October 25 – “Happy birthday, Luke Grayson Vaughan”

A flurry of activity began at our house around 11:26 yesterday morning.  That’s when we received a text from Josh saying, “We’re going to have a baby!  She’s at a 3 and they’re checking us into the hospital.”  Notice, even in his excitement, the correct spelling of “they’re.”  Nice job, Daddy.  I saw the text first, so I called out to Chris, “Let’s go.”  She knew immediately what that meant, so we kicked into high gear.  She had been cleaning house for home group, so she headed for the shower.  But first she helped Mom into her clothes for the day and got her situated on the couch.  Then she called Jennifer to come on over and stay with Mom.  And … of course, this was the day that Jennifer didn’t have her car with her.  That added another level of frenzy to our preparations.  I texted Kel to see if he or Christina could come over until Jennifer could get here.  He texted back that he would go get her for us, and that became the new plan.  We had to call Nathan to bring him into the picture, because we were supposed to pick up Cailyn from school and he was on duty.  Always the reassuring one, he insisted that he would take care of it, and urged us on our way. 

Next, I let Cory know that he would have the service at Seaside Sunday.  And I do mean the service.  Jimmy can’t be there either, so he has responsibility for music as well as preaching.  He can handle it, though.  He used to prepare like that for the youth group all the time, so I knew the church was in good hands.  I was sent on a quick WalMart run.  No surprise there.  We needed some milk and some things for Mom.  While I was out I topped off the gas tank.  That was a little bit of my Dad coming out in me, I guess.  Meanwhile, back at the ranch, er, house, the packing began.  It is always hard to pack when we are leaving the Island for a while during this strange season (in other places, at least) called Fall.  Will it be cold?  Will it be stifling hot?  I know we were going to be in Texas, but it is so hard to predict the weather anywhere off the Island.  And for how long?  We were going to help with caring for Zak and Caleb so Josh could spend as much time as possible at the hospital with Christy and Luke, so would we just need enough to get through the weekend?  A week, maybe?  How about a coat?  Light jacket or heavier?  At least Hurricane Ike thinned out our options in that department.  Grab the pillows.  Put a few root beers and Dr. Peppers in the ice chest along with some fruit.  Pack up the computer.  Phone chargers.  Camera.  Camera charger.  Book to read in the car.  Crossword puzzle book for … well, because I like to do crossword puzzles and they help put me sleep every night.  Hedge clippers.  Limb trimmers.  Hey, we never got around to that part of the to-do list when we went last time.  Blow-up mattress and electric air pump.  Oh, and sheets for the mattress.  All the while checking for text updates from Josh and peeking at the front door to see if Kel and Jennifer had arrived.  Somewhere in there we managed to eat a quick turkey sandwich and some Cheetos.  Gotta have those Cheetos.  I tossed all the little stuff into my briefcase.  I’m still not sure what all is in there.  The stuffed light sabre Anne made for Luke was on top, though.  That was important.  And a flashlight.  Always be prepared.  I was pretty sure my wallet was in there somewhere.  Oh, and some money.  We might actually have to eat again at some point. 

Not long after we got the last thing loaded into the car, Kel and Jennifer arrived.  Chris flew through her usual instructions routine.  That usually takes forever, but this time it went amazingly fast.  We were finally on the road by 1:30 or so.  And then the really hard part of the waiting began.  Oh, we were making good progress.  Chris was driving, and I heard an occasional, “Oh, you better get out of my way” or something like it, when traffic got congested.  I started reading the book I brought along, but as is my custom, I fell asleep somewhere in Houston.  There was nothing we could do to get there any faster (nothing legal, anyway), and the baby would arrive any sooner than God intended, so for the next three and a half or four hours all we could do was wait.  Better than sitting in the waiting room, I guess.  At least this way there was scenery.  I have to admit I did get a little frustrated with our google maps lady.  She was always several miles behind where we actually were in telling us the route, so she really wasn’t much help.  I guess we were moving too fast for the GPS signal to keep up with us.  Not that we were speeding.  The speed limit through there was 75 most of the way, and that GPS voice was only going 60 or 65. 

When we finally arrived in Waco, we were counting on that google voice a little too much, I think.  Chris kind of remembered where the hospital was, so we trusted our instincts and we were doing really well.  Until we missed the turn for the hospital.  That meant driving on to the next exit and turning around.  We finally did reach our destination, and I hit the text I had already typed, “We are in the parking lot.”  And remarkably, at virtually the same instant, a text from Josh came through:

“Luke is here!  Mom and baby are doing great!  6lb 8oz  19 in.”  I would surmise from the use of exclamation points that somewhere in that hospital was a very happy and somewhat excited Daddy.  It took no surmising to know that a certain Nani and DadDad were excited. 

We made our way inside and through the security door just as Josh was on his way to invite the grandparents in to meet Luke.  This timing was not too shabby after all.  We joined Christi’s parents and went into the birthing room.  Christi was holding the little guy.  She looked gorgeous, as usual.  Everyone gathered around her and the picture-fest began.  Luke was awake and took in the activity with a sort of detached interest.  After allowing us time for our initial oohing and awing and snapping photos, Josh gathered us all in a circle and prayed a very sweet Daddy prayer, thanking God for his protection and love.  And then the holding began.  Individual times for each grandparent to interact personally with this new little addition to the family.  When my turn came, I resisted the urge to hold him up to the sky like Mustafa or whatever that baboon’s name was.  Instead I opted for a quiet prayer of praise and thanks, an assurance to Luke that DadDad loved him, and as I traced a small cross on his forehead with my thumb, I prayed his own personal Aaronic blessing over him:

“Luke, may the Lord bless you and keep you; may the Lord make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you; may the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace.”  (Numbers 6:24-26)