Posts tagged Courage
FEAR & COURAGE*

The door to my home office burst open with a big waft of air … “Chris, guess what?” Natalie said with a smile.  I was so startled by her sudden entry, I began to worry a pipe broke in our basement apartment and that our few newlywed belongings were being washed away.  “Is everything okay?” I said anxiously.  She paused, “I’m pregnant.” 

In that singular moment, I was overcome with two emotions.  On the one hand, I was excited because I always wanted to be a father.  At the same time, I was frightened and said to myself, “I am so inexperienced with life … am I ready for such a responsibility?”  Ready or not, we were going to have our first baby and it was up to me to rise to the challenge of fatherhood.  We were poor as church mice, trying to fight our way through college and full-time jobs.  I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t say I was afraid of the future.  I was young and afraid. 

In life or in the face of death, there are moments every human will shudder with fear … and somehow, some way, we must find a way to take up courage to face the things that frighten us. 
— Christopher M. Jones | Mitchell's Journey

Soon our little daughter joined our family and my heart was spilling over with love. She was a most precious little girl and I loved seeing her personality emerge.  Over the next few years, I saw her become an independent, feisty and compassionate little girl. Ever since she came into my life, I have tried to fiercely protect her from people who might use or take advantage of her. My greatest desire then and now is to help her see her true worth – for I love her so. Thus began our family – under less-than-perfect circumstances and in many ways under a shadow of self-doubt and fear.

By the time Mitchell was diagnosed with DMD, Natalie was already pregnant with our 4th child, Wyatt. Fearing our newest baby might have DMD, a medical professional suggested we think about aborting our baby. We dismissed the notion wholesale because we valued life more than our inconvenience. What’s more, although Mitch was diagnosed with a fatal disease, his tender life was still worth living. For he found much joy in his life, and so did we.    

We were prepared to accept our baby no matter what physical challenges he might have. As mother and father, we would stand united and love our child with all we had. We were still afraid of the future, but we faced our fear with whatever faith and courage we could muster. That was the best we could do. I suppose that is the best anyone can do.

So on this day, I’ll never forget our newborn sleeping peacefully on the examination table as Natalie took on a most ponderous demeanor. This was the moment we would discover if Wyatt had DMD. She seemed to look upon him as if to say, “Sweet baby of mine, no matter how heavy the burden, I will carry you all the days of my life.” Such is the magic of motherhood.

A blood test would soon reveal Wyatt was perfectly healthy and fear retreated like the evening tide. That night, I knelt at the side of my bed and tearfully thanked my Father for my family. I was grateful Wyatt was healthy. I was also grateful we were blessed with Mitch, broken wings and all. Though I felt inadequate, I promised to do my best to be a dad and asked that He would somehow make up the difference.

Whether I’ve faced professional insecurities or deeply personal self-doubts, I have confronted my fair share of fear, worry, and discouragement. What if I ran from fear? What if I turned my back on fatherhood and abandoned my family when we discovered Mitch was sick? I would have missed one of the most profound blessings of my life. Everything that has ever scared me, when confronted, has made me stronger.

In life or in the face of death, there are moments every human will shudder with fear … and somehow, some way, we must find a way to take up courage and face the things that frighten us.

No matter how much I want to, I cannot know the future. So, when I face fear or the unknown, I try to remember the phrase “Courage is not the lack of fear. It is acting in spite of it.” Then, I do what my sweet wife taught me years ago, I take the next best step.


These are images of Wyatt having blood drawn to screen for DMD.

There is a profound story surrounding little Wyatt: an answer to prayers, his birth and his life.  That story is shared in our Tender Mercies presentation.

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KEEP TRYING

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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MITCH & MARCO

Today we filmed the first part of a documentary on Marco Simmons, an undefeated MMA fighter who competes in memory of Mitch and in hope for many children across the world who suffer from DMD, a catastrophic muscle wasting disease.

We were so inspired by Marco, his remarkable family and the people he surrounds himself with.  This is going to be an inspirational story we can't wait to share.

Register with our new website, mitchellsjourney.org to get updates and special access to some behind the scenes footage.

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BITTER PILLS CAN BE BLESSINGS

Immediately after Mitchell’s diagnosis, he was put on a rigid dose of steroids. For reasons not completely understood by doctors, these steroids are known to keep these young boys ambulatory a little longer. The moment DMD children stop walking, they are introduced to a host of new troubles. So, keeping them on their feet as long as possible is important.

I can’t think of a hardship in my life that hasn’t been an agent of change and growth. Those bitter pills I’ve had to swallow in the past have helped me – sometimes immediately, but more often over time.
— Christopher M. Jones | Mitchell's Journey

For the first few weeks I remember watching my sweet wife break into tears as little Mitch would spit the medicine out, not wanting to take them. “How do I help my child do this important thing?” she asked. It wouldn’t take long for tiny Mitch to accept his new reality and that taking medicine was part of life for him. 

I remember this moment so vividly. It was a warm summer morning and our kids were anxious to play in the back yard. Mitch sat on our kitchen counter and looked at his mommy, wanting only to make her happy. Such is the heart of a child. He swallowed a bitter pill with a smile and then dashed off to some childhood adventure. He didn’t know why he needed to do that unpleasant thing – he trusted his parents that it was helping him.

And that is how things went over the next few years. Little Mitch always trusting and obedient, Natalie ever faithful and true to her baby boy. Never have I witnessed a more beautiful relationship than between these two. Mitch wanted only to make his mommy proud, and Natalie wanted only to keep her child healthy and happy. That is the most beautiful yet agonizing thing about parenthood – the moment we have a child our happiness and fulfillment comes in and through our children. If that is how it works for mortals, I can only imagine how it feels to our Father.

Fast-forward a few short years, in what felt like the blink of an eye, I found myself trembling at the knees as my son was dying. Mitch wanted to live and desperately didn’t want to hurt his mother’s feelings. I remember just as vividly that quiet winter night when he clung to life by a tattered thread. I imagine he, at least in spirit, looked toward his mommy in this same way. Eyes filled with love … wanting only to make her happy. Such a vision in my mind breaks me on the inside.

I remember being awoken by an unseen influence. It was as real to me as anything I have ever known in mortality. I was in a deep sleep on the floor beside his bed – exhausted beyond measure – then suddenly I was wide awake. I had a distinct impression I needed to tuck Mitch in. I rose to my feet, then fell to my knees beside him. With one hand holding his and another on his forehead, I leaned in and whispered to Mitch that I was tucking him in, just as he liked it. I told him to not be afraid. I told him I knew he was tired and in need of rest – that he could go and we would be okay. I told my son how proud his mother and I were of him. I told Mitch that he was all we ever hoped he would be, and so much more.

Thirty minutes later, he was gone. I know he heard me. I know it. 

The death of my son has been the most bitter of pills to swallow. I have never known an agony of the soul such as this. Grief is a daily dose of sorrow that is bitter to the taste. Yet grief need not make us bitter, for I believe it has the power to make us better.

Since the passing of my son I have thought often about the bitter pills, we must swallow in life and the bitter cups from which we must sometimes drink. They are awful in the moment. Sometimes they are terrifying. But they are necessary if we are to grow. I have come to learn that bitter pills can be blessings. I can’t think of a hardship in my life that hasn’t been an agent of change and growth. Those bitter pills I’ve had to swallow in the past have helped me – sometimes immediately, but more often over time. I have discovered that with heaven’s help, the things which seemed to hurt me actually helped me. 

So, when I have moments of grief … when it seems I am choking on that bitter pill … I will follow my son’s example and trust my Father; I will have faith that my struggles are helping me be something I don’t yet have a mind to see.

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