Fearfully & Wonderfully Made: Today, we light a candle in memory of...

As some of you know, over seven years ago our daughter Payton died at the young age of four months and twenty-five days. It is hard to believe we would have a seven year old today and that it has been seven years since she went home to Heaven. Today, December 12th is the day we remember our children who have died by lighting a candle at 7pm for one hour. Thanks to Compassionate Friends, a non-profit support group for bereaved parents, all over the world candles will be lit for 24hrs in loving memory of children who died too soon.

World Wide Candle Lighting in Memory of Children

The Christmas after Payton died, I wanted to find a way to remember and honor Payton. I found this sterling silver candle at Potterybarn and had it engraved, "Our Hearts Remember". It has been lit over the past seven years as we have honored and remembered Payton. On her birthdays, anniversaries, at family gatherings for holiday events standing in as a representation that her memory lives on, her life lives on in heaven with Christ our Light and that she will always be with us in our hearts. This candle will be lit in our home for not only Payton, but for so many other children that have gone too soon. Children I helped care for at UC Davis Children’s Hospital, children of friends who God brought into my life after our children had died and have walked alongside Aren and I in our grief journey. As well as children who I do not know but feel sorrow at their untimely deaths. One of these children who I have loved, adored and had become a part of my soul, but I never met in person is sweet Evan Newport. As some of you may have read in the past on my blog, Evan and his family mean the world to me and God has used them repeatedly over the past seven years to bless me with their friendship. The following story was written by Scott Newport, Evan’s daddy, and I wanted to share it with you on this day of remembrance.

Two for Two
By Scott Newport

“Scott did you hear what you just said?”

“Yea, what do you mean?”

“Let me play back the recorder and you can listen for yourself.” This conversation took place at a small desk on the tenth floor of a downtown hotel in Dallas Texas. Everett Marshal was interviewing me for a Children’s’ Miracle Network radiothon in the Detroit area, my home. I was there for a Patient and Family Centered Care conference, a representative for the University of Michigan’s Mott hospital. Everett and I met a few years back; he flew in from St. Louis .

Before he could play it back, I knew what he was talking about and said, “I know its sounds odd but that’s the way Penni and I thought. Her prayer was Evan would die when he was at his best. Mine was I would be there when he took his last breath.”

Evan had an incurable heart condition associated with Noonan syndrome. After spending the first 252 days of his life in an ICU we learned medicine is not an exact science and took Evan home.

As Everett and I continued to talk off- mike I remembered another prayer I pleaded to God. This was during the early months in the hospital. Penni called me one afternoon telling me to come quick as the doctors thought Evan may die in the next few hours. Evan was four months old at the time. I immediately turned my truck around and as I hurried to the hospital I prayed, “Lord please heal Evan’s heart and lungs. Lord, let your mighty strength be seen by all.” Before I could even think another thought God spoke to me in my mind and said, “Scott, what if I let Evan die and through his life my greatness will shine brightly.” That day was a turning point in my life. As a father I am always trying to fix things, make things better for family. But in this case I was helpless and that day I was comforted by knowing I could lean on my Father.

The title of this devotion is two for two but maybe it should be titled three for three. You see Evan did die last year, the day after Thanksgiving. He was doing great that morning and was playing with a Christmas globe, you know the kind that lights up and plays Christmas carols. Penni and I both walked into his home ICU and found him lifeless in his crib, both our prayers were answered.

And yes Evan’s life lives on in many shinning ways. If you walk into the University of Michigan ’s children’s hospital today you will clearly see a large hanging banner that reads, “Evan Newport Hope Award.” These are awards given to staff for excellence in patient and family centered care. Even though the HOPE is an acronym for something else, I tell folks it also means, Helping Other’s Perceive Eternity.

Evan was seven years old when he went into eternity with our God.