It was one of the strangest compliments I’d ever received. Pastor Sapp pointed at me.   “Spencer’s an example of an average person living out their faith in prison.”   I never thought that being called average would be such a compliment, but in that moment, I understood. I was genuinely honored. I think it’s the perfect way to describe what it is we aim to do at HeartBound.   You see, HeartBound has developed a model for the spiritual and moral rehabilitation of the incarcera

“He did it. He finally did it.”   We were laughing so hard my stomach started to hurt.   I looked around. We stood in the prison garden, the garden we’d begun nearly a year ago. The garden that was once nothing and had since become a place of so much joy, laughter, and conversation.   Our motley crew. A mix of Black, white, Latino, and Asian men. Some in their twenties, some in their fifties, all somewhere in-between.   It was our last class outside before we let the garden g

Cassius [name changed to protect privacy] sat in the back of the room. His already small frame looked even smaller as he sunk into the well-worn chair. He glanced around the room, eyes shifty and nervous. I had to call out his name several times to get his attention. When he finally answered, his voice was a hoarse whisper.   Every other Tuesday evening HeartBound leads a men’s group at the Atlanta Transitional Center. The topics vary from financial literacy to science to wha

Robert wouldn’t leave me alone.   He was like a shadow, following me closely as I moved through the garden. Every time I stopped to lean over and check a plant, he leaned to check. Every time I stopped to talk to a student, he hung back, trying to act like he couldn’t hear our conversation. I was getting a little annoyed.   I finally stopped and turned to him.   “Robert, what’s on your mind today?”   His face drew uncomfortably close to mine. “Spence, you know I’ve been doing

Their eyes grew big like saucers.   “Mr. Spence, you want us to do what ?”   I told the boys that they had heard me correctly. 100 things. Not 10, not 50, but 100 .   Moans filled our classroom. Eyes rolled.   Torey sat in the back, smiling. He stood up and encouraged them in his thick Latino accent.   “When I was a juvie just like you Spence gave me the same assignment. I thought I couldn’t do it. But I did. And you can too.”   I thanked him. I thought back to those early da

Juan leapt in the air.   Rapidly descending from above him was a small, green, plastic ball.   He cranked his arm backwards, then whirled it forward.   The racket ignited with the ball.   The ball shot forward, cleared the net, then rocketed down. It grazed the concrete just inside the boundary line, then skidded out of bounds.   George had read Juan’s spike perfectly. He was in position and ready. He swung his paddle through the air, a clean forehand.   He whiffed.   I calle

6 AM Wednesday morning.   As I get older, I become more of a morning person. I make my coffee, crack the door open to let in some fresh air, and listen to the world spin outside.   Outside my apartment, there’s a beautiful Japanese Maple. This year I watched its leaves transform from dark red to bright gold. It was glorious.   Every holiday season, HeartBound prepares Thanksgiving and Christmas meals for our students. These special meals are a wonderful time to bring everyone

The last guests were filtering out the doors.  All was peaceful, our first slow moment of the day.   Then, a loud cry from down the hallway.   I dropped the box I was carrying and turned towards the noise. A woman was hunched over, hand over her mouth, crying. Andrea stood next to her. What was happening? I looked at Grace with alarm.   “That’s her in the photo, Spencer.”   At this woman’s feet was an oversized photo printed on foam board. The photo showed a woman singing in

Let me share with you how I know that we’re doing something right.   Roadblocks are getting thrown up left and right at the facilities we work in.   You see, Evil is trying to stop Good. But it won’t succeed.   I was tempted to list and explain every roadblock, a sort of “airing of grievances.” I wanted to complain and show you just how unfair we’ve been treated lately.   But I won’t. I’ll just tell you straight up - working inside prisons has not been easy lately.   Not that

We wish you could’ve been with us at Whitworth Women’s Facility—but in a way, you were. You’ve been with us all along.   Grace, Andrea, I, and HeartBound board members Lucy Fugate and Lara Woods gathered to celebrate the third graduating class of the seminary program. In case you didn’t know, HeartBound funds the first and only seminary program for incarcerated women in the state of Georgia. To date, 16 women have received associate degrees and 11 have received bachelor’s deg

Today, I want to tell you about Tristan.   Tristan and I did not get off on the right foot.   I write to tell you about how far he’s come and what he’s accomplished. His story is one of the countless stories we encounter time and time again at HeartBound Ministries, thanks to your support, prayers, and a lot of help from God.   The first time I met Tristan, he was not happy to see me. He wore a scowl on his face.   I instinctually knew that it was his first day in “big boy pr