Hallelujah

So as many of you can imagine, one of the most wonderful, magical things happened this weekend. My sister, the strong and incredible woman that she is, gave birth to Payton Marie Hall at 10:52am on Saturday morning. Most of the people who read this blog read Jenna's too, so I won't go into too much detail... but the weekend was quite the journey! For several reasons...

I got the phone call from my dad at about 4:50am that Jenna's water had broken and she was on the way to the hospital. So of course, in good 'ole "wait, what?!" fashion, I started throwing things in a bag and said "I'm on my way". But my wonderful father assured me that he was already looking at plane tickets and that he would get me there as soon as possible. I keep trying to tell him how much it meant to me to get me there so quickly so that I could be there from the beginning, but I don't think I can. In a lot of ways, my daddy was my rock this weekend. Love you dad :)

So I leave my house, go to the airport, basically jog through security (had no belt or laptop... wouldn't have worn pants if it would have sped things up... but I'm pretty sure it would have just slowed my travels down) and fly over to Portland. Funny enough, my plane landed at EXACTLY 10:52, and as I called my dad to tell him that I had landed, I heard the lullaby that hospitals play over the loudspeakers every time a baby is born. That counts as being there, right?! It was really an exciting moment. So dad said, "grab a cab and get here quick". So I run out of the airport, run back in to find an information kiosk and ask where the cabs are, and finally jump in a cab with a driver named Donald Lickiss. Oh yes, I remember his name. How could I not. Upon walking up to him, I said "hi" and he responded "never". Between you and me, his aroma said different... my dad even commented when he met me outside the hospital. So I zoomed over with good 'ole Donny boy and arrived at the hospital just as Kyle had come out of the OR, showing video of the baby to the two new grandmas. Of course, we all commenced to bawling and hugging. It truly was a beautiful family moment, we felt like this new little person made us complete. As soon as we could, we went in to see Jenna and Payton. I'm so unbelievably proud of my sister, and I kid you not, Payton is the most beautiful little girl ever born... a true angel.

Over the next few hours, we went between hospital and Jenna and Kyle's house, resting (I was an exhausted wreck) and basking in this miracle. One of the most magical parts of the weekend, though, was when Jenna and Kyle invited a chaplain to bless Payton while we were there. He prayed over the family and had the parents say their hopes for her. When I got to hold her next, I told her my hopes and dreams for her in this world, that I wanted her greatest gifts to meet the world's greatest need and that I hoped she would show others the love and support that she is sure to receive from her family. And she started crying. I think I overwhelmed her :) When I held Payton, my favorite thing to do was to sing to her. Nada te turbe, nada te espante, todo se pasa, Dios no se muda, quien a Dios tiene nada le falta, solo Dios basta. Basically, it means "Let nothing disturb you, let nothing frighten you, all things are passing, God never changes, he who has God lacks nothing, God alone is sufficient". Not your average lullaby, but if she's going to be bilingual by the time she's 5 I've got to get to work! Just kidding... but I was truly feeling the sentiments of the song.

This weekend was beautiful in many ways, but it was also a pretty difficult time. For those of you who have followed me through my college journey, you may remember a good friend of mine named Lee Stover who made at least one appearance in each of my email updates. Well, four hours before I received the news of Payton's impending arrival, I received news that Lee had passed away the night before in his sleep. You can imagine I didn't get much sleep that night, hence my being an emotional wreck :) He passed away from an enlarged heart in Cheyenne, Wyoming where he was a Youth Director of a Presbyterian Church. I only told my dad, he was so wonderful in hugging me and holding me, and covering for me when I "needed to go for a walk". My mom could tell something was wrong so I told her later when we were alone. I wouldn't be telling you now except I feel compelled to share with you my thoughts.

Lee Stover was a fantastic friend, I can't even count the memories! We built an igloo together, we wrestled constantly (and if you remember his description, you can imagine how it was extremely one-sided), he waited with me when I got my RA letter, we went camping at Priest Lake, and tons of other little memories. He was the kind of guy who would see a budding little freshman, hardly knowing who she was, and would make her feel right at home. That is who Lee was to me, a support and essential member of my family away from home. The guy who saw me outside on the evening of the first snow of the year, came out and asked me to dance as the snow fell. I am being completely honest when I say that it was a magical moment for me, I had never felt so special. It is by far my favorite memory of Lee, and is such a good example of his person.

If you had met him, you would have loved him. His laugh was contagious, and although he wore his emotions on his face, he still always seemed to be smiling. He had a larger-than-life personality and a pure heart for others. He wasn't a protector of others simply because of his size (about 6'5" and 300+ pounds), but because he cared for people so much. No person was insignificant in his eyes, everyone had an incredible purpose on God's Earth. He had a way of always being a support, always being there when you needed him for silliness or seriousness. He could reach the unreachable; those people you see in your lifetime that you wonder, "do they have anyone to love?" you also would have seen hugging Lee if they had met him. A ferocious man of faith, unafraid to ask difficult questions and admit when the answers were inadequate. An incredible friend to everyone, and greatly missed.

It's always hard to lose someone because we feel cheated, don't we?! We feel like, as much or as little time as we had spent with them here on Earth, we lost all future opportunity to be in fellowship with them, to laugh with them, and to learn from them. But this isn't about me, this isn't about my losing the possibility of relationship or even the world losing the possibility of being bettered by him. It's funny how much we take for granted and let go unnoticed until it is pressed upon our heart. I learned so much from him while he was alive, but oh so much more in his death. It seemed as though Lee had an endless capacity for loving and caring for others, and I realized through the way he lived that it was because He loved God first. His dedication to Christ made him a vessel to pour out to others, and I want to be more like that. At his memorial last night, one of his friends reflected that Lee's life was one big "Hallelujah", that each day was a gift and a new opportunity to show Christ's love on Earth to others. Shouldn't we all live that way, as if each day were a celebration?! I want each day to become a "Hallelujah", an experience with which I can love others and do so with joy. That's what Lee has taught me; I saw it in his face whenever I saw him, but now I see the desperate need for it in the world. It almost seems fitting that a man with a heart larger than life itself died of an enlarged heart...

So I guess this is a temporary goodbye, friend. You'd better be saving me a dance up there, but until then I'll say and live a "Hallelujah" each day for you.

Love,

Chels