remembering Payton.

It's Wednesday, April 13th in Baku.

April thirteenth.

This is a picture of my bedroom wall in Baku... The little boy in the VeggieTales hoodie is our little Payton boy. This picture has traveled the world with me...

Missing you today, sweet boy.

I learned an extraordinary lesson about love on the day of little Payton’s funeral. It was just after the funeral service and my family was standing in the cemetery just a few headstones away from where we'd gathered twice before; the first was six years earlier, after Grandpa lost his hard-fought battle with cancer and gained indescribable glory, and the second was less than three years earlier, when we said goodbye to little cousin Wyatt, a precious little boy who far too soon slipped from his momma’s arms to the arms of his Creator. The pain was unbelievable, the reality unacceptable, the tears unstoppable. We sang ‘Soon and Very Soon’ around his tiny casket, just as we had around Grandpa’s casket. Just as we had around Wyatt’s.

The grave-side service was over, but I knew this only because the music and talking had ended. My family remained unmoving, frozen, staring in disbelief at the casket that held only the shell of the little boy we loved.

But then the most incredible thing happened—it's an image that forever will be engrained in my memory. My dad and his four brothers got up and surrounded my Aunt Mary, their only sister and the mother of sweet Payton, and wrapped her completely in their arms.

These five grown men surrounded their only sister, together grieving the loss of Aunt Mary’s little one and their precious nephew, but I knew those five grown men were just as deeply grieving the impossible pain that their only sister was feeling. The six of them stood together unmoving, as if to remind each other that nothing could break them apart, as if to tell the devil that he would never have his way with my family. I don’t know what happened inside that circle; I imagine they wept together, grieved together, called together on the name of the King of Kings. And though I couldn’t hear what was happening, I could see the white knuckles of my uncles and my dad as they desperately clung to each other for dear life, fighting their way through this unimaginable situation, and collectively supporting and tightly embracing their sister. They were truly holding each other up, truly clinging to each other for support.

Rarely, dare I even say never, have I been so deeply moved by a display of physical support as I was that day.

UNSHAKABLE, UNBREAKABLE LOVE.

This year, remembering Payton’s life brought back with full force the memory of my dad and his siblings clinging to each other. That day my understanding LOVE deepened, as did my desire to love. And as I continue to grow into this thing called adulthood, I know without a doubt that some of my most precious gifts from above are my three siblings who would stop at nothing to be that unmoving, clinging, hold-me-up support in my time of need. Those ties are the ties that bind.

I’m tied forever to Bobby, whose heart beats for justice, who stood up for me on the GHCS playground, who wholeheartedly encouraged me into this field of work, who sat on me as a child when I called him ‘Roberta’, who a year ago was the only other person in my family to know where (and what!) Azerbaijan was, who in just a few months will be SUCH a good father, who will probably change the world, who has absolutely changed me.

I’m tied forever to Katie, whose heart swells with love and empathy for the young and disadvantaged and forgotten, who was my childhood partner-in-crime, who is an overcomer, who is a pryr warrior and my biggest fan, who has a powerful chin which she used as a weapon as a child, who is genuine and transparent, who will probably change the world, who has certainly changed me.

I’m tied forever to my little Holly, whose heart overflows with love for not just the Latin world, but for the whole world, who as a child found so much joy in passing love notes between the handmade mailbox on her bedroom door to the one on mine, who watched and imitated and followed me everywhere until I left for college, who is unshakably dedicated to the King and his work, whose heart breaks for social injustice, who will probably change the world, who has definitely changed me.

I don’t always fully realize the scope of this blessing from the King, but what a sweet blessing it is. And how amazing to know that our years together on earth are nothing when compared to the eternity we have because of the Son!

SO thankful that we have HOPE. SO thankful that this life is just the beginning. Without this knowledge, days like that day at the cemetery would be unsurvivable. After all is said and done, this fact remains indisputable, irrefutable, undeniable: Soon and very soon, we are going to see the King! Hallelujah! We’re going to see the king.

Payton David, you changed our family. I love you, Bud.

Waiting for THIS moment:

[When we arrive at eternity’s shore, where death is just a memory and tears are no more….]