The morning before Christmas Eve, I went through my usual routine of getting up, eating breakfast, and wandering down to my computer to check e-mail and social networking sites. I am an avid Twitter user, and I started reading updates from where I had left off the night before. Early in the morning, my friend Tracie Loux posted that her brother-in-law Derek had been in a serious car accident and would we pray. I called to Tracy to let him know and kept reading. In just a few more clicks of my mouse I read the horrible news – Derek was gone. I burst into tears and wept.
It wasn’t so much for my loss, as Derek was not a close friend of mine, but Derek and his wife Reneé have 10 children – 8 of them adopted. My tears were mostly for their loss, and for the loss of a great man. Derek and Reneé were leading an adoption movement all over the word. They traveled often sharing the message of James 1:27 “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.”
Hundreds have been lead to adopt because of their work, as was evidenced at the memorial service by a display of photographs of children adopted because of Derek’s influence. Derek was also a recording artist, whose music impacted the lives of many, including ours. My small words really don’t do justice to his life, really. It’s hard to explain the deep loss that hundreds, maybe thousands felt when he passed away.
We met Derek and Reneé when I photographed their family in February of 2008. At that time, they had half the children they have now! Derek was a very loving dad, as you can see in the photos. Some of the deepest heartache for me as I pondered their loss, was that their adopted children went from being fatherless, to having a warm and caring father, to being fatherless again. I felt grief personally as well because, even in the few short times we spent with Derek and Reneé, we felt like we knew them. They were the kind of people that when you met them, you instantly felt like a treasured friend. As a result, I felt like I lost a friend that day.
Yes, we have all asked God the questions of “why” and there are never any great answers. My friend Randy wrote an excellent blog post “Reconciling What We Feel and What We Know.” He gave us permission to say “this stinks.” We all appreciated that immensely.
I already had a trip planned to Kansas City to photograph a young adult conference at the International House of Prayer, with a flight home scheduled for January 1. When I got a call from my close friend, Tracie Loux, asking how long I would be in town, and would I be able to photograph Derek’s memorial service on January 2nd, I knew I wouldn’t be making that original flight home. As difficult as this would be, I knew I needed to say yes. Saying “no” was not even an option in my mind. It was an honor to be asked, and I am grateful for the opportunity to love and bless this family this way.
The night before the service, I stayed up for a bit and researched funeral photography. I just had no idea what the protocols were, and what I should photograph. I found a few helpful tips, but I went to sleep with this prayer on my heart, “God, would you guide me through this?”
I arrived at the reviewal, hugged Reneé and Tracie and a few others, and then dove in with both cameras. I ebbed and flowed with witnessing and photographing the grief of others, while feeling my own. This was not the kind of event where I felt like I should be an objective observer. I felt that the photos would do more justice to the day if I was fully immersed with my whole heart. So I just cried and shot and hugged and shot and cried and watched. I watched for tender moments, hugs, smiles, tears, and pain. I wondered if witnessing all of this through the lens of my camera somehow intensified it. Sometimes the intensity of it all was almost too much, and I would walk away for a moment, but then I would feel strengthened, and go back to doing what I was there to do. I had asked many to pray for me that day, and I felt those prayers, and I can see the results of them in the photographs.
Throughout the day, I kept wondering about the photos I was taking. Were they any good? Would they convey the feeling of this important event? This was uncharted territory for me photographically, but I just kept shooting. I had to trust it would all work out. By the grace of God, it did. The family has been moved by the photos and have expressed their gratitude in many ways. Reneé’s e-mail after seeing the photos made me cry all over again. My heart felt so satisfied to have given her this gift. I’ve also received thank you messages from some of Derek’s children and Tracie’s son Nick, who I have been mentoring in photography, who wrote “I cannot express how much those photos mean to me.” Tracie’s little girl Elia hadn’t grieved the loss of uncle Derek, but after seeing the slideshow, she found a place to grieve. Photography can be healing because remembering is healing.
Before I share the photos, I want to point you to a few other things:
Derek’s Memorial Service Video: A video service itself is online. I challenge you to watch it in its entirety. Derek lived a life that will impact you. I don’t know a single person who was there who wasn’t challenged to live life more fully. There is also his full obituary at the bottom of that page.
Memorial Program: Download a PDF of the program handed out at the service.
Loux Family Blog: Learn more about Derek and Reneé’s family life, and read some of Reneé’s thoughts about her loss. She is truly a remarkable woman, carrying her heart in beautiful grace in the midst of the greatest loss of her life. She is such an inspiration and I just love her so much.
Adoption is Redemption: A blog entry by Derek when they were in the process of adoption their boys from Ukraine. This was his life message.
One last thing, some may think it strange to photograph a funeral/memorial service. But this didn’t feel that way at all. I cannot do it justice with words, so I will let the images speak for themselves. I asked a friend recently, who lost her mother when she was 16, if she wishes she had photos of her funeral. Without hesitation, she said she did. The day was such a blur, she doesn’t remember much. I hope what I have given the family is the ability to remember the day they said goodbye to a great father, husband, brother, son, uncle and friend.
If you want the immersive experience, view one of these slideshows (Photos set to one of Derek’s best songs “Fragrant Burning”. There are no pics of Derek, it was closed casket)
Long Version (includes reviewal, service, and gravesite plus some time at their house between the reviewal and service, and the family dinner after the gravesite)
Short Version (just the reviewal, service, and gravesite)
This little guy was originally going to be adopted by Derek and Reneé and was institutionalized before they could. Friends of their were able to rescue him from the institution and adopt him. He brought smiles to everyone’s face that day!
Sana, Derek and Reneé’s newest adoptee with Derek’s brother John. She is such a joyful little girl, her smile helped me a lot that day.
Derek’s sweet sister Heather.
Derek’s mom. I can’t imagine her pain.
Derek’s daughters and niece lighting the candles for the photo memorial.
Derek’s dad opened the service with worship.
Derek’s son Sasha worshipping in uncle Terry’s arms.
Derek’s daughter Telma, sharing memories of her wonderful dad.
Reneé honoring Jonathan, who was driving when the accident happened.
Kirk Bennett, a close friend of Derek’s, shared a lot of great stories of their travels together.
Nick, John, and Heather singing Derek’s “Fragrant Burning” song.
Lou Engle challenged us to live out Derek’s message.
Derek’s daughter Sophia danced to a song written and performed by Kirk’s daughter Abbie. She did such an amazing job. The entire place was captivated.
At the gravesite, people were given leis from the Marshall Islands, where Derek and Reneé met and fell in love. They were both missionaries there and that is where many of their daughters are from.
