View fullsize

A few weeks ago I stumbled into an old 2004 Christmas card I made with my little family. Each card was a chocolate bar covered by custom wrapper with a short update on our family. I don’t recall any companies making such things back then but that never stopped me from trying something new. Natalie and I printed, cut and adhered each wrapper to every bar. 

I wasn't a designer and this was my first crude attempt at doing this. It wasn't very sophisticated and was more a labor of love than anything. We got better at it over the years but I learned early on it is never really the thing we give that matters; but rather the meaning behind the thing that makes our heart sing. So, when I saw this chocolate bar my mind was awash with memories and warm feelings of a time long gone; a time my children used to crawl over me and wrestle me to the ground when I came home from work. A time before Mitchell’s diagnosis. A time before grief, disappointment and darkness. 

When I saw that clunky little card I was grateful I had the gift of my children and felt a glimmer of hope there will be gentler days ahead.

On the back of the chocolate bar was something that looked very much like any chocolate bar you might purchase, only the words were about our family. 

There was a block of text that read:

Laura-Ashley (6 years old) is an artist. She spends a great deal of her spare time drawing pictures and constructing stapled paper books for us to read. She is the top student of her Kindergarten class.

Ethan (4 years old) is an absolute sweetie. Very kind to others and has become quite an entertainer of adult audiences. He likes to sing and build things with blocks and Legos and is rather proficient with a computer.

Mitch (2 years old) is a wonderful cuddler. Mitch has learned to stand up for himself and often provokes his older brother by slapping his back and running off laughing. We’ll have to keep an eye on him. ;)

Where you might ordinarily see “Nutrition Facts” I replaced with the following “Spiritual Facts”

_____________________________
SPIRITUAL FACTS
Serving Size 1 Child (between 15 & 30 lbs.)
Amount Per Serving
Joy & Rejoicing ………………….100%
Love ……………………………... 100%
Patience
- On a good day …...….……. 50%
- On a bad day …...……...…. 100%
Laughter ………………………… 100%
Compassion …………………….. 100%
Fulfillment ………………………. 100%
Happiness ………………...……... 100%
Heartache ……………..………… 20%
Empathy ………………………… 100%
_____________________________
FAMILY IS GOOD FOR THE SOUL

We replaced the actual ingredients with the following:
INGREDIENTS: MILK CHOCOLATE, A LOT OF LOVE AND APPRECIATION FOR FAMILY, SOME GOOD MEMORIES, A COUPLE OF BUMPS AND BRUISES, AND A LOT OF LAUGHTER.

There were a few other things on it, but you get the idea. Knowing what I know now, I might change a few things: heartache, for example, would go from 20% to 2,000,000%. Love, from 100% to infinity and far beyond.

We only made 100 of these and I kept 2. The chocolate has no doubt gone bad by now and lost its savor; a reminder that everything material has a shelf life. Unlike the chocolate, however, the sweetness of family gets better and better over time. A reminder, too, everything that matters only gets sweeter if we are true.

View fullsize

On December 24th, just as we were about to spend time at home as a family we delivered some gifts and quilts to Primary Children’s Hospital CICU (the same place that cared for our little boy). Nobody has cardiac failure on their schedule so you almost always end up unprepared to stay there. With that in mind we took some quilts that were donated to Mitchell's Journey and other gifts we gathered along with messages of hope to give to some of the families that found themselves there Christmas Eve. 

We would like to involve as many Mitchell’s Journey followers as are interested next year and try to bless as many lives as humanly possible. 

These quilts were donated by loving hands and hearts from Pipestone Minnesota. A follower of Mitchell’s Journey, Nichole Rieck, who has since become a dear friend to our family mobilized people in her community to help Mitchell’s Journey last spring and the echo of that effort continued on this day as these quilts found a home and tender hearts to comfort. A few of these quilts were made by Mavis Holt, an 87-year-old woman, who hand sewed the most intricate works of warmth and art. Karla Whipple, also from Pipestone, Nichole, and others generously made beautiful quilts and donated them in hopes that it might help. 

Our greatest desire was that those who found themselves away from the comfort of home and the flickering light of a fireplace but instead lay under the flashing lights of monitors and endless beeps found a little comfort that night.

As we parked the car and walked to the hospital I found myself struggling to breathe. For a moment it was hard to go back there. Part of me wanted to run down the hall in desperate search of my son. My knees were weak and my heart was racing as my eyes began to swell. Even though it has been almost a year, it felt like we were just there a few days ago. But as we walked toward the building and I saw my wife and kids cheerful and anxious to help others, my tears turned from sorrow to love and appreciation. Suddenly my heart, which moments ago, was heavy as lead became light as snow. 

I don’t know many things, but what I do know is our sorrows can be swallowed up in the service of others. The moment we set aside our own hurts to lift someone else, who also hurts, both burdens are made light.

Be the spark: https://vimeo.com/81345868

View fullsize

Last Christmas Mitch had two Secret Santa’s that each did a variation on the 12-days of Christmas. This daily act of love was performed by two caring neighborhood families, who to this day have remained anonymous. I was humbled how they went out of their way to give Mitch a lift and offer a glimpse of hope and happiness to a little boy who was very sick and parents whose hearts trembled with fear. 

Each evening at our door sat two separate gifts addressed to our son with a thoughtful note and gift from the heart. I hesitate showing one photo (as seen here) because I don’t want either of these families to think their gifts were any less valued. The truth was, each night as Natalie and I went to bed we wept tears of gratitude for both of them and we prayed that whoever was responsible for being so good to our son would be blessed 100-fold.

When I look back on my photos of December & January of last winter I am shocked sometimes to see how sick our son looked. Every day Mitch was getting sicker and weaker - but as I saw his reaction to these Secret Santa gifts he would bounce back a little and find new energy. Mitch loved the surprise but he loved the thoughtfulness even more so. Upon seeing these anonymous acts of love toward my son it occurred to me a thoughtful gift is a gift twice. 

My sweet wife, ever the thoughtful giver, has also shown me over the years by her own quiet example that gifts can be the instruments of our affection … a way of saying “I understand you” or “I care.” In the end, the gifts that last [the ones with the greatest impact] are never really about the objects we give each other but instead are found in the meaning behind them. A thoughtful gift is a gift twice.

I hope those who gave our son the gift of love and care last year know how much that meant to us – but even more, what it did for little Mitch. The photo on the right was Mitch last Christmas Eve as we were eating his favorite dinner. Mitch asked me in a quiet voice, “Dad, do you know who’s giving me those gifts?” I told him I didn't know but that I knew they loved him – else they wouldn't have been so kind. He smiled softly and said, “I wish I could thank them.”

In honor of my son’s wishes to thank whoever gave those gifts, I want to thank you for him and hope you know that your gifts were a gift twice. 

In fact, looking back, your gifts were a gift thrice.

View fullsize

From our family to you/yours, Merry Christmas! 

I took this photo of little Mitch a few years ago at Shriners Hospital the day before Christmas during one of his regular checkups. Mitch had a countdown to Christmas app on his iPod and was always so cute to count down the days because he looked forward to giving gifts as much as receiving them. 

This afternoon we took our kids to Primary Children's Hospital and donated some things to the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit (CICU) - the same unit that took care of our son. It is always interesting that in moments of sorrow or hardship how serving others can make everything seem light. Today we have felt tremendous gratitude for all that we have been blessed with. There is no sadness today - just love and appreciation.

Our hearts are full this night.