Reflections on Adoption and the Search for Loki

   National Adoption Day would have slipped right by me, had it not been for a very touching post on Facebook by the adopted daughter of a cousin of mine. Many years ago, my cousin and his wife decided to adopt a little girl in addition to their own three boys. Although Christy was just three years old at the time, she had already been in several foster homes.

   In her post, Christy expressed gratitude for her adoptive parents and for giving her a life “that all children deserve.” She remembered meeting them and her brothers, getting a new home, toys and the pastor praying for her when she was dedicated at church. But there was also a sense of overwhelming fear.

   “There is no answer to the question of feeling unlovable when you can’t mentally remember a time when you were unloved. There is no answer to the question of being terrified of being left alone, or going a little too long without food and feeling the need to hoard any you find just in case. You can’t find an explanation, because you can’t find a cause...

   “Over time, these questions without answers naturally get turned into labels that you carry. Emotional, needy, clingy, dramatic, insecure. And you hate these things, and yourself, for not being better…

   “Adoption is both beautiful and painful, a loss and a gain. Learning how to honor and balance those contradictions, that’s it. You dig. You isolate and you ache between the stages of loneliness to aloneness. And then you heal, you accept. You look in the mirror and find the only answer that there is. Yourself.” (Taken by permission from Christy’s post)

   My heart was touched by her openness in sharing the long struggle she has had. Christy just recently found information about her birth mother and learned that she had passed away. Through contact with other remaining members of the family, she was able to obtain some answers to her questions.

   I too have been searching for someone—but in this situation, the person I’m searching for isn’t related to me. And that makes my search all the more difficult. She’s almost 34 years old by now, the daughter of my dear friend, Linda Farrow.

   In 1984, Linda gave birth to a little girl whom she named Lokika, Loki for short. Although she was single, alone and without much money, the baby was the joy of her life. Linda happened to be bipolar, and one day during a manic episode left Loki in her baby carrier at the bus station. The baby was quickly found and turned over to the Child Protective Services. After much agonizing and prayer, Linda decided to give Loki up for adoption.

   As Christy wrote in her post, “…adoption is extremely painful—it starts with deep loss.” In this case, Linda as birth mother also felt a deep heart wrenching loss.  When my sweet friend died in 1999, I decided to try to find Loki.  There are pictures and stories to share, stories of Linda’s courage, infectious faith and her devotion to prayer in spite of all of the obstacles in her life. Christy’s story encouraged me to keep on trying. Loki is out there somewhere, wondering.

   This Thanksgiving, I am especially thankful for the families who have willingly sacrificed to bring little ones into their home and especially for the beautiful children the Lord has brought into our lives through adoption!

   One final quote from Christy’s post: 

   “I know now Lord why you utter no answer. You are yourself the answer. Before your face questions die away. What other answer would suffice?” (Till We Have Faces, CS Lewis)  

    

   “Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you!” Isaiah 49:15 NIV