The Day My Why Walked Out the Door and I Decided to Stay

Feel Good Friday | Legacy in Motion Series

One year and sixteen days.

That is how long one of my closest friends served at Eddie Warrior Correctional Center. She walked in on July 8, 2025, and she walked out on July 24, 2026. And on Monday, July 7th -- the first Monday of every month is our visit day -- I sat in that room with her one final time before her release. Not as her friend on the outside. As someone who had been showing up inside those walls every single month because of her.

She was my reason for going. And now my reason is on the outside.

I want to tell you how that felt, and I want to tell you what happened in that room in July, because it was unlike any visit we have had before.

How Legacy in Motion Started

When one of my closest friends received her sentence July 8, 2025, I did not know what to do with that. I just knew I was not going to do nothing.

I went to the Oklahoma Department of Corrections and got certified and qualified to volunteer. I had a vision for a program called Legacy in Motion -- movement, mindset, scripture, practical habits -- but I kept hitting walls. And then I found Lisa Wright and Freedom Ministries, and she opened the door and let me come in and serve alongside her.

That was the beginning.

Since then, our team has grown. Julie Wallace completed her DOC certification and joined us. Camille Stottlemyre, a fellow REALTOR here in Tulsa, came on board. Courtney Drescher rounded out our volunteer team. Lisa, Julie, and I have been speaking together, building something month by month, watching these women show up and engage in ways that still catch me off guard.

And here is something I did not see coming.

We now have a band and a choir at Eddie Warrior. A woman convicted of murder, serving a life sentence, is the leader and drummer of the band. I want you to sit with that for a second. Because I am still sitting with it every time I walk into that room and the music starts.

Walking in and hearing real, live music changes the atmosphere entirely. It changes me a little, too.

There is one more detail I have to share before we get to July. The very first time I walked through those doors as an approved volunteer, I had no idea that the visit fell on my friend's birthday. She did not know I had been approved. I walked into that room and she saw me -- and the look on her face is something I doubt I will ever forget. That moment is why I kept pushing through every wall, every delay, every piece of paperwork. That look told me it was worth it.

July Was Different

I knew going in that this would be the last visit with my friend in that capacity. She would be releasing on July 24th, and while I will continue to serve at Eddie Warrior, everything was shifting. The person who was my original reason for showing up was about to become someone I could call on the phone again, someone I could meet for coffee, someone living her life on the outside.

That knowledge sat with me the whole morning and on the way to serve.

There were approximately fifty women in the room that day. And for the first time, instead of coming in with a full agenda and a prepared talk, we decided to ask them what they needed from us. We passed out surveys.

We asked the women to tell us what topics mattered most to them, what questions they were sitting with, what they actually wanted us to address. Because here is what we had been learning over months of showing up: these women do not have much say in anything. Their days are structured by someone else. Their choices are limited. Their voices are often the last thing anyone asks for. So we asked.

What came back was honest and heavy and human. They wanted to talk about forgiveness -- real forgiveness, the kind that does not come easy. They asked about acceptance, about clarity on how to move forward when you cannot change what happened. They asked the question that I think most of us have asked at some point: why does God let bad things happen to good people.

One survey stopped me cold. A woman wrote about finding out that someone close to her had died. She grieved that loss inside those walls, with no way to pick up a phone and call anyone to verify it, no way to get answers. Two weeks later she found out it was not true. The person was alive. She had grieved something that never happened, alone, in there, with nowhere to put any of it. I read that and just sat with it for a minute.

These women are not living in a vacuum. They are feeling everything the rest of us feel, with far fewer resources to process it.

Julie, Lisa, and I all spoke that evening. We did not try to tie everything up neatly. Some of those survey questions do not have clean answers, and we were not going to pretend they did. What we could offer was honesty, scripture, and the kind of presence that says I see you and I am not leaving.

Something in the Water

Earlier this year I challenged the women to choose a song for the year. One they could listen to whenever they needed inspiration or a reminder of who they were becoming. The thing is -- I had not found my own song yet. Not until this month.

I shared with them in July that I had finally found it. Something in the Water by Carrie Underwood had been following me through 2026, and the line that kept landing was this: and now I am changed, and now I am stronger, there must have been something in the water.

That lyric means something specific to me. It is about environment. It is about what gets inside you when you are not paying attention.

You have probably heard the idea that you are the sum of the five people you spend the most time with. There is real research behind that. The people around you shape your language, your habits, your expectations, your ceiling. When you level up your circle, your life tends to follow. When you stay in circles that are stuck, it is very hard to move.

That dynamic does not disappear inside a correctional facility. If anything, it is more concentrated. The women at Eddie Warrior can choose to spend their time around anger and bitterness, or they can choose to spend it around women who are doing the work, asking the hard questions, showing up voluntarily to talk about forgiveness and purpose.

That choice is still theirs. And it matters more than most people realize. What pours into you eventually pours out of you. That is true in here and out there.

My Why Is on the Outside Now

My closest friend walked out on July 24th. One year and sixteen days after she walked in. And that is worth celebrating. She is out. She is free. She has people who love her on the other side of those doors, and I am one of them.

I will be honest with you. I do not entirely know yet what it looks like to keep going back without her there. She was the reason I got certified. She was the reason I pushed through every wall and every delay. She was sitting in that room the first time I ever walked through those doors -- on her birthday, not knowing I had been approved -- and the look on her face told me everything I needed to know about why this mattered.

But here is what I do know. Fifty women handed me a survey this month and trusted us with their hardest questions. A band played. A choir sang. Julie, Lisa, and I stood in that room together and spoke truth to women who are doing the real work of becoming, inside walls that most people never think about.

That is not a reason to stop. That is every reason to keep going.

The program is evolving because the women told us how to make it better. The team is growing because the right people keep saying yes. And my why did not disappear when my friend walked out. It just got bigger. It is now the fifty women in that room, and the ones who will be there next month, and the ones who will walk out one day and need to know that someone showed up for them when it was hard.

If you have ever felt called to serve in a capacity that felt too complicated to access, I want you to know that the walls are real but they are not final. Find the door. Find the Lisa Wright in your world who will let you come in alongside her and start somewhere. You do not have to have the whole program figured out before you begin. You just have to show up.

If you want to learn more about volunteer opportunities with the Oklahoma Department of Corrections, you can start at https://oklahoma.gov/doc/volunteer.html. And if Legacy in Motion is something that resonates with you, I would love to connect. Book a time with me at https://link.cncsdirect.com/widget/booking/2BPftOW1aYttaxdttERz.

Subscribe to our YouTube channel to follow this journey in real time: https://www.youtube.com/@JenniferMount

3-2-1 Takeaway

3 Things to Remember

• The women inside Eddie Warrior are carrying grief, loss, and unanswered questions that most of us will never face under those conditions. Showing up with honesty and presence matters more than showing up with a perfect program.

• Environment shapes us whether we are intentional about it or not. The choice of who we surround ourselves with is one of the most powerful choices we have, inside a correctional facility or outside of one.

• Your why may change. The call does not always change with it.

2 Questions Worth Asking

• Is there a door I have been waiting to walk through that I could start moving toward today, even without the whole plan figured out?

• Who am I surrounding myself with, and what is that environment pouring into me?

1 Thing to Do Next

If you feel called to serve and do not know where to start, reach out. Book a conversation with me at https://link.cncsdirect.com/widget/booking/2BPftOW1aYttaxdttERz and let's figure out the first step together.

Legal disclaimer: This post reflects Jennifer Mount's personal volunteer experiences at Eddie Warrior Correctional Center. All individuals referenced have either given permission to be named or have been kept anonymous at the author's discretion. Volunteer opportunities with the Oklahoma Department of Corrections are subject to DOC approval and screening processes.