It Wasn't Supposed To Be This Way

My dream was pretty typical…grow up, marry the love of my life, have a bunch of kids and live happily ever after in our cute two story home with the white picket fence. Throw in a nice little dog for good measure.

Part of the dream did come true. I married Rob, the love of my life, had four beautiful kids, lived in a two story home minus the white picket fence and add the little dog and two big dogs. Sounds like a good life until that day…

In 2001 my husband developed what we thought was a bad cold with bronchitis. He was susceptible to upper respiratory infections and got them once a year like clockwork. This particular year, we didn't think anything out of the ordinary until it refused to go away. Our primary doctor was out of the country for a while so my husband saw her assistant. After several visits with no end in sight, she referred us to a pulmonary specialist. It was when he did a routine endoscopy that we were blindsided by the word no one wants to hear…cancer.

I still remember that exact moment the doctor gave us the news. Time stood still as my husband and I held onto each other and cried. Our four children sat out in the waiting room oblivious to the fact that their lives had changed forever.

Driving home from the hospital that day. I remember talking to God and saying, "I just want to know how this is going to work out Lord. Will he live or will he die? I just want to know." I was under the impression that if I knew what was coming, I'd be able to handle it better.

Over the next three years we prayed, quoted Scriptures on healing and refused to entertain any comments to the contrary. When my husband was in his last days, the doctors tried to prepare me for the inevitable but I refused to give up. Surely God was going to intervene. I had worship music playing in his room around the clock and even went so far as to throw a nurse out of his room for speaking negatively about my husband's condition. A few days later, I found myself a widow and a single mother wondering how we would survive.

It's been over 20 years now. It's been a long, hard road in many ways. There have been ups and downs, successes and failures. When I look back at the journey, I'm amazed at how I made it through.

For the first ten years, I could barely pray. I questioned myself and I questioned God. Was my faith not strong enough? Where did I go wrong? I was supposed to be a woman of faith. I felt like I was the victim of a cruel joke and its name was "disappointment." I was disappointed in myself, in others and especially God. It wasn't supposed to be this way.

I remember taking a walk on a country road one summer's day and once again asking God how I got it all wrong. I heard Him say to me ever so gently, "Faith is still believing even when it doesn't go your way." Those words penetrated my soul. You see, I had felt like a fool for believing in Him. I would think about all the people who would sadly look at me while I stood my ground believing for Rob's healing.
It wasn't supposed to be this way.

Disappointment is a forerunner to despair. It needs to be recognized and dealt with before you fall into its trap. The other area it loves to take us is self-pity…I know it well. Neither one is a place where we belong.

One of the ways to defeat disappointment is to face it. As I mentioned earlier, I had a hard time after Rob passed away because I felt like a fool denying the fact that he was dying. I hoped all those doctors and nurses would forget I existed, but God in His mercy had a different plan.

It was several years after Rob's death and I was talking to a lady in my church. She was a nurse practitioner who was connected with our local hospital. As we were talking, she mentioned that she met one of the nurses who had been in the ICU when Rob was there. In fact, she was the very nurse I told to leave his room. The nurse practitioner went on to tell me that this nurse had never forgotten me…I started to cringe but what she said next almost brought me to my knees. She told me that the nurse said she had never seen such faith and it made her go and search for her own. I was humbled and amazed.

Life is full of disappointments for each one of us but I'm beginning to see that good can come out of them. The circumstances may not change but I want to believe that God sees what we don't. It may not be the way I thought it was supposed to be but it may be His. As I heard on that country road, "Faith is about believing even when it doesn't go your way."

Christmas Past and Present

By Eileen Glotfelty • December 25, 2025
My children grew up knowing what it meant to do without, especially the older two. We were on a strict grocery budget of $50 a week for a family of six. We didn't have money for snacks and treats but we never went hungry. There were times they had holes in their shoes and their boots leaked so we put plastic bags on their feet so they could go out and play in the snow. We did the best with what we had and I'd like to think my kids grew stronger because of it. The Bible says the apostle Paul learned to be content whether he had little or plenty. We tried to hold onto that. We experienced many miracles over the years in our times of need. I call them miracles because they came at just the right moment and sometimes with no explanation. One of those miracles came on Christmas Eve. I don't remember the year but I know my children were young. It had been a hard year financially as my husband was in and out of work. As Christmas drew near, our parents sent some money for presents and I was thankful but my mother's heart longed to give them more. On this particular Christmas Eve, I had put the kids to bed. The tree was up, cookies were baked and now it was just a matter of waiting. The only lights on in the house were that of our Christmas tree. It was calm and peaceful. It was then I heard a knock on the door. I wondered who it could be at that time of the night. When I opened the door, no one was there. The only thing I saw were shopping bags filled with presents. I was so surprised that it took a minute to realize it wasn't a dream. There was a shopping bag for each child. As I placed the gifts under the tree, I was filled with awe at the generosity. I don't have to tell you of the joy on their faces the next morning when they saw all the presents under the tree. Several years later I found out who blessed my family that Christmas Eve. It was a woman who knew someone in our church. She wanted to bless someone at Christmas and she was given our name. It turned out, she ran to the side of the house after knocking on our door and watched as I saw the gifts and brought them inside. I don't know if she ever realized what her kindness meant to us. If you'd ask any of my children today about those times we were blessed by others, they'd remember. It wasn't many years later that my children lost their Dad. He died in November and the holidays were upon us. Many of our family traditions were based on his love of Christmas. They seemed empty without him. When we were first married, we started a tradition of helping at least one person at Christmas time, even if it was a plate of homemade cookies. We carried on that tradition as our family grew and now we were faced with our first Christmas without him. As I remembered the joy of giving and receiving over past Christmases, I made a decision that we would carry on our family tradition. There were years we chose a family and bought gifts. There were years we went to nursing homes on Christmas morning with gifts and cookies to spend time with those who were lonely. Those were the best Christmases we ever had. The one question I've asked myself is, “Is it better to give or receive?” When we give without expecting anything in return, there's a joy like none other that pierces our soul and brings goodness and mercy to the surface. When we are on the receiving end, we feel seen and cared for and loved. So I encourage you to give and receive this Christmas for isn't that what it's all about? John 3:16 NIV “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”

The Nutcracker

By Eileen Glotfelty • December 19, 2025
I had always looked forward to being a grandmother. Both of mine passed away before I was born and I couldn't wait to have my own. When my oldest granddaughter was three years old, we started a tradition. I took her to The Nutcracker Ballet every Christmas. I would buy her a fancy dress and it became an annual date that we both loved. At first it was just the two of us but over the years it grew as we added cousins and friends. It was always a special time. Two years ago, all of my granddaughters moved down south. As Christmas approached, my heart was heavy as I realized this tradition had come to an end. I struggled with this realization and I had to examine my heart to find out why the grief was so strong. The answer came as a surprise. I thought the real reason was about not wanting to accept change and letting go of tradition but underneath it all was a fear of being forgotten. I was afraid if I couldn't carry on the tradition then some day after I was gone, the memory of me would fade away. I wanted my life to mean something to someone. I wanted to be remembered. I want to leave a legacy but I had to ask myself if it is more important that they remember me or what I stood for? Do I want them to just remember the places we went and the things we did or do I want them to remember they saw Jesus in me and they were loved, valued and accepted. That's the truth and that's what I hope they remember. I'm thankful to say this story has an unexpected happy ending. Today I had the pleasure of taking my daughter and all three granddaughters to The Nutcracker. It was a miracle how it all worked out as we all live in different states. I don't know if we'll be able to go again next year but I'm not going to worry about it. All I know is a lost dream was restored and I have a different perspective. My oldest granddaughter is now 11 and takes ballet. I watched her face as she watched the performance. There was an understanding now of hard work and commitment. She has a love and a passion that was planted when she was a little girl. This tradition isn't about me. It's about planting love and goodness and hope into future generations. I told her if she ever dances in The Nutcracker, I'll be there.

It's Ok to Let Go

By Eileen Glotfelty • November 13, 2025
If you know little boys, you know they are an entity unto themselves. Growing up, I had one sister. I played with girls and never did any babysitting as a teenager so boys and their character were foreign to me. When I had my two sons, my eyes were opened. Suddenly I had these two little boys whose brains functioned in ways I couldn't grasp. Thankfully they never set anything on fire but there was a day I'll always remember. It was a warm, sunny day. The kids were playing outside in the backyard and my husband and I were inside. Suddenly we heard the kind of scream that propels a parent into fight or flight. It was coming from the backyard and it was our son. My husband jumped to his feet and started running toward the back door. He didn't even stop to put his shoes on. I wasn't far behind. I'll never forget the scene that awaited us. At first we didn't see our son as we looked out over the yard. That was because the screaming was coming from up above. As we looked toward the sound, there he was high in a tree towering above the house. He was hanging parallel to the ground with his hands and feet wrapped around a branch. My first thought was to yell, “what in the world possessed you to climb up there?” My husband didn't need clarification. He simply ran over and stood underneath the branch where our son was hanging. He took one look at his terrified face, extended his arms out in front of him and said, “Let go, I'll catch you.” My son started screaming that he couldn't do it but my husband calmly reassured him. My son had a choice to make and I watched the resignation cross over his face and he let go of the branch. His father caught him without a problem. When I think of that time, I am reminded that the apple didn't fall far from the tree. So many times I thought I was going in the right direction only to find out I ended up in a place I didn't want to be and I didn't know how to get out. It wasn't until I cried out to my Father in heaven that I saw the way and it always started with God saying, “Let go. Trust me.” Sometimes the way was easy and sometimes it was hard but He always “caught” me and put my feet on solid ground. Psalm 40:2 says: “He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand.” If you're finding yourself in a place where there seems to be no way out, I encourage you to say these three words, “God help me.” He will hear you and He will make a way. It's ok to let go.