The Life You Imagined: The Story of Ricky: A Child Lost Then Found

Once upon a time there was a little boy, whose name I didn't know, but whose face I fell in love with through a small picture on my adoption agency's online photolisting of children in need of a family. I was only looking through the photos as a habit. Once a month or so I would peruse the pictures, as I loved to see the words on the childrens' photos change from "I need a family" to "I have a family!" But one day, there was a new photo of a little boy with dark hair and dark eyes. As I looked at him, I just knew in my heart that he was my son. It's hard to explain or understand....but his photo impacted me in a way that the hundreds of others before it did not. I tried to put it out of my mind. I tried to stay away from the photolisting, but a week went by, then two, and I had to look again. He was still there. Two weeks later he was again still there. I knew he was waiting for us.

I told my mom, who encouraged me to inquire about him. Without telling Roger, I called the adoption agency and asked for more information. I was told that his name was Ricky L., and that he lived in an orphanage by the name of "Bethany Christian Home for Children" in Talakag, Bukidnon, Philippines. I was also told that he was deaf, which led to some minor developmental delays simply because he could not hear. Otherwise, he was an active, happy child who loved to play basketball and interact with the other children. He was four years old.

I felt God confirm in my heart that this was our son. I mentioned him to Roger, who was not feeling the same connection or desire to add to our family. So I prayed, and waited. And over the next month or two, God repeatedly gave me signs that He had a plan for this child to be part of our lives. The two times I specifically prayed for a sign, as I was feeling discouraged and confused, God immediately gave me one. Once, through a sermon saying that we need to do what God asks of us, even when it is hard and we are not sure of the outcome. The second, through a Bible Study speaker who, very randomly, asked us to stand and use sign language to express the words to a song. Both times I had prayed expressly hours before for a sign that we should adopt again, and that it was this child who was meant for us. Many other signs pointed me in this direction, but Roger remained unmoved.

In faith, I asked that our names be put on the list as potential adoptive parents. The days ticked by, and suddenly we were at a pivotal moment....the agency needed to know the next morning if we wanted to be considered as a family for Ricky, since there were several others asking about him and we needed to be interviewed. That night, I prayed with Roger for an unmistakable sign that would touch his heart and let him know this was what God wanted for us. If Roger woke up still feeling undecided, I would call the agency and tell them to remove us as potential parents. I knew that if Roger didn't feel a strong desire for this, despite my certainty, it was not meant to be.

The next morning I awoke to Roger standing next to our bed with tears in his eyes. What he said to me still gives me chills every time I think of it. On that February morning, he had gotten into the shower and turned on the radio to his favorite rock station. The words that rang out as he turned on the knob were these from Steven Curtis Chapman: "All I really want for Christmas / Is someone to tuck me in / A shoulders to cry on if I lose / Shoulders to ride on if I win / There's so much I can ask for / But there's just one thing I need / All I really want for Christmas is a family." A Christmas song. In February. A Christian artist. On a definitively non-Christian station. A song about a little boy who just wanted a family. And that was it. Not only did Roger know this was God's will, but he fell in love with that little boy too.

We went through the process of being interviewed, and then the terrible waiting period to find out if we had been chosen as his parents from among those who had expressed interest. On a day filled with much celebration we were told that he was ours, and from that moment on, he was and forever would be. We watched his photo caption change from "I need a family" to "I have a family!" We received updated photos and information, which were similar to what we had received earlier. We excitedly began learning sign language, unsure if his hearing would be surgically correctable or not. We bought sign language videos and books. And we named him: Kellen Luke Makai Kadey. His photo was on our refrigerator. We looked at him and prayed for him daily for almost a year as we completed all the required paperwork for the adoption. And then our world fell apart.

Three months before we were to travel to bring our son home, we received a package in the mail from our adoption agency. Our final papers. We were SO looking forward to it, as it would hold the most current photo of our son. Our agency, knowing our excitement, forwarded the package to us without looking inside first. I pulled out the paperwork, and on top was the photo of Ricky. My stomach dropped. I knew something was not right. He was not looking straight ahead. But what stood out the most was that he looked like he just wasn't "there." It is hard to explain. I just knew. And then my eyes fell on the medical update. The word "autism" burned into my heart. And there was the truth that had been withheld from us.....9 months previous to this update he had been diagnosed with autism. At almost 5, he could not dress himself, feed himself, or respond to commands. Not because he was deaf. His hearing was actually completely normal. Because he had that most dreaded of words in our family: Autism. The ONE thing we knew we could not overcome. The ONLY thing that could have stopped us. The WORST possible thing we could have heard. And I fell to the ground, sobbing as I never have before, and I pray that I never will again.

The rest of that week is a blur of pain and tears. The phone call to the agency to tell them we could not continue with the adoption (they, too, had been kept in the dark). The difficulty of telling friends and family members. The discomfort as I wondered what people might think of us. The incredible depression that took hold as I dealt with the loss of a child I had come to love as my own, though we had never even met. And then, in the following weeks, seeing his face reappear on the photolisting once again..."I need a family", this time with a description of his autism. I watched that little face for a year as no one came forward to adopt him, and the guilt and sadness ate away at me, even though I knew that we had made the only choice that was best for our other children, the only choice that I knew was possible for us.

I questioned God. I was bitter toward God. I was angry. Why did God allow all of these signs....why did He make it so very clear that this was our child, only to take him away from us? I would never have an answer. The only answer I could manufacture for myself was that Ricky was the one who led us to Kian. That the timing had to be this way or we would not have found Kian, who we know was meant to be our son. But why God had to do it this way....with all the pain and guiilt involved? I'll never know until I stand before Him in person. It took a long time for me to trust that God was really speaking to me. I felt He had tricked me. I still have trouble trusting that what I think God is telling me is truly from Him. The infernal "WHY" continues to echo.

We eventually went back to the photolisting, trying to trust that God's signs to adopt were certain, even if Ricky was not the one. That's when we saw the face of Kian, and once again, he found his way immediately into our hearts. Without knowing where he was from, we asked for more information, and to our surprise found out that he, too, was from the Philippines. It took a giant leap of faith, but we pursued this adoption, knowing the uncertainties in his health that were a factor of being born 16 weeks prematurely. We made sure we had accurate medical information, and his orphanage kept detailed records of every sniffle and sneeze from age 3 months to 2 years. He was an affectionate child, and we knew autism was not yet a problem, though you can never know for sure at that age. All we could do was pray for the best and prepare for the worst.

Flash forward several years. Kian has been home with us for two years now. He was meant to be ours....we love him immeasurably....we cannot imagine our lives without him. But Ricky's photo remained on our refrigerator. He was eventually removed from the photolisting. Over the past 3 years, I contacted the orphanage through e-mail several times to ask about his welfare, but never received a response. I found a website run by a man from England, Jim C., who had a connection with Bethany as a person who helped raise funds for them and encouraged sponsorship of children. Twice I tried to contact him, to see if there was a way I could sponsor Ricky. No response.

A week ago, I began thinking of Ricky while doing my daily chores, and as usual, the tears fell freely. God placed it on my heart to write Jim C. again, even though I was very hesitant as I didn't want him to think I was stalking him. But once again, I told him my story, and pressed "send." The next morning, I received a response. He had never received my other e-mails. But yes, he knew Ricky....had seen him the day before and even took a photo which he would attach. And yes, he still had autism. He went on to tell me that there was another girl there, Jane, who was also autistic. She received therapy twice a week thanks to sponsorship by an American family. Just yesterday, Jim said, he had told his wife that he wished there were such a family out there for Ricky. The next day he got my e-mail. He believed God's hand was at work, and so do I. The tears that flooded me at that moment were now ones of relief and joy. To know that I had the power to help this child, the great privilege of being a part of his life in this way, to receive updates and photos....this was what I had dreamed of. It was as if God finally said, "I know I closed the door, but now I am opening a window.....walk through it!"

And so we are. Walking in faith, again, as the money we need to support him is not here right now. But we will find it somehow and send it anyway. We have experienced God's blessing and care for us in times past when we have stepped out in faith without the funds we needed. I know we will see it again.