Loving One Another

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 degrees. Some have since been released, while others now serve as field ministers at women’s prisons across the state, putting their degrees and faith into practice.

Our seminary model is inspired by Burl Cain, former warden of Louisiana State Penitentiary, better known as Angola. Once dubbed “the bloodiest prison in America”, Angola experienced a dramatic transformation after introducing a seminary program. “We went from beatings to Bible studies,” Burl said. That same redemptive shift is now happening at Whitworth.

To make the graduation even more special, we coordinated a surprise with Whitworth’s staff. Lorrie, a seminary graduate who was released in March 2023, would return as the guest speaker.

As Lorrie stepped out of her car, several of the guards who once oversaw her confinement rushed to hug her.

A few minutes later, Lorrie stood at the podium, addressing an audience of graduates, their families, Georgia Department of Corrections staff, and New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary representatives. The rising junior class and prison choir were also there to cheer on the graduates.

The gym was stiflingly hot, but everyone was focused as Lorrie began:

“These walls shaped me, refined me, prepared me. What I learned here is that when God redeems a story, He goes all in. When I left here in March of 2023, I had the clothes on my back and $35 on a pre-paid card. I went from wishing and hoping I would be heard to speaking my story. I’m here to tell you today that your story matters. Know that you’re covered in prayer and don’t wait till you’re free to start your journey. These diplomas are more than paper; they are about transformation. If God can use me, know that He can use you. The world thinks hope dies here, but I’m here to tell you that here, hope is reborn.”

Lorrie quoted Romans 12:2 and 5:8, Jeremiah 29:11, and Hebrews 13:3. She shared updates on her fellow graduates: one now works for Wayfair, another bought a home, one owns her own business, and one just became a mom. One woman’s daughter, once a Wiccan, was baptized last week. Two graduates are pursuing higher education. Every story was a reminder: God is still in the business of restoration.

Next, Olivia, chosen by her class to speak on their behalf, approached the microphone and spoke softly but powerfully: “God has us here for a reason. Our mistakes are evidence of our humanity. God has opened doors for us. We’re not who we used to be. This program is evidence that the body of Christ works together to help itself.”

Then, former Governor Nathan Deal—now 82, sharp and composed—took the stage. Nearly every speaker before him had quoted Scripture. He began with this:

“It’s nice to quote Scripture. The Pharisees and Sadducees could quote it endlessly.”

“Jesus said there is one great commandment: Love one another.”

He paused. His voice broke. Tears welled in his eyes. The gym fell silent. I swallowed hard to keep from crying.

“They will know you are my disciples by the way you love. You must love your enemies—and ladies, I know you’ve had enemies.”

I can’t remember much of what he said after that. I was trying too hard not to cry.

After the degrees were conferred, the graduates stood in line, waiting to be embraced by their families. Children tugged at their mothers’ mortarboard tassels. One woman’s ex-husband was there to show his support.

Toward the back of the gym, I noticed Governor Deal lingering quietly. I watched as he approached the graduates and shook each of their hands.

Georgia’s 82nd Governor and a former congressman shaking hands with women in prison. Not for the press, not for publicity, but because he knew something about these women – he knew they were women of value, prized by their Creator.

Because you give—through prayer, volunteering, and financial support—this seminary program exists. The state doesn’t fund it. You do. You’ve helped build spiritual houses that will stand for generations. You’ve given these women not just an education, but a second chance.

So yes, you were there. You’ve been there all along.

And now, we hope you got a little glimpse of what you’ve helped build.

Thank you for caring and investing in these women. God bless you.

Spencer