Momma

     These are the shoes of my momma.  They have worked hard all of her life.  They have walked in faith.  They have walked with strength and they have walked to extend grace.

     Mom stayed home while she was raising us.  She read every book Dad read while he was in seminary so that they wouldn't grow apart.  She started college after we were well on our own educational path.  In her 40's she felt called into the ministry and I watched her continually serve the hurting in society.

     In 1997 she started, "Woman At the Well."  Women were being released from prison at two or three in the morning without any money and without a place to go.  She had become friends with women in prison as she led a Bible study there.  They were real women that needed the opportunity to begin their second chance successfully.  Since she began the program, over 300 women have graduated from the program with the opportunity to receive an education and even start a career path.

     One of my favorite stories about Mom was when she was a serving a church in inner city San Antonio.  A gang of boys had broken some bottles and were about to attack a little boy with the broken glass.  She ran out of the church and stood between the gang and the little boy.  With her hands on her hips she said, "You will have to go through me first!"

      Mom has always had the faith to do whatever God asked.  She has always had the strength to do what was right and she has the grace to extend to those in need.  She has been a powerful example in my walk.

Angel Wings

Silently he entered,

Loudly the prison doors slammed,

He never thought it would happen

That he would take the life of a fellow man.

His days will soon be numbered,

Either many or very few,

Somehow he must face this tragedy,

A nightmare he never knew.

His cell was cold and empty

With no escape from the day's events

His anguish may last forever

From his few moments of pain and anger.

In the midst of his silence she enters,

With a Bible and a heart of mercy.

The compassion in her eyes brings hope

To a child in the cell and body of a man.

Behind the glass between them

She sees a mischievous boy whose mischief

Grew to sin, whose sin grew to hatred

Yet behind his is an angel,

Just waiting to give him wings.

The woman sees it differently-

A boy whose sin cannot be erased by man.

For all mankind is damaged,

By the movement of a trigger in hand.

Yet with faith and determination,

She reaches the souls of the lost.

For she never met  a boy too guilty,

For the forgiveness of the Lord's cross.

Deana Boggess

February 27, 1995