Breaking Free: A Ministry of Miracles
By Sonia Duggan
Scott Mormon is a man on a mission.
Six days a week he is on the streets of Plano ministering to the homeless and disadvantaged, then working with at-risk youth in Collin County and Costa Rica, serving church ministers and ministries, conducting servant leadership training and spreading hope through his organization, Breaking Free.
Mormon, 60, is the heart and soul behind this nonprofit, often referred to as a “Ministry of Miracles.”
His journey to a life of service did not start with a dream; it began with a struggle.
Born in Dallas, Mormon moved to Plano in the ’70s at the age of 12. For him, the transition was challenging as he struggled to fit in.
“When I got here, I could not connect and I got into a lot of trouble,” he said.
His descent into a life of crime began early and led him to commit seven armed robberies, resulting in a 7-year sentence at the Ferguson Unit, notoriously known as the Gladiator Farm for young offenders.
“I didn’t get out of prison changed,” he said. When he was released in 1988, Mormon returned to Plano, living with his parents while on parole.
Once home, Mormon said he was on the verge of committing another crime when a neighbor intervened. Encouraged by his youth pastor, the neighbor witnessed to Mormon, leading him to a pivotal moment.
“When God got a hold of me in 1988, I knew I was at a crossroads,” he said. Realizing that another offense could result in a life sentence, he decided to change his life completely.
Mormon dedicated himself to God and began witnessing to teenagers on the streets of Plano.
“I wanted to tell teenagers the reality of addiction and that type of life,” he said.
He started frequenting parking lots and other hangouts to spread his message and ended up connecting with a youth pastor. The connection led to the formation of the God Squad, a street ministry team of about 30 young men, 17 girls, along with adults that were “more mature in the Lord.”
Over three years, Mormon said they led thousands of teenagers to the Lord,” adding, “that’s how I cut my teeth on ministry.”
Growing in Georgia
Mormon’s path to redemption took a significant turn when he moved to Georgia in the early 1990s at the recommendation of his pastor, who connected him with a minister running a rehab-type ministry.
“But when I went there, I ended up becoming a counselor at a drug and alcohol facility, Broken Shackle Ranch, for juveniles,” he said.
Initially licensed to care for only 7-10 juveniles, the facility later expanded its license to accommodate up to 77 juveniles. Mormon said half the residents came from Child Protective Service situations, while the others were referred by the Department of Juvenile Justice.
Mormon quickly advanced to the role of administrator and said, “over the next 10 years, it became one of the better facilities in the Southeast.”
Due to licensing regulations and restrictions on ministering to the youth at Broken Shackle Ranch, Mormon started his nonprofit, Breaking Free, Inc. in 2002 just down the street from the ranch.
The idea was formed, he said, when he noticed the need to assist older youth who fell through the cracks.
“I started the nonprofit because the former place could only help youth up to age 17, the adult age in Georgia. But when I started getting calls from 17 and 18-year-olds who needed help, I could not help them because I was working under juvenile licensing.”
Determined to fill this gap, Mormon took a unique approach.
“When I started Breaking Free, I said we’re not going to charge you anything, regardless.” Drawing from his past, Mormon used his skills for good.
“When I was in jail, one of my responsibilities in the gang I was in was recruiting,” he said. “And I tell people today that Satan was literally distorting all the gifts that God had put in me. So, when I started working with young people, I didn’t see it ‘just as a person getting saved,’ I’ve always seen them as someone that can really get on fire for the Lord and be developed into a young leader.”
The programs at Breaking Free, anywhere from 13 to 24 months, initially focused on young men 17 to 22-years old from middle to upper-middle-class backgrounds who were addicted to drugs.
Mormon said that few wanted to work with this age group “because they say they’re not ready.” Yet, many of the young men became deeply committed to their faith and the program prompting him to start a three-year internship program for those who wanted to continue.
Mormon and his crew also built a 12-room hotel for families to stay and participate in family recovery programs.
“We learned from the very beginning,” he said. “If a family comes together with a young man or young lady, it’s almost a 50 to 60% chance that they would do whatever it took to stay sober and live in a functional life with the Lord.”
The facility itself is a testament to faith and community support, constructed with $1.5 million in donations. Mormon and volunteers also built a thriving nursery — starting with just one tray of plants — that helped support the program.
Breaking Free’s efforts did not go unnoticed. Soon, a local prison warden requested Mormon’s expertise to implement a program for inmates; mostly hardened, violent criminals with an average age of 49, many having served 20-25 years.
“They wanted me in there doing a program because it would look good in Atlanta” to the powers that be,” he said.
Mormon agreed under two conditions: no fees and no prison staff in the classes, as their presence would hinder respect and trust. Despite initial resistance, the warden conceded and the program’s success drew interest from other facilities in Georgia and in other states.
At that time, 15 years into ministry, Mormon said he knew one of the tactics of the enemy was to take away the focus and “get you spread out and doing a lot of things.”
For that reason, Mormon chose to focus on excellence rather than expansion by offering training for other prison teams at Breaking Free, allowing them to replicate the model in their communities while maintaining the integrity and impact of the original program.
International Outreach
Mormon’s commitment to service extends beyond the borders of the United States.
The vision for Costa Rica was born out of a desire to expose the young men leaders in Breaking Free to a broader perspective on life, said Mormon.
And although he was familiar with mission work, the idea of international outreach was daunting since he had never ventured beyond Mexico.
The catalyst for this venture came from an unexpected connection. A police officer, whose brother was a participant in Breaking Free, was deeply impressed by the program’s success. This officer, head of an Atlanta gang unit, felt a divine calling and eventually quit his job to start mission work in Brazil. He contacted Mormon, expressing a need for a Breaking Free-like program there. However, the logistical challenges, such as obtaining visas, made Brazil an impractical option.
Honduras, known as a murder capital at the time, was also deemed too dangerous. The breakthrough came through a businessman friend named Rob, who aspired to start an orphanage in Costa Rica. Initially skeptical about the feasibility, Mormon decided to accompany Rob on a trip to explore the possibilities.
“God will provide if he wants me down there,” Mormon said.
Costa Rica turned out to be the perfect place, he said, with its sweet and welcoming people and a high need for support among its indigenous populations.
While there, Rob offered to buy Mormon a farm for his ministry. Out of three possibilities, two farms were perfect for growing food and the third was in the middle of the jungle. While touring the jungle farm, the seller mentioned that six girls who had lost their mother were raising themselves on the adjacent property. Despite not knowing Spanish, Mormon said he felt a divine nudge sensing that he was meant to be there and to “informally adopt” and support the girls.
The initial investment in the property seemed questionable at first. The 15-acre farm, nestled in the jungle, was not ideal for agriculture. However, Rob purchased the farm and set up a small corporation and Mormon and two interns began clearing the land and transforming it into a functional base for the ministry.
Today, 13 years later, the girls, now grown, run the ministry that feeds 200 individuals a month through its organic sustainable farm growing plantains, vegetables and more.
The farm also serves as a hub for various activities, including feeding programs for mothers and children deep in the jungle who cannot easily access the church. A children’s church on the farm allows local children to participate in spiritual activities.
Back to Plano
Almost three years ago, Mormon made the pivotal decision to return to Plano, reestablishing it as the headquarters for Breaking Free, even though the organization was incorporated in Georgia. “We’re a 501(c)(3) church without walls,” he said.
His return was not only driven by his U.S. family of four grown children, but also by a deep concern over the rising fentanyl crisis and a commitment to leverage his years of experience to combat the growing epidemic.
And although Plano was once an epicenter of youth fatalities, the epidemic is spreading throughout Collin County communities.
“I’ve come in here because of the fentanyl,” he said. “And I’ve taken everything that I’ve done over the years and I’ve got long term programs I can get people into.”
Mormon has always believed that effective addiction treatment requires a setting far removed from the urban environment.
“You can’t start a program in a city,” he said. “The programs we do are in the middle of nowhere because you can’t have a young man or young lady coming off drugs in a city like this and really be able to effectively work with them.”
And while long-term facilities treat third and fourth stage addictions, Mormon recognized a significant gap in services for first and second stage addictions when intervention can be most effective.
“This is when a parent finds out their child’s using drugs and there might be some problems at school,” he said.
His insight led to a new approach: integrating the best of Breaking Free’s programs with family-oriented support using technology.
Leveraging advancements from the pandemic, Mormon now uses platforms like Zoom to conduct remote sessions for individuals in the U.S. and abroad.
In his efficiency apartment equipped with a 32-inch screen, Mormon can host sessions with up to four separate families simultaneously, providing guidance and support in a safe and controlled manner.
“It’s actually a way to come in and parent the parents in a very safe way because often the teen is the one who’s been running the house,” he said.
Frustrated by the pattern of kids coming to him only after addiction had taken hold, Mormon is proactive in prevention, taking a “let’s come in and blitz our schools” approach.
Plano’s Bowman Middle School serves as their model. With a large Hispanic student population, Mormon’s collaboration with Craig, a bilingual pastor, allowed them to engage students during all three lunch periods once approved by the school. Starting with just two or three high-risk kids identified by the staff, the program quickly expanded to two tables of students within weeks.
Mormon spoke about how one time he talked to lunchroom kids via Zoom from Costa Rica. On another occasion, a teacher asked him to counsel a troubled teen via Zoom in another room where they heard his interaction with the young man.
The teachers later suggested Craig and Mormon host a “pop up” event at a local park, providing a space for the troubled students to gather outside of school. The success of the events led Mormon to aspire to continue the gatherings once school was out.
“I was convinced students would grow a lot this summer,” he said, in a less structured environment.
The park events hosted by Mormon and his team of volunteers have since become a cornerstone of their outreach, drawing not only at-risk, but a diverse group of children and parents.
“You can’t build something like this on 80% high risk because they’re not in a controlled environment like a facility or jail,” he said. “God’s building this with average children. Then when you bring in 20% high risk, they have a model to see what’s positive.”
Ministering to the Homeless
For Mormon, his return to Plano was a way to give back “with an attitude of gratefulness and thankfulness to the place that changed me.”
His approach is distinct, focusing on direct outreach.
“What we’re doing in Plano is a little different approach — we’re out in the streets,” he said.
For the first two years, Mormon varied his times on the streets to better connect with and understand the homeless population, taking grace bags — essential supplies for the homeless — with him each time.
The streets are difficult. “It is so depressing to see that part of life with people,” he said. “But when I’m in the streets, it keeps it real. It works. It keeps my head on straight.”
Mormon’s street ministry is not just about providing physical needs but also addressing mental health. He said he was shocked by the state of people on the streets, witnessing many in psychosis or comatose states. Because of this, he ventures out by himself because of the “extreme paranoia” he’s witnessed.
“When I went out three days ago, in an hour and a half, I prayed with probably 12 to 15 people,” he said. “Probably 80% of them were suffering from extreme mental health issues.”
But building trust is a slow process. Mormon said it takes him weeks to build a little relationship with them enough to get them into LifePath or whatever is needed.
Mormon’s efforts in Plano have drawn attention from neighboring areas like McKinney, leading to requests for his insights and assistance.
“It’s very difficult to get correct data on the homeless here because of the transit from Dallas,” he said. But he soon learned by going out in the pre-dawn hours, he could better identify the homeless and the challenges they faced by walking back alleys and parking lots on the city’s east side.
The Homeless Coalition in Plano has also recognized his efforts, inviting him to speak because of his direct involvement.
Mormon stressed that homelessness is more than what the annual count suggests.
“It’s not just driving by once a year and doing a count,” he said. “The reality is the count is off because they’re counting people that are coming and going.”
Ministry mission
Mormon has also made it his mission to educate and train others in ministry, equipping them on how to work with the homeless, how to work with addiction, how to work with the incarcerated and much more.
Many church volunteers are a critical, and often overlooked resource, said Mormon, that have been pushed out because of COVID.
“These are really the people behind the scenes that keep a lot of these “church machines” functioning,” he said. “If the culture here was working, we wouldn’t have the crisis we have on our hands.”
The crisis resulting from the pandemic has led to significant financial cuts in ministries, he said, with giving reduced by nearly 50 to 60%. Additionally, mission work worldwide has also suffered.
“What God’s used me to do is to come in and really show a lot of stuff that is off balance in our area,” he said. “I don’t get into trying to change another church.”
At First Baptist Melissa, he has spent time with a Sunday school group, explaining the homeless crisis and his work in schools.
“What I’m really doing is educating them on the homeless crisis and what we’re doing in schools,” he said, adding, “they asked me to train them because they have several teachers in Anna and Melissa who want to know how we’re doing this.”
Now Mormon is helping to create a model and train others because, “I can’t be in 67 schools and because there’s teachers everywhere out here.”
Breaking Free operates entirely with volunteers, a decision Mormon believes is divinely guided. “We are 100% volunteer,” he said, “I believe God did that for a reason, adding, “I’ve never taken a vow of poverty, but I live like that.”
And while Mormon’s personal testimony resonates with many, he believes the real work is in preventing others from reaching the same lows he did.
“Everybody wants to hear my testimony about what God’s done in my life,” he said. “But really, it’s us getting in there with these young people and seeing them not have to do that — or catching them before they get hardened or on one of these drugs and stuff that’s out there. It’s about what we’re doing out here in the streets.”
The impact of Mormon’s work with Breaking Free is evident in the countless lives that have been touched. From feeding the hungry, helping the homeless and addicted, teaching servant leadership, working with the youth and the imprisoned, Mormon’s ministry lives out the call to action found in Matthew 25:35-46.
“I stay focused on the hurting,” he said. “And if I do, all this other stuff works out.”
To donate, volunteer or learn more about Breaking Free, go to bfservices.org.