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Meet the Scribblers

Nita Brady, founder of Beyond the Walls- One of our many centers/organizations we provide The WingMan Book Program to, describes her experience with the program.


Over 20 years ago, Nita Brady started the faith-based support group "Beyond the Walls". 

A special support group for the children of the Incarcerated... 

Her Mission was: To provide strategies and emotional support to vulnerable children who have family members with incarceration and or drug addiction issues and to help these children cope with current stressors related to these issues to prevent behaviors and choices that could lead to their own future incarceration or drug use. 

Nita, having a son in prison--she began the group, starting with one other mother. Over the years, the group has expanded to include wives, sisters, girlfriends, and grandmothers. Despite all of their differences (age, background, cultural, walks of life), they all have one thing in common: they have a loved one locked up. It is a special group with a strong bond. Emotional and spiritual support is given and received--not only at meetings, but in between times as well. Information is shared; encouragement abounds; empowerment is experienced in a real way. As Nita was seeking God about starting the group, feeling overwhelmed, she prayed, "Lord, I don't know anything about support groups... I don't even know what I would call it...." The answer came immediately, "I want you to call the group Beyond the Walls, because My Spirit can go beyond the walls of any prison and minister in ways you could never imagine; likewise, My Spirit can go beyond the prison walls to minister to the families in ways you cannot imagine."


Click Here to see Videos on the Scribblers

Witness the Disease of Addiction

This is where the "Rubber Meets The Road!"

Prepare yourself to experience the true tragedy of what the disease of addiction is doing to all of us.  This includes both "the addicts", and the rest of us,  "the victims" who have to live on a daily basis with the "addict in our life."  Get ready to see the pain, frustration, sadness and tragedy of what this terrible disease is doing to us, our friends, our families and the fabric of our society.  This terrible disease of addiction touches all of us on this planet, somehow, someway.  Here are the stories of the survivors.  

Click Here to see the Stories

Inspiration from the niece of two of our authors: Christine Thomas Doran and Nita Brady

“Heaven’s Light”

By Emily Rowelson Elliot

I sat alone in darkness,

My body cold and bare.

And contemplated as I sat

Just how I’d gotten there.

As I recall, the night was pitch,

The ground was cool and damp.

And not the faintest flicker of light

Shown in my camp.

In my world, all was dark,

But it was not always this way.

Ironically, it was the light

That led me so astray.

Not the natural light of day,

But artificial rays.

Unearthly beams that lit the night,

And made it bright as day.

The worldly glows illuminated

Celebrating in the night.

I was awed, engulfed and captivated by superficial light.

Fluorescent strips and tiny bulbs

Of little colored gems,

Twinkling lights and blinding lights of burning halogens.

They scorched my soul,

They seared my heart,

But this I could not see.

For the glow was too entrancing of neon ecstasy.

I cavorted and I reveled

In nothing seeming wrong.

Transfixed, I swayed in motion to night’s hypnotic song.

Then, I began to notice

Things were not as they had been.

For the lights so bright

That pierced the night

Began to slowly dim.

At that moment, fear crept in, I began to think the worst,

As the lights diminished

And all the crowds dispersed.

Then, popping sounds erupted,

Of bulbs of bursting glass.

I wondered as I stood alone,

How long this would last.

Electric noise it crackled,

Static filled the air.

And lights faded one by one, as I stood watching there.

And sorrow welled within my soul,

As I faced my greatest doubt.

That lights made by the hands of man,

Are sure to all burn out.

Then at once, all was dark,

And not a soul was found.

The blackness of the night so thick,

I could scarcely see the ground.

All was cold, and frigid winds pierced my skin so bare.

And aimlessly I wandered,

In darkness and despair.

Grappling with my arms outstretched,

Tormented by the fright

Of predatory creatures

That lingered in the night.

I surely knew that my fear

Let out a scent so fresh,

To these hungry beasts

That roamed the night

Who’d gladly eat my flesh.

And as I sat and waited

For my impending doom,

And comforted by the notion, it would all be over soon.

I sat upon the ground and wept, despair it settled in.

So,I raised my knees up to my chest,

And began to sing a hymn.

Recalling then, the song,

Deep in my memory.

I sang the words of how One came to save a wretch like me.

Then, a tiny flicker,

No greater than a pin,

Began to grow much larger,

The more I sang this hymn.

It became my mantra,

And then a final plea,

To save me from this blackness that settled over me.

Then, the light began to grow,

As one I’d never seen.

Illuminated radiantly

Over my entire being.

Though I’d lived in light

I’d thought brighter than the sun,

This Light I was now experiencing,

Revealed what I’d become.

And gasped aloud at first the sight

Of myself revealed.

In Heaven’s Light

I was filthy, torn and ragged,

And maggots ate my skin.

Decaying and disheveled,

And reeked of rotting sin.

I knew I was in the presence of life, and light, and Love,

And determined this could only come

From Lights from up above.

I begged and sobbed and pleaded,

As shame swept over me.

When I found I’d lived my life in light,

Yet still could never see.

And I knew that all would be the same,

This wretch I’d come to be,

Until I allowed Heaven’s Light to wash right over me.

So, I bathed, I basked

In His righteousness,

I was cleansed from head to toe.

And the blackness of my heart,

Was now as white as snow.

Now, I place my faith in Heaven,

In Christ who gave me sight.

For all will live in darkness,

Until washed in Heaven’s Light.