I'm reading a letter from Kissy and she is anxious and excited about her upcoming release.

I remember the days counting down to my release; the plans, the thoughts of tomorrow, the arrangements to be made and the lists that have to be checked off. Yet, on my release day all I could do was sit in a sort of half daze. I walked out of the jail and the town I knew so well looked different. The evening sky was blue and clear. I hadn't seen the sky in months. Sitting in the van on the way to Joy's house I was on the phone with my Dad, leisurely talking and not rushed to get through a $5.00 a minute call. I watched familiar streets pass by my window. I took repeated deep breaths as we drove toward her house. In my haze I knew there would be no 4:30 meds call and no chow call at 5:30, I could sleep undisturbed and wake when my body had stored up some rest. I took in everything around me and it was a cloudy, sort of dream like movie in slow motion. I was fully in the moment and fully aware of the grace He had shown me through six months out of the world. I wanted this day to last forever as I just looked at everything as though I was seeing it for the first time.

The next morning we woke by 8 am in order to get to the courthouse and Megan's court date in hopes of assisting with her release. We were busy with preparing bibles for the delivery to the jail that afternoon and Joy still had several women to see before the day was done so I went into court so Megan could see a familiar face in the stranger crowd of the small court room. It wasn't long before my days of laying on my bunk, slowly reading scripture and spending hours in prayer were replaced again with lists, and to dos and schedules and tasks.

I hear Kissy's excitement and I know her desire to return to something normal and I wonder. I wonder if God intended us to rush through our days and spend so little time in prayer and attend to so many mindless tasks that we forget to pray or read or spend time alone with Him.

We are returned to a tv full of sights and sounds and temptations. We are returned to busyness for busyness sake. We quickly become wrapped up in life and plans and lists that it becomes a Sunday of Him and a week of us and it stirs my heart to know He intended we have something so much more. He created us to walk with Him in gardens and fix our minds on what is just and true and right.

It's 5:10 PM and I watch the clock turn minute by minute, frantically trying to finish this post before rushing out the door yet I rejoice. I am headed to bible study; a wonderful study with other women in my church and my busyness is the business of Him. I drive with purpose and thought. I fix my mind on what is just and true and right. I fix my thoughts on Him.

I have luxury in my life as I can schedule my days and monitor where my mind is taken. I am not wrapped up in the business of the world but can take moments when I need to in order to remember that our lives are not mindless ticking of time clocks but rather orchestrated destinies that He has given us and I walk calmly through my day, no matter how busy knowing it is always within my grasp to look at Him and talk with Him and share Him with others. That is luxury indeed.

I too have the mindless pursuits in my life; but because God is a grace filled and merciful God, He allows us to return to Him whenever we need, want or desire Him. He let's our minds drift and gives us the gift of choice to return to His pursuits. Some days are better than others but in those moments when our minds drift to places we often go, I think I'll be more mindful to fill my head with Him and if I travel down the highway and forget where I am, at least I'll be with Him and not some list somewhere.

He is my mindful pursuit.

Isaiah 62:2

"...And you will be given a new name,
by the Lord's own mouth..."

Mark and I have done alot of praying and talking and dreaming and listening. I've talked to others in the community whom I've come to know well, other ministries and people that I believe could help me focus more clear on our path.

Sometimes walking in God's will means staying the course. Sometimes it means veering off the course you set and listening to a still small voice inside. This time it meant listening to others and watching Him begin the new work.

Mark and I have left FFSM and have created a new ministry; one that we hope glorifies God and works for the good of His chosen.

Spirit House Ministries was born last week and already we see His grace on what we want to do!

We've received our first contribution from community members; $500 to help create the legal entity and the IRS paperwork. This gesture alone makes us know we are headed in the right direction. These are not spendthrifts that throw their money around; they are savvy business men and women who give careful thought to whom they give and for what purposes.

We feel blessed and validated.

But even more important than this gesture of confidence was the gift we received from a group of male inmates at the Jester III unit this weekend.

Seven men, led by a man whom Mark and I have corresponded with and ministered to for over a year now sent us 60 US postage stamps out of their own personal commissary! They tithed to us! Several of the men involved wrote us notes and letters expressing their desire to support our efforts and to encourage us to continue helping their sisters in Christ. They reached into their own coffers, limited as they are and blessed us with their wealth. Each stamp represents a woman's name called at mail call, each stamp represents a sister in white who is seeking and loving the Lord.

This was no small gesture. Sure to the outside it is only $26.40 but it was all they had. So I wonder of all us out here who have $26.40, what are we willing to give up in order to reach out. Mark and I look at our pocketbooks and often decide against a dinner out to buy stamps or envelopes or printer ink. But tonight, while I'm mixing up some hamburger helper and wishing it was t-bone steak, I'll remember I could give the hamburger up too in order that a life be shared.

As I stare at those stamps on my desk, I am humbled. Living outside their walls, surely it is easier for me to do for these women, easier than what these men were willing to do and did!

So to Frank, Dale, Lee, Homero, Anselmo, Dave and Miguel - thank you for reminding me what it means to give and how giving should be with a joyful heart no matter its amount!