God, Gavin, And Me

Today I began a brand-new chapter as a Ministry Relations Manager (MRM) with Joni and Friends. 💙

After more than 30 years working as a Registered Nurse, I am stepping into a calling that God has been quietly writing into my life for far longer than I ever realized.
Looking back, I can see that this journey probably began 24 years ago with the birth of my oldest child, Gavin.

Gavin was impacted by autism and, in ways I could never have understood at the time, God used his life to begin shaping my heart for this work. Through Gavin, I learned, and am still learning, what it means to advocate, to persevere, to trust God in uncertainty, and to walk alongside families navigating the unique blessings and challenges of disability.

One milestone along that journey was the creation of the Autism Mother-to-Mother Luncheon, that was started in 2007, after God placed it on my heart. This Luncheon is a Christ-centered ministry that helps mothers of children with autism grow in their relationship with Jesus Christ while raising a child with special needs. I didn't realize it then, but God was already planting seeds.

Over the years, He continued to water and nourish those seeds. He placed people in my path, opened doors I never could have opened myself, and created opportunities that seemed unrelated at the time, but now fit together like pieces of a puzzle. Again and again, He was preparing my heart.

I've often told people that I felt like I had been sitting in God's waiting room for years. I knew He was calling me toward something, but I couldn't quite see what it was. There were moments of excitement, moments of uncertainty, and moments when I wondered if I had misunderstood altogether. But God was never absent. He was working behind the scenes. If I told you all the ways He has orchestrated this path, many of you would find it hard to believe. Yet that's often how God works. While we are focused on the next step, He is writing the entire story.

This past December, our family experienced the devastating loss of Gavin when he passed away unexpectedly following a seizure. There are still questions I cannot answer and devastating grief I continue to carry and will always carry this side of heaven. I do not yet fully understand how his death fits into God's greater plan.

But I know this: God is a Redeemer.✝️

He brings beauty from ashes. He brings purpose from pain. He wastes nothing.

As I begin this new role serving churches, individuals with disabilities, and their families, I carry Gavin's legacy with me. His life helped shape this calling, and his impact will continue through the work God has entrusted to me.

Today I am filled with gratitude, humility, and excitement for what lies ahead. More than anything, I am thankful that God never stopped working, even when I couldn't see it.

If there's one thing I've learned, it's this: when God places a calling on your heart, be willing to trust Him with the process. His timing is rarely our timing, and His plans are often bigger than anything we can imagine. What feels like waiting may actually be preparation.

Thank you to everyone who has encouraged, prayed for, and walked alongside me throughout this journey. I can't wait to see what God does next.

"To all who mourn... He will give a crown of beauty for ashes." — Isaiah 61:3

Let’s make Heaven Crowded!

To my Gman 🧡, I miss you and I love you every minute of every day, I look forward to our reunion day in Heaven with our Savior.

To God be the Glory! 💜✝️🙏

Today was a day filled with so many emotions. Our sweet Gavin was honored as the honorary athlete at the Special Olympics held at West Perry High School.

For many years, Gavin looked forward to Special Olympics with excitement and joy. It was something he enjoyed participating in— the friendships, the cheering, the sense of belonging, and simply being part of something! Seeing him honored today was both heartbreaking and beautiful, reminding us how deeply he touched the lives of everyone who knew him.

We are incredibly grateful to Jennifer Dillman for her kindness in reaching out and asking for Gavin to be honored at this year’s event 🧡. That thoughtfulness means more to our family than words can ever express. Knowing he is still remembered and celebrated helps keep his beautiful spirit shining on.

As we waited for the ceremony to begin, a butterfly gently fluttered across the field. In that quiet moment, it felt like a little piece of Gavin was with us — a gentle reminder that love never truly leaves us. 🦋

Though we miss him every single day since losing him in December, today reminded us that Gavin’s light continues to live on through the memories, smiles, and love he left behind. 🧡

“So with you: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy.” — John 16:22

🧡🧡🧡

While the quote doesn’t need much more elaboration as to the point being made, I think one additional point is important to remember.

We often won’t see how those broken pieces are used in the lives of others. It could be that our suffering is to be stewarded in a more public and far-reaching way, or it may be the impact that our life has on a select few around us, and the ripple effects go on for generations. Sometimes we are given glimpses, but there is a temptation to put our hope in seeing our pain be used or see immediate redemption in a measurable way that feels equal to what we we’ve lost. God often calls us to simply trust him with those broken pieces, even if we never see how he is using it.

It’s easy to slip into the subtle belief that God owes us visible earthly evidence of redemption in a way that makes our pain feel worthwhile. Sometimes we do get to see glimpses, which remind us he is always at work. But often, he simply asks us to trust him that he is working in a million ways while we often only see one or two of those (if any at times). He wants our hope to be in him, not in what we can see and make sense of.

I wonder if part of the joy of heaven will be getting to see all the ways God was at work in and through us in ways we couldn’t see. What sweet rejoicing it will be to see ways that each piece of our shattered life was used to bring healing, hope, and life through Jesus’ redemptive work.

Friend, if all you can see is what’s broken right now, know that God is at work in ways you can’t see. Not one shattered piece will be wasted in the hands of Christ. I’m asking for the faith to believe that right along with you.

But also be confident in this: God has good in store for YOU. He is not merely using your pain for the benefit of others, he is first and foremost working for your ultimate good as one he deeply loves. He is not in the business of “using” you for the gain of another at your expense, but instead redeeming your pain in a way that blesses you and reflects his glory into the lives of many.

As we traveled to Grace’s college graduation on Friday, I quietly asked the Lord for a “Godwink”—a small, personal reminder that Gavin was with us, celebrating from his heavenly home.

Later, at our Airbnb, I opened a random drawer looking for TV instructions… and instead found one single puzzle piece. Just sitting there. Waiting. Right on top of a National Geographic magazine.
If you knew Gavin, you know how deeply meaningful that was.

Puzzle pieces have always been part of his story—autism, the email address I created 20 years ago that begins with “puzzlepiece,” his love for puzzles, and how incredibly talented he was at completing them. His celebration of life photo was from a time in Maine when he was working on a puzzle.

And if a puzzle was missing a piece? That wasn’t acceptable to Gavin 😊🧩
We would make the missing piece ourselves—cut from cardboard, colored just right, and placed perfectly where it belonged. Only then was the puzzle complete.

So to find that one single piece, in such an unexpected place, at such a meaningful moment… it felt like more than coincidence. It felt like love. Like presence. Like a gentle whisper saying, “I’m here.”

God is so good ❣️

“You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.” — Psalm 56:8

🧡 And to this truth I cling:

“If we could see and know what [our loved ones] see and know on the Other Side, our sadness would be overshadowed by joy and we would live on the edge of our seat in eager anticipation of joining them there. In the meantime, we wait, walk, and work—sometimes weeping, always worshiping.” – Nancy DeMoss Wolgemuth

❤️❤️❤️

All my prayer warrior friends out there, we are requesting prayer for the hundreds of volunteers that are working today and tomorrow to make the Autism Mother to Mother Luncheon happen!

We are also asking for your prayers over the event and all of the wonderful women who will be attending  at our Chambersburg, Stroudsburg, Harrisburg, and Lebanon locations!

Thank you for lifting us up in prayer!
To Him be the glory! ✝️🙏💜

Sharing below from Dee’s post, this makes my heart 💗 happy! Thank you Dee and Kenyay for remembering Gavin and helping to make Heaven crowded!🧡

Church flow today!! Kenyay was so honored to wear his God, Gavin and you shirt to church today, in "honor" (his words) of Gavin's life. He keeps saying "mom you never told me Gavin was sick!" because of his age. Something that I have to work through with him regarding death.
Today, he wore this shirt with pride and made sure any who commented on the shirt saw the ENTIRE shirt! "Make Heaven Crowded!"

EASTER PROMISES HOPE—EVEN FOR HEARTS THAT ARE ACHING.

Maybe you’re feeling the same emptiness we are—Gavin’s earthly chair will be empty this Easter.

An empty chair.
A quieter heart.
Love with nowhere to land.

But Easter isn’t just about celebration—
it’s about resurrection.

Scripture says we “grieve, but not without hope” (1 Thessalonians 4:13).
Jesus said, “Because I live, you also will live” (John 14:19).

Even in his grief, David held onto this promise:
“I will go to him, but he will not return to me” (2 Samuel 12:23).

So even in the ache, I hold onto this truth:

Gavin is alive in Christ.
And this separation… is not forever.

Because of the empty tomb,
we don’t just look back in memory—
we look forward in promise.

If today feels heavy, you’re not alone, and yet, we can find hope because, He is risen!
And because He lives… love and hope live on.

To God be the glory 💜