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By all accounts, it was a perfect day if there ever was one. It was early summer and the colors of nature were lush and vibrant. The temperature was in the Goldilocks zone … not too hot, not too cold … it just right. We were visiting grandma and grandpa at their ranch in Southern Utah.

“Mitch had a gentle way about him and earned the trust of animals very quickly. That was one of his spiritual gifts, I believe … a gentle soul who brought peace to others. ”

— Christopher M. Jones | Mitchell's Journey

Among the reasons he loved to go the ranch, I believe seeing the many animals that lived there chief among them. There were horses and cows, chickens and ducks, alpacas and kittens, and of course a never-ending tribe of rabbits and baby bunnies. There was even a pet turtle. Then there were wild animals: deer, turkeys, snakes of all kind, and the occasional footprints of a mysterious mountain lion on the outskirts of the ranch.

Mitchell’s fascination with animals was matched only by his love for them.

On this occasion, Mitch wanted to visit some of our Alpacas. They’re a most curious animal … intelligent, inquisitive, alert and generally friendly. They also have distinctly unique personalities; some are docile and kind while others are a little insecure and tend to show off. The brown Alpaca (on back right) was named Javier and was especially insecure and liked to show everyone who was king of the hill. Mitch would laugh and laugh as he saw him prance around and act a furry fool.

Mitch had a gentle way about him and earned the trust of animals very quickly. That was one of his spiritual gifts, I believe … a gentle soul who brought peace to others. Though he is gone from this mortal place, Mitch still brings peace to my troubled heart – and I thank my Father for that. Sometimes I think I can feel him nearby tending to my own brokenness, ministering to my soul like an angel. For little Mitch knew what it was like to be broken – therefore, I think he can help those who are broken.

Mitch gently walked up to these alpacas wanting only to love them. At first, they were skittish, but in Mitch fashion, he somehow made them feel at peace and he was able to pet them. Mitchell smiled as he was able to serve these animals with love.

At one point, the alpha alpaca turned away from Mitch probably to see if Mitch was pet another side to him. Suddenly, that alpaca’s instincts took over and he kicked Mitch in the thigh … and hard. Mitch didn’t cry at first but was shocked that animal would do such a thing - especially when all he wanted to do was to help. Then, as the shock wore off, Mitchell’s feelings were hurt and tears began to roll down his sweet face. Natalie lifted the leg of Mitchell’s shorts only to reveal a hoof print on his tender skin.

It didn’t take long before the trauma faded and Mitch wanted to go back and love these animals again. Mitch wasn’t angry at the animal who kicked him … he only wanted to try harder to be Javier’s friend.

In life, others have kicked me when I wasn’t expecting it. Like Mitch, I was shocked and sometimes deeply disappointed in the person. Though I wish those experiences didn’t happen, I have grown because of them. Like Mitch, I didn’t want to retaliate but instead tried to show them I wasn’t their enemy – but in fact their friend, interested in their happiness and success.

Little Mitch taught me to keep trying. Though some people may never figure it out – and they’ll keep kicking at me, I will be at peace knowing I kept trying.

For when I try, I grow. Life's too short to live it angrily, this much I know.

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Happy Valentines to a little boy who broke my heart and helped me rebuild a better one.

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To celebrate Valentines Day, we visited Mitch, then went to Olive Garden, his favorite RESTAURANT.

Laura-Ashley was away at college and we missed having her with us.

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Mitchell's older brother and best friend with his mother.  Two people who meant so very much to Mitch.

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natalie's valentine decorations for little Mitch.

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For many reasons, this is a tender time of year for Natalie and me. Earlier this morning, Facebook showed me this photo 4 years ago today. Mitch was fading and time was more valuable than all the riches of earth. While his heart was failing, ours was breaking. 

“The great irony of hardships is they have the power to make our joys sweeter if we listen to the tender lessons of pain. ”

— Christopher M. Jones | Mitchell's Journey

4 years on, the deep sadness I once felt has been replaced with a clear sobriety about life. The truth is, I experience greater joy than ever before, I love my family more than ever, and I appreciate moments more than any time in my life. I feel more peace than pain and more gratitude than grief. 

The great irony of hardships is they have the power to make our joys sweeter, if we listen to the tender lessons of pain. It doesn't happen all at once, in fact ... at first it seems to take forever ... but peace comes eventually. 

Eventually.

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I stumbled across this photo the other day and was taken back to the time when all our children were little. On this day we were at grandma’s home for a family dinner.  Little Mitch sat patiently in his chair as his mommy filled his plate with a healthy balance of vegetables and other things.  “Sank you, mommy”, little Mitch said with a soft voice.  Like all young children, he loved his mom and wanted to make her happy.  If only our children knew how much their mother’s loved them.  It is only when children become parents they begin to understand the depth of such love. Then, and only then, can such a splendor be known.

“... when we serve, we love.  And when we love, we heal.”

— Christopher M. Jones | Mitchell's Journey

I remember this era of our life so well.  It was a time of late nights and exhausting days … sticky fingers, dirty shirts, runny noses and little messes around the house that seemed to spring up out of nowhere.  Sometimes it felt like the days were too long and the nights, too short.  But in all of that struggle, or better said, in all of that service, deep love began to grow. 

How exactly love grows is something the world often forgets. There is so much anger and vitriol in society today, it's a wonder we haven't burned the world in a mindless rage.

One thing my little ones taught me is service begets love and healing.  I can’t think of a time in my life where I served someone (even a stranger) that I didn’t grow to love them.  Even if it was as simple as helping someone with their bag at an airport, or letting someone in a hurry go first in line … when I find ways to serve others, I grow to love them.  Service changes us from the inside out; it turns hate into happiness, jealousy into joy, and grief into gratitude.  If there is a single antidote for much of what ails family and society, it is simply service.  When we serve, we heal.

Do you want to turn a foe into a friend?  Find a way to serve them.  Are you mad at a family member?  Do something for them that shows, despite unsettled feelings, you still care.  In times of trouble the best way out, I’ve learned, is to lay down my weapons of war and serve the person I’m at odds with.  Certainly, it takes two to resolve a conflict … and it doesn’t work all the time … but it works more than it doesn’t.  I can live with those odds.

What’s the one thing our children teach us?  They teach us service is the foundation to love. Service gives meaning to our lives and renews our souls.  Service can be inconvenient at times – as it should be: for nothing of value comes easily.

The night Mitchell passed away, I sat at the foot of his bed and wept as I contemplated our [nearly] 11 years together.  I remembered the times I served him:  when I gave him piggybacks up the stairs because his legs were too weak to climb, or the times I read to him before bedtime or helped him with school projects.  I wanted to keep serving him and my heart was broken that I could not.  My last act of service was to tuck my son in for the last time and whispered in his ear how proud I was of the life he lived.  I told him I would spend the rest of my life trying to live up to his example … that his daddy wanted to be just like him.  I gave him permission to go to the other side and assured him he would be okay.  He heard me, then passed away 30 minutes later.

If ever I needed peace and healing, it was then … in the aftermath of that profound loss.  For the wilderness of grief was dark and deep – a pain so great, I wanted to close my eyes drift away into eternal sleep. 

I have healed a great deal over the last 4 years, and much of that healing (in addition to Heaven’s help) has come from setting aside my own sorrows and finding ways to serve others.

I am grateful for this photo because it reminded me of a simpler time in my life … a time when I was picking up on the supernal lesson children teach us … when we serve, we love.  And when we love, we heal.