The Boy That Taught Us to Celebrate

Thirteen years ago tonight, Jack was born, and our world changed forever.

I can still go back to that hospital room so clearly. The shock, the confusion, the fear. The uncertainty about the future, the tears, the silence, the loneliness. The desperate cries in my heart to somehow go back to before the abrupt and insensitive delivery of his diagnosis. In the days that followed came a couple of “I’m sorrys,” pity, and words that reflected a narrative around Down syndrome shaped more by fear and misunderstanding than celebration.

At the time, I didn’t know all that Jack’s life would hold. I didn’t know how much he would teach us, how deeply he would change us, or how much beauty God would bring from one of the hardest nights of my life. I just knew my heart was being changed forever.

For the last 13 years, Jack has been teaching us. 

He has taught us that every person is worthy of love, dignity, and celebration. He has taught us that life is better with music, movie lines, hugs, laughter, and simple joys. He has taught us to slow down, to notice people, to love more deeply, and to celebrate how God made each of us unique and in need of one another.

He has also taught us that a diagnosis does not define a person.

Yes, Down syndrome is part of Jack’s story. But it has never been the truest thing about him. The truest thing has always been that he is a gift. Fearfully and wonderfully made. A son, a brother, a drummer, a hugger, a cheeseburger lover, and now a teenager with opinions and attitude. He is one of God’s greatest gifts to our family.

As Jack’s first birthday approached, I found myself reflecting on our hospital stay and the experience of receiving his diagnosis. I could not stop thinking about how different those first moments might feel if families were met with hope and congratulations instead of fear and sorrow. Out of that desire, the idea for the first Jack’s Basket was born.

Going back to the hospital one year later felt deeply significant. We took the same route, at nearly the same time of day, but this time we carried a different message: you are not alone, your baby is a gift, and there is so much to celebrate. That simple act became the beginning of something much bigger than we could have imagined.

That was 12 years ago.

What began with one basket has now become thousands, bringing hope, love, and celebration to families around the world. Because of Jack’s life, families have been met with a different story. A more hopeful story. A more truthful story. One that says your baby is not a mistake. Your baby is a gift. Your baby is worthy of love, dignity, belonging, and joy.

And all of it traces back to Jack.

To his life.
To his impact.
To the way God used one little boy to open our eyes and change our hearts.

Jack has taught us to celebrate everyone.

Not because life is always easy.
Not because every story unfolds the way we expect.
But because every single person bears the image of God and is worthy of love, dignity, and celebration.

Today, as I think about baby Jack, the first basket, the boy now turning 13, and the thousands of babies and families who have now been touched by hope because of his life, I feel overwhelmed with gratitude.

Gratitude for the boy who changed us.
Gratitude for the mission that was born from his story.
Gratitude for the celebration he has taught us to extend to others.
Gratitude that God took one of the hardest nights of my life and grew something beautiful from it.

Happy 13th birthday, Jack.

You changed our hearts in the very best way. You have taught us to celebrate every life. You are one of God’s greatest gifts to our family, and because of your life, so many others have been reminded that they are worth celebrating too.

Our world is better because you are in it.