The Day I Met Thurl Bailey
Chapter One
Who Will Lullaby The Fathers?It was the morning of December 8th, 2006. Soon, the women would be gathering for our weekly “cherishing circle”. I would be addressing the subject of the healing influence of singing to your children; the power of a father’s voice singing a lullaby to his child—or a mother’s. How the soft serenading influence of a lullaby could awaken the sleeping spirit. How the sound of a lullaby could reconnect the hearts of fathers to hearts of the children. At the close of the class, we would have a special guest. Just the day before, an old friend had called and asked if I might be able to get a group of people together to listen to Thurl Bailey. I knew of Thurl Bailey as a musician, as well as an athlete and was excited to have him come to our class of just a few women to hopefully serenade them. “Will he sing to us?” I had asked my caller. “I am sure he will sing a few songs! I’ll tell him to bring his music.” As we waited for our guest, I sang the words to “Grown Up Christmas List”, a song that Amy Grant made famous, but sang the depths of my heart, to the women gathered in our circle. “As children we believe, the grandest sight to seeIs something lovely wrapped beneath the tree—But heaven surely knowsThat packages and bowsCan never heal a hurting human soul…”The Christmas wish I was singing, was softly interrupted by a gentle knock on the front door. I opened it, with microphone in hand, still singing as in walked our guest, Thurl Bailey. I never realized that he had come, like an angel to answer years and years of my own year round pleadings with the Lord, that someone, a man, would come and help me lullaby the fathers. He bowed his head and ducked under the door frame as he ventured in to a room of waiting strangers who awaited his presence like eager children. Immediately, I was drawn to the warmth in the gentle smile that lit up his beautiful countenance. A feeling of comfort passed through me. It was like I was seeing a dear old friend—one you haven’t seen for years—a wonderful sense that a kindred spirit had just walked into my home connecting the lullaby of my heart—to the lullaby in his. I liked him all at once.Knowing his time was precious, I quickly finished singing my song and invited him to speak and sing to the women and men in our circle. He shared with us how music had blessed his life tremendously since he was just a little child. We were at once, a captive audience, as he shared with us the influence of his father and mother’s singing and dancing and the profound effect that this had upon him as a little child. He said, “I grew up in a realm of love. Love was my only frame of reference. I had a father who danced with me. I had a father who sang to me. I had a mother who loved my father.”As Thurl began to sing a song about his dancing father, tears streamed the cheeks of all those present. He had not known that just before he had walked into my home, I had been urging my class to sing to their little ones, to sing to their husbands, to sing to their wives…to lullaby their children.After the class, I walked Thurl to my kitchen table where the songs I have written to lullaby the women and children were all packaged neatly in rows. I looked up at him, feeling very much like a little child. Never in all my life, had I gotten the courage to ask a man for help, as I was in this moment, asking for his.“Who will lullaby the fathers?” I asked him. “I need your help! You have a voice and a story to tell! You had a father and a mother who cherished you and loved you. You are an icon that fathers and husbands will listen to. You are admired for your strength by men, women and children everywhere. You have a message to share. Will you do it?”Thurl looked at me more gently and kindly then I ever remember experiencing before as I related my deepest wish to lullaby God’s children. I witnessed a chord of a kindred interest being struck in that divine moment… His deep dark eyes were filled with empathy and compassion as he looked into my eyes and spoke in a such a kind and humble way. “I have always wanted to sing lullabies…” He said. “Let me think about this…” I filled his arms with cds of every song that I had ever sung and asked him to listen to them. Somehow, in that moment, I felt that my “grown up Christmas wish” was about to be answered with a blessing upon the heads of many…Several weeks passed. I understood that Thurl was a busy man and just felt grateful for the opportunity to have met him in such an unusual way. God had literally brought him to my doorstep. Now, just a few days before Christmas, I drove along the freeway, feeling the ball was back in my court. I told the Lord, as I drove along, “I don’t know how to do it—but my songs are like the little boy’s loaf and two fishes. Please make a miracle and feed the five thousand.” I reminisced on when I was sixteen and how my father loved it when I sang to him. I had lullabied my father growing up. He would close his eyes and listen as tears streamed down his cheeks. Singing was the one way I always felt I could reach my father’s heart. That was the one thing I did that I knew pleased him. “But,” I continued my prayer, “I need a man’s voice! I need those rich deep low tones that will vibrate the message of hope and healing into the very cells of men’s souls and fill them with the love they needed to feel as little children!” As I drove along in prayer, I knew that God would answer my prayer. I had no doubt. I would await his miracle with child-like faith.The next afternoon, the phone rang. To my surprise, it was Thurl Bailey. He apologized for not getting back to me sooner but life had been busy for him. We talked for nearly an hour about the needs of women and children to have their husband and fathers gently awakened to their divine ability to nurture, adore and cherish their daughters, wives, sisters and mothers. Again, I asked him, “Who will lullaby the fathers?” Little did he know, that just the day before, I had been petitioning the Lord for divine assistance in reaching the broken hearted women of the world—by gently awakening the sleeping fathers and husbands to their abilities to feel and express tenderness. I had prayed, “but, without healing the husbands and fathers, the wounds will keep reoccurring…” I had prayed. “Men need to feel cherished too! Men need to be lullabied to also! All this time, I have focused my song-writing upon the women and the children, never really believing that I could write songs that would awaken the hearts of the fathers to the pure love of God…”Now, Thurl took the ball and began to run with it. “I want you to write my book.” He said. “I want to write a book about the lessons that I have learned in my life. A book about the role that fathers and husbands have in nurturing their wives and children.” My heart skipped a beat. “Can we write lullabies to go with every chapter? Will you sing them?” He confirmed my heart’s desire and a kindred friendship was formed in an effort to go out onto life’s battlefield and bring canteens of living water to the wounded warriors—to bring the energy of the pure love of God through the gift of a lullaby. The amazing thing is, I never really followed Thurl as an athlete. I was always more interested in the music of this man’s soul. Now, I knew why. Deep down inside, our hearts were singing the same song… the song of redeeming love.
