February 6, 2009

Today marks the day we first met Emma and Aiden. Aiden in his rainbow striped girls sweater, Emma in her mousy brown dress, two little bundles packed full of secrets, some we have discovered over the past year, and some that may never be revealed.

The day we walked into their lives changed us forever. Opened our hearts to our own weakness and pain, and to the great capacity that the Lord has given us to love.  It has been a year long journey towards love. Learning to love. And praying to love well.

Yes, you look at those dear faces and you see how much they have changed and the progress they have made, but when I look at those faces I see how much I have changed and how much progress I have made.

I’ve learned that I can’t fix everything, but I can love anyway.

I’ve learned to recognize fear, worry, and pain as it is expressed in two tiny human beings, and I am learning not to take those outward expressions of fear, worry and anxiety personally.

I’ve learned that I have so much more to learn about love.

I’ve learned that when Aiden looks in my eyes with his sparkling green eyes and touches my face, I feel like a mother and there will always be a little ache in my heart that I wasn’t there on March 1, 2006 to welcome him into the world.

I’ve learned that when Emma curls up in my lap, asking to be a baby and quivering because the excitement of being held overwhelms her, that she is just trying to go back and get what she missed out on. It might be awkward and overwhelming to her, but she needs it desperately, and it is beautiful.

I’ve learned that when Aiden cries out in the night, it means he is probably having a bad dream. I wish with all my heart that I could make it go away, and I hope with time the pain of the past no longer creep into his dreams.

I’ve learned how to help Emma communicate her needs instead cowering in a cave unaware of what she even needs in the first place.

I’m learning. I’m growing. I have a long way to go, but I’m doing it. I am determined to be a student of my childrens’ hearts for as long as they live.

For more pictures and our February 6, 2009 update CLICK HERE

A Year Ago

Hard to believe that a year ago we had just arrived in Ukraine and were awaiting our appointment with SDA (department of adoptions) in Kiev.

If you want to take a trip down memory lane start here, with NICK’S POST announcing our save arrival in Ukraine.

If you’re a new to this blog, our adoption journey to Ukraine was from February 1, 2009-March 24,2009. You can visit the archives in the side bar to find those older posts.

When my brain feels less fuzzy, I’ll be giving you all a long overdue update.

Thinkin’ Out Loud

It goes without saying that this has been an incredibly difficult month. Derek’s death has been one of those earth shattering events that has ripped through our family and has changed us forever. To say that this is hard would be an understatement. Not a day goes by when I don’t think, “I still cannot believe we are walking through this.”

We are a close family. We are holding on tight to each other and clinging to Jesus, who is our only hope. Though we have no understanding of all the “why’s” that are battering around in our brains, we know He loves us.

The devastation in Haiti has also shaken me to the very core. Thoughts of orphans stripped of  the meager provisions that they once had and those newly orphaned because of this disaster rips at my heart.  Watching those I love team up to help rescue and standing ready to care for and love on these precious ones, only to be met with red-tape after red-tape after red-tape, infuriates me. I have no idea how long it will be before Haitian orphans will be adoptable again. I’m grateful for those previously matched who are being united with their families, but I mourn for those who have no mother or father to hold them and comfort them in their grief.

I have watched over the past month as the loss of my brother, Derek, and the devastation in Haiti have provoked many to consider adoption. I have answered countless emails directing people to home studies resources and discussing the various options and needs regarding adoption.

I encourage any of you discouraged by the seemingly slammed-tight-door to Haitian adoptions, to not let that stop you from moving forward to ready yourselves for adoption. There are needs in your own backyard as well as needs all across this nation and around the world. Take that “yes” in your heart and ask the Lord, “What next?” Whether His answer is “Ukraine” or “Ethiopia” or “Uganda” or “The Department of Children’s Services” or “An Infant Spared from an Abortion,” take that yes and run with it.

And I’m not just preaching it, we’re doing it. We just finished handing in our paperwork to update our own home study. John and Derek had just talked a few days before his death about this crazy life of ours. In part of their conversation, they talked about all of the things they had “accomplished” in their lives and how the thing that they knew REALLY counted and REALLY mattered was this thing called “adoption.” They talked about their own desires to love their children well and continue loving and accepting those in who had no fathers. It was brewing on their hearts that day sitting in  the driveway talking, and it is the thing that keeps us walking forward today.

We are more determined than ever as a family to continue to speak out for LIFE and to plead the cause  of the orphan.

Thank you all for your continued support and prayers for our family.

For more information about the situation regarding orphans in Haiti visit my friend Randy Bohlender’s Blog .

Help Bring Ruslana Home

Friends like Chris and Mary Malone don’t come along every day. I remember last fall, when we started an email correspondence with Chris and Mary after realizing that we were moving forward with our dossiers at nearly the same pace. The children we were committed to adopting were at the same orphanage, and as we continued to move forward it became clear that we would even be in Ukraine at the same time.

John and I had been in Ukraine for two weeks, when Chris and Mary arrived. I still remember the day they walked into our “favorite” little restaurant and we met face to face. In the months that followed we grew to consider them dear friends.

If you were able to attend or watch Derek’s memorial service, you were introduced to Chris and Mary and their son Micah. Chris and Mary have an incredible family. They have 5 biological children (their son Eli was born with Down Syndrome.) Last year, as many of you know they traveled to Ukraine and adopted two boys with Down Syndrome.

They are currently in process of adopting a daughter from Ukraine now. “Ruslana” also has Down Syndrome and considered high risk of being moved to an institution. John and I are asking you to consider stepping up to the plate and giving to the Malone’s adoption fund.

We are committed to stand as a voice for the unwanted and unloved and to do everything we can to see these precious children brought into loving homes. If you would like to partner with Chris and Mary to help bring Ruslana home, please VISIT THEIR BLOG for details and donate!

Memorial Service Photos

We were blessed to have our dear friend Shelley Paulson attend Derek’s memorial service and document it with her incredible gift of photography.

You can view the photo slide show HERE.

Thank you, Shelley.

Derek Loux Memorial Service

Derek’s memorial service is now available for online viewing.

CLICK HERE

You can also download the Memorial Service program

BY CLICKING HERE

Welcome Home Nick

This is the kind of greeting Nick gets when he comes home from work. The toddlers love their big brother, and the feeling is quite mutual. THIS is the spirit of adoption.

Loss and Love

Loss, this kind of loss is like a hole that will just always be empty. Please don’t misunderstand, we know the love and comfort of Jesus and that He is our All-Sufficient One. We know that we have a great hope and that hope propels us forward. But loss is loss. We were made to love. And when we lose a great love, a one of a kind love like the kind Derek gave to each one of us in his family, it isn’t filled. For the rest of our lives there will be that space that was only his to fill.

Grief is an unpredictable dynamic. There is no blueprint and there are no rules. Grief does what it does. In our family grief has many faces. Sometimes grief is deep sobbing, the laughter of sweet memories, or the quietness of thoughts to precious to speak out loud. Sometime grief is words on a paper, paint on a canvas, or the lyrics to a song.

Grief takes place in unexpected places and at unexpected times. Sometimes grief comes in a used record store, on the bathroom floor, in a parking lot after buying shoes, or walking into a coffee shop.

Tonight grieving took place in the heart of my precious Elia Jane.

John and I sat Elia down the day before the funeral and explained “Uncle DoeDoe’s” death to her in the very best way we could. She was quiet, said nothing, but lay her head on my lap and whimpered while we stroked her back. After a bit, she went about her day and didn’t say a word about it.

Over the next few days, any time we would mention it, she would ignore us. Last night, as John snuggled in bed with her to pray for her and tuck her in, he asked her if she was missing “Uncle DoeDoe.” She wrinkled up her forehead and silenced him by covering his mouth. He said, “You don’t want to talk about it, Elia?” and she nodded “Yes.”

Tonight our dear friend and photographer Shelley sent us a preview of the photos she had take the day of the memorial service. The photos played in a beautiful slide show to Derek’s song, “Fragrant Burning.” The toddlers were intrigued and all three sat and watched it two times thought. The rest of the family was out of the house, and it was unbelievably quiet and peaceful. They wanted to watch it for a third time, so I ask them to move to the couch with me, and I told them that we would snuggle up and watch it one more time before bed.

As I took the laptop to the couch, Aiden and Emma climbed up next to me. Elia was coming up to the couch to climb up, and as she got to the edge of the couch, she fell forward, face down on the couch and started weeping. Keep in mind this child is not quite 3.

Every mother knows the sound of her child’s cries. The tired cry, the hurt cry, the I’m mad at you cry…. but this one was new. This was the cry of grief coming out of my precious, tiny girl.

I pulled her up to me, as the photos and the music continued to play, and she lay her head on my chest and wept. Initially when I asked her if she was sad about “Uncle DoeDoe,” she denied it with angry intensity. Eventually she admitted her pain and cried in my arms a bit longer. We finished watching and listening, and every now and then she would bury her head into me and cry some more.

Today grief looked at me through the eyes of a beautiful, two-year-old, little girl. And it was real.

Toddler Drama Strikes Again

Today’s post-nap-time-drama was by far the very worst. Fortunately for you all, we will only give you the post-game commentary brought to you by non-other-than Elia Jane Loux.

Warning: partial nudity, graphic poop descriptions, and one scene of full nudity.

Toddler’s Rockin’ out to Foreigner

We love you Uncle Derek- our very own “Juke Box Hero.” We miss you so much.