If I really got serious and finished my book, would you read it?
This is a story that only God could have written. I did not set out for my life to look the way that it looks today. There are so many things that I wouldn’t have written into my story. Some really bad stuff that I simply would have left out. Some really awesome stuff that I wouldn’t have even thought of putting in the story in the first place.
Much of the story of my life is like an unsolved mystery. Some of it is like a magical romance. But most of it is like a drama that keeps you on the edge of your seat, knowing that there must be a happy ending just around the corner.
God is a good writer.
I am mediocre at best.
So as I write this story, please know that it is really His story. As I write, please understand that what happens on the pages to come is really just me catching up with God’s plan for my life. What you will experience in this story is simply me discovering the beauty of His plan for my life in the midst of incredible joy and seemingly insurmountable pain.
I am a mother to seven fantastic children. Four of my children are adopted. Three of those children have special needs. It was never my idea be the mother to what come consider a “large” family, and never in my wildest dreams did I think I would have three children with special needs.
We started our family the way most of the world starts a family. We had three amazing children and our family was happy. My children could all feed themselves, dress themselves, and wipe their own noses. They were all potty trained. They were all in school. We drove a minivan. Two boys, one beautiful girl…we were a happy, middle-class American family, living what to some might feel like a dream.
And then our lives changed. Our dreams changed. Things that seemed important no longer mattered. And things that we never dreamed would burn in our hearts became like a fire that just wouldn’t go away.
Adoption changed our lives forever. We will never be the same.
I am writing a story that is still being written. I don’t even know how this story ends, but I am so grateful that it is being written and that the story of my life was woven into the story of the lives of the incredible children you are about to meet.
For you created my inmost being;
You knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together,
Your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.
I like to imagine the Father, my Creator sitting in a massive stuffed chair in a grand library (you know like the library in “Beauty and the Beast”), surrounded by ceiling to floor shelves with so many books it is impossible to count. On the spine of every book is a name. The name of one of His creation. And somewhere among the countless book, there is one with my name embroidered on the spine.
My name. Tracie Lee Mickey Loux.
I look and I watch as the Father pulls that book off the shelf, gets settled into His chair, and begins to flip through the pages. I watch in wonder as he reads quietly to Himself, at times throwing His head back in laughter, at times wiping tears from His eyes, at times with a tender look of lovingkindness like none I have seen before. He reads with love in His eyes. And then He writes some more. He writes things that have not yet happened. He writes the story of my life. All of my days. Each one ordained by Him.
And He wrote four other books that I would like to share with you. I am not the Author, I am just the observer, the one He has chosen to participate in these beautiful love stories.
Once there were four children, formed in their mother’s womb.
Created by God.
Fearfully and wonderfully.
Before they breathed their first breath,
Their Maker knew them.
He called them by name.
He breathed LIFE over them.
He dreamed a dream,
And they became.
Fearfully and wonderfully made.
Nothing was hidden from Him.
The One who created them saw it all.
He began writing. A story. Their story.
One called “Elia.”
One called “Aiden.”
One called “Emma.”
One called “Matthias.”
As He penned each word,
He was pleased.
Then He sat back and watched the story become all that He dreamed it could be.
He took great delight in watching their destinies come to life.
He watched every step.
Even from afar, He saw them.
And He delighted in them.
He directed them.
Protecting them in front and behind.
His hand was upon them.
He kept them steady.
He was the light that led the way.
He held out His hand, and He never let go.
He sat back, eager to enjoy the story unfold.
Knowing every word from beginning to end, yet still, He delighted in their journey.
The wonderful works of His hand.
Free to become everything He created them to be.
Dancing into His story.