Who Will Lullaby The Prisoners?

March 13, 2007 at 1:32 am (Who Will Lullaby The Prisoners?)

The Woman At The Well 

I spent the day on Sunday with a small group of thirty or so inmates at the Point of the Mountain.  Bishop Hall and Brother Marlell Neilson were there to guide us through the experience.  Kent and Linda Hart and Rayonna Hale, were my traveling missionary companions.  As you may know, I have been blessed with a new opportunity to send “the song of my heart” on a mission to the men at the prison.

As I shared my experience, as a latter day woman at the well, with these men, I had them visualize themselves living in the days of Christ.  “Visualize for a moment, that there is a Samaritan woman who has just recieved the promise of “living water” for all of her life’s searchings to give love and to be loved by a mortal men.  The man at the well, named Jesus, has not condemned her for her life experience, but rather, has offered her what he intuitively knows she has been searching for—the pure love of God.”

“Imagine that you belong to the same small community, the woman at the well, belongs to.  Imagine that you men are her people; her brothers.  She wants you to know about this man named Jesus who does not condemn the sinner, in spite of the fact, that he knows everything about their errors in judgment.  Instead, he looks upon the heart and offers you the hope of recieving what you have been looking for, all of your life!”

“As I tell she tells you of her experiences with this man named Jesus, you may be a bit skeptical at first, as she has had many husbands, (which is not a Samaritan custom.)  You may wonder why you should believe this woman, of all people.  But, then…something amazing happens.  Jesus comes to visit you  too.  He tarries with you. in your little community, for three days.  As he tarries with you, you discover for yourselves that this man does not judge you for your sins or transgressions either!  Instead, he offers you the same living water that he offers the woman at the well.”

As I spoke to the men, I see warmth coming into chiseled countenances.  I see eyes softening and even brimming with tears.  One man, does not even blink.  He listens to me with empathy, hope and compassion engraven ino his face.  I continue…

“Now, I would like to sing to you, you men who are my brothers—you men who are noble sons of God—a song that I wrote as I experienced many of the feelings that that ancient woman at the well; may have felt after her visit with the Savior.”

As I sing to them, something stirs within my soul.  As I gaze into their eyes, my heart is comforted.  I see depths that I never imagined I would see before.  I see brothers who have lived lives that entitle them to the most precious gift of all gifts—the atonement of Jesus Christ.  A gift that has the power not only to transform their lives, but to change their hearts. 

I speak to them about the bitterness I felt towards men after five marriages.  I speak to them about the Savior’s gift of softening my heart towards men and filling me with such a pure love for my brothers, that now, I am writing a book called, “Who Will Lullaby the Fathers?”  I speak to them of Thurl Bailey’s experience in growing up in a home where he witnessed the healing power of love and the destructive power of violence.  I share with them about this man, that I have grown to love, named Thurl Bailey, whose life experiences have offered him the same choice that these men have…to pass on the cycles of abuse that they have witnessed in their lives or to stop these cycles and begin passing on the pure love of Christ.

I ask them, “Which one of you wants to experience Joy in this life? Which one of you does not want to experience pure love?  True love?  Which one of you believes that your heart has become so hardened like I believed mine once was, that you will never need or want pure love again?  How would you like to experience a change of heart so deep that you can go on and change lives with your newfound ability to feel and share of the pure love of Christ with those who love you and those who you love?”

I was amazed when afterwards, men of all statures and sizes came up to me and shook my hand.  With eyes shining with pure light and truth, each thanked me one by one and asked me how they could get my music to “play in their trucks after I get out?”  One brother told me, “I get out in a week and I need to get this music to listen to—not only for me, but for my mother.  She needs this too…”

Another prisoner came up to me and said, with eyes brimming with tears, “I have been to over 3000 churches over the span of 1200 miles.  No one’s ever reached into my heart like you did with the words you said and the songs you sang.  No one.” 

What did I feel as I ministered to these men?  I felt nothing but the pure love of Christ for them.  I shared with them how Matt Anderson and Wayne Young and Shaun Woodward all had expressed an interest just the night before at my birthday party, to come and minister to them with me.  I told them, “in my circle of friends, there is no judgment for you…there is only a desire to serve you and bless you…”

I shared with them how I had written two songs at Bishop Lombardi’s request and how, after recording them at the recording studio, I had been pulled over by a policeman for speeding.  I shared with them, how the policeman had let me go, without giving me a ticket, when he learned that I had been recording songs to share with the men at the prison.

“How do they like your music out there?” The policeman had asked me.  The men in the room all chuckled when I told them what I had told the policeman.  “I don’t know how they like it—but they don’t have much choice!  They are my captive audience.”  Mirth and music filled the air…tears brimmed in their eyes too as they did in mine.

But what touched my heart the most as I visited these men, was the robust way that they sang, “I Stand All Amazed” at the end of the service.  Many knew all the words by heart.  The prayers uttered, were humble, sweet and child-like.

When I got home, I sat in my recliner and looked at the new picture hanging on my wall in my living room.  It is a picture of the Savior teaching a little boy, dressed in a little striped robe, how to pray.  I thought of how he took our “stripes” upon himself—so that we all might be made whole.  Stripes that often originated in our childhoods. 

The words of the song that I had sung to all of you, my friends, at the birthday celebration the night before, rang clearly in the ears of my understanding…

“He danced with saint and sinner both—A Soul Was Reborn…”

One man came up to me and shared with me that he was a former professional football player.  He shared that he had been in a Southern Calvery Baptist church many years ago, when Thurl Bailey was married to his first wife.  He said, “Thurl leaned over to me during that service and expressed his feelings about the service.  I said, ‘Hey, you live in Utah, why don’t you try going to the Mormon church?”  Though, this man has not joined the church as of yet, it was obvious that he had sincere feelings about it as he led us in singing all the hymns.

What a priviledge—more than I can express.  God sure works in mysterious ways.  How far he has brought me in healing my heart from the wounds I once projected onto men.  Now, I honestly see all men, as my brothers in Christ.  I see the child in them.  I see the noble son of God in them.  I see the divine potential in them.  But, most of all, I see myself in them—for I too was imprisoned—and He visited me. 

Not only has the Lord visited me personally in giving me a change of heart.  But now, he is visiting me through men I never knew I could feel safe in sharing the depths of my soul with before.  I thank my Elder Brother for the priviledge of allowing me to give these men ladel fulls of his love to them.  For I am, a latter day, woman at the well.

Karyn Grant
www.joycoaching.wordpress.com

Leave a Comment

Who Will Lullaby The Grandfather’s?

March 1, 2007 at 1:47 pm (Lara's "Story of the Evening", Lullaby Your Grandfather, Uncategorized)

Who Will Lullaby The Grandfather’s?

By Karyn Grant 

My daughter, Lara, who is seventeen years old came home from her usual, all night shift, where she works as a CNA, for the elderly.  Often, she comes in and shares “the story of the evening” with me, about the night’s events at the care center where she spends each night.

  Recently, Lara was saddened because sweet “Marion”, an elderly gentlemen who Lara has cared for and who was her “favorite” passed away.  I felt Marion’s passing would be soon in coming because Lara would often share with me, that when she would take Marion his food, he would always stop to bless it.  Often, in the middle of his blessing, he would look up from his prayer and ask Lara, “Is that Jesus I see coming down the hallway?”

I have often told Lara how special her work is in taking care of the grandfathers and grandmothers as they prepare to meet the Savior again.  I have noticed how respectfully Lara speaks of them, how she is amused by them.  Often, Lara and I have laughed and even shed a few tears, over the stories she has shared with me, about them.

The other morning, I heard Lara come in, as usual from her graveyard shift.  I called sleepily out to her, “Did you get any sleep tonight, honey?”  I am concerned about Lara; because she is trying to finish her last few months of High School.  With her rigorous schedule, she can hardly get a good night’s sleep anymore.  She is constantly being awakened to care for the needs of the aging, to give them their meds, to tuck them back into bed, to assist them in anyway she can…

“No, not really…” she sighed sleeplily, coming in and sitting on my bed at 7:00 a.m.  “What happened?” I asked, getting ready to preach a tender little motherly sermon about “the importance of getting a good night’s sleep so she could make it to school on time.”  Instead, I listened as Lara shared “the story of the evening”.  I learned a tender lesson, which awakened something in my soul.

“In the middle of the night, one of the staff heard some banging on the outside doors.  So, she, the hispanic woman went to see what the problem was.  Lying on the ground, just outside the doors, was an 85 year old man, huddling in the freezing cold.  He didn’t have any shoes on and his hands and feet were all cut up as though he had been crawling through the night looking for help.  He must have come from one of the homes in the neighborhood, and lost his way.  He couldn’t remember his phone number, but he could remember his name, so I looked up his number in the phone book and called his wife at 4:00 a.m. in the morning.” 

“Then Maria, the other girl and I made a little bed for him on the floor because he was too big for us to move.  We bundled him up because he was shivering so bad it looked like he was having seizures!”  Lara continued with her story…”His wife came to pick him up and Mom, it was so sad because she hadn’t even known he was missing.  She said they went to bed at 11:00 p.m. and that he must have gone out for a little midnight stroll in the ice cold.  That’s when we learned that he has dymentia…We called the paramedics so that they could come and see if he was suffering from the effects of the cold.  Mom, I don’t want to get old.  It’s so sad…”

As I listened to my daughters “story of the evening”, I was moved to compassion for the elderly.  How they have spent their whole lives, giving of themselves to their spouses, careers and children…and in the end…who is it that cares for them, that listens to them, that ministers to these angels? 

I wondered, “Who will lullaby the grandfathers?  A seventeen year old girl? A busy single mother? An old forgotten friend?  After all, we are the only voice that God has!” I thought to myself.  But, then I changed my mind.

            This early morning, after pondering Lara’s story, I wrote it down and when I rose to go back to bed, I felt  an angel’s embrace.  I recognize the ministering of angels because I have had a few unseen visits from them.  But this one, caught me off guard.  Immediately, I sensed Marion’s spirit standing beside me.  Tears sprang to my eyes as I wondered why a man I had never met, would come to visit me.

            “Tell Lara, thank you for caring for me…” came the almost audible whisper.  I recognize the voice of angels.  I believe that listening hearts can hear them.  Before I had time to formulate the thought, “Will you be my daughter’s ministering angel?”  Marion’s spirit answered, “Yes!” in a robust, but gentle way.  “Tell Lara, thank you for taking care of me and tell her, that yes, that was Jesus coming down the hallway.”

            I called Lara, interrupting her sleep at the care center at 5:30 a.m. this morning.  “Lara”, I whispered through my tender tears…”What’s wrong, Mom?”  “Nothing…” I answered her back…  “I just received word from your dear friend Marion.  He told me to tell you thank you for taking such good care of him.  I asked him to be your ministering angel when I can’t be with you…oh and Lara, that was Jesus coming down the hallway!”

            I know that Lara will be blessed for her countless, sleepless nights spent serving the elderly. For if each one of them, returns to thank her in this way, by being a ministering angel to her, I know that she will be in good hands.  For the hands of angels are, after all, God’s hands.

Leave a Comment

Who Will Lullaby The Grandfather’s?

March 1, 2007 at 1:00 pm (Uncategorized)

Is there someone who you have forgotten who once blessed you in your childhood or youth?  Read about the rest of the story about how my daughter’s experience possibly saving an elderly man’s life, has been blessing me, days hence.  If you know of somone who is aging, call them, write them a note, send them love, pray for them….

Read the rest of the story….”Who Will Lullaby The Grandfather’s” by going to PAGE

Leave a Comment

Who Will Lullaby The Grandfather’s?

March 1, 2007 at 11:42 am (Lara's "Story of the Evening", Lullaby Your Grandfather)

“I Was Sick…and Ye Visited Me” 

My daugher, who is seventeen years old came home from her usual, all night shift, where she works as a CNA, for the elderly.  Often, she comes in and shares the “story of the evening” with me, about the night’s happenings.  Recently, she was saddened because sweet Marion, an elderly gentlemen, “one of my favorites”, had recently passed away.  I felt this was soon in coming because Lara would often share with me, that when she would take Marion his food, he would stop to bless it.  Often, in the middle of his blessing, he would look up from his prayer and ask Lara, “Is that Jesus I see coming down the hallway?” 

I have told Lara how special her work is in taking care of the grandfathers and grandmothers as they prepare to meet the Savior again.  I have noticed how respectfully she speaks of them, how she is amused by them and often we have laughed and even shed a few tears, over the stories Lara has told me.

The other morning, I heard Lara come in, as usual from her graveyard shift.  I called sleepily out to her, “Did you get any sleep tonight, honey?”  I am concerned about Lara; because she is trying to finish her last few months of High School.  With her rigorous schedule, she can hardly get a good night’s sleep anymore.  She is constantly being awakened to care for the needs of the aging, to give them their meds, etc. 

“No, not really…” she sighed coming in and sitting on my bed at 7:00 a.m.  “What happened?” I asked, getting ready to preach a tender little motherly sermon about the importance of getting a good night’s sleep. Instead, Lara taught me a tender lesson.

“In the middle of the night, one of the staff heard some banging on the outside doors.  Read the rest of this entry »

Leave a Comment