Posts tagged Mitchell's Journey In Action
SPEAKING: Building Resilience Into Our Lives

Chris was asked to share two presentations at a conference aimed at mental health and wellness. The first address was about “how to build resilience into our lives”, and the second topic, “where do we go when life changes?” In the conference’s final keynote, Shris shared his concept of points of light and how, when we do the deep work of reflection, we can find gratitude for the past, peace in the present, and courage to face an unknown future.

MITCHELL'S JOURNEY GUEST ON PODCAST
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A Mitchell’s Journey reader-turned friend invited Chris to be a guest on her podcast. In this interview, you’ll hear his perspectives on Mitchell’s Journey, making sense of suffering, and the pursuit of meaning and purpose.

Chris Jones lives in Salt Lake City, Utah with his wife, Natalie and 3 living children. Their son, Mitchell Jones passed away from heart failure in 2013. He had Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy, a catastrophic muscle wasting disease that is fatal.

MITCHELL'S JOURNEY HOPE KITS

I’ve spent the last few years developing Mitchell’s Journey hope kits with the goal of helping those who struggle. Today I received the first part in an assembly line of inspiration and tools. In about 4-5 weeks we’ll begin shipping these to DMD families - and with the support of more donors, I’d like to send these kits to anyone who is looking for a little light during dark times. This is just the beginning of a much bigger effort to help people make sense of struggle, find glimmers of hope, and observe their lives (however dark things may seem at the moment) surrounded in points of light. I’ll post more as the other parts of this kit arrive.
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Special thanks to @ptctherapeutics for giving our foundation a grant to help this project launch and serve the DMD community. We’re also grateful for @agcutah for a donation to support this project’s mission to serve the greater good. #mitchellsjourney

LETTERS TO MY SON: IN THE DARK OF NIGHT

Dear Mitch,

This time of year brings you back to me … in ways I can’t explain.

For you, the holidays were always magic. Sure, you loved Santa and things, but you treasured the magic of family and being together more – it's ironic that the gift you treasured most was the very gift you gave to others.

I find it interesting that your favorite time of year was always the darkest and coldest. There’s some beauty to that – for it is only in the dark of night that we learn to appreciate light and warmth.

My son, if you could see what your light has done to lift and serve others. Your life has inspired many to show up with their art, strangers who saw your story and combined their compassion with their passions and shared beautiful stories, strangers who are now friends remember your life and loss and honor it with theirs. If anything, you have shown me anew that the human family is one family.

All over the world, people are making changes for the better.

And they take that light, that spark of meaning and purpose, and become a light to others. Whether they’re serving friends, family or complete strangers … they are lights.

Though you were small in stature, the impact you continue to make is no small thing.

When I look back, I can see so many points of light. So many blessings, big and small. They were as real and miraculous as anything I know. The timing of your life and everything that happened in it was a miracle. You are, sweet boy, like all of us, woven in a tapestry of light.

I don’t get to hold you anymore, but I can hold you in my heart. That is all we can do when we lose the one we love. You are the wind in my face and the lift to my soul.

I treasure my memories with you.

Some of my memories are hard – and I hang on to them, too. I don't shut them out because they remind me how fragile life is – and the need to make the most of the time we have. For one day, we will all die and go to that place beyond the hills.

When I lost you, we were surrounded in darkness. But as I allowed my spiritual eyes to adjust, I saw there was more, much more, happening behind the veil of darkness.

Were we to see through the window of life and peer beyond, I think we’d be awestruck by how much light surrounds us.

We’d be breathless to know we have not, and never will be, alone.

But for reasons we don’t yet know, that door is shut and we must learn to see through the eyes of faith.

I cannot see what’s over there … but I can see what is right here. And I believe. I believe in the goodness of the human family. I believe we’re inspired to love and serve … to make the world a better place in any way we can … in every way we know to do.

I miss you. And though I don’t get to make new memories with you, I can make new memories because of you. I’m learning to live without you – and it’s hard sometimes. But each day I’m getting stronger.

Each day I’m inspired by others, who serve because of you.

I’m not afraid of the dark anymore. Instead, I look upward and search for light. And I see it everywhere.

Well, this is dad, sighing off, for now. Thank you. Thank you for being my son. My teacher. My light.

This holiday, I’ll remember that no matter how difficult life can seem at times, there are blessings along the way. I will look for them because I know, I just know, they show the way.

Love,

Dad