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All of us have talents and abilities.  Some are natural, others we have to work for.    As I shared in a recent post, I do some cake decorating.  I also crochet and like to sing.  These all came pretty naturally and none really surprised me but there is one that took me quite by surprise…my writing.


If you would've told me a few years ago that I would be writing, let alone sharing it with others, I would've shaken my head and laughed.   Not me, I'm a talker, not a writer.   Funny how things change.


This isn't true for everyone but my writing was born out of desperation.

What started out as a cry for help turned into a song of victory.   At first I would sit and pour out my thoughts on paper but eventually I started to notice that it was becoming more about what I was learning from my circumstances and not just the desperation for them to change. 


I'd like to share something very personal with you.  If you would see me behind the scenes getting ready to post, you'd see my finger hovering over the send button because I'm sharing private thoughts and feelings that may not have been shared with anyone else.   Whenever you use a gift or an ability and you put it out there, there is always a risk of rejection and criticism but if you believe in what you're doing, it's worth the risk.


This week I found myself entertaining some thoughts that were starting to chip away at my confidence as a writer.  I had entered a writers' challenge with a fine group of women writers from all over the world.   Forty women were going to have their work published in a book next year.  Needless to say,  I held onto the hope that I would be one of them.   


I received the notice that unfortunately my work was not chosen.  Of course I knew that was a possibility as I'm sure they received thousands of entries but what bothered me the most was how I took that rejection and ran with it.   I thought I had made some good progress in the rejection area but one email and bam, I started down that road.   My thoughts went something like this, "I'll never be good enough; I'm not in the same league as these other women; I'll never be able to write like they do."   


This afternoon, I sat with someone I trust and shared these thoughts.  I had already started to realize that it  was ok to be true to the gift I know God gave me.  I don't have to imitate anyone else.  I just need to be obedient to the message put in my heart and share it.   The lady I talked to confirmed my thoughts with one sentence, "Stay in your lane." 


I may never win any contests or awards.   I may never be published or go beyond where I am right now but you know what, I'm ok with that.  I've been given a song of victory to share.  I started this journey with a prayer asking God that He would use it for even one person.   That's all that matters. 


Before I close, I'd like to share a verse that is so close to my heart.  It was given to me back when I was crying out in desperation and my future was uncertain.


I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them; I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth. These are the things I will do; I will not forsake them.

Isaiah 42:16 NIV


I didn't understand it then, but as time goes by, I'm starting to see it come to pass.  It's not always about what we know but allowing yourself to step out and take a risk.  And when you do, stay in your lane!

Take the Time

By Eileen Glotfelty • January 15, 2025
I've heard a lot about the importance of sitting in silence and solitude. I've never been a fan of either one. Silence makes me feel awkward so I try to fill it by rattling on about something random. Most times it would've been better if I kept my mouth shut. Solitude is another story. I would never voluntarily choose to be alone. I used to think solitude was a result of rejection and I would do everything in my power to avoid it. Lately, I've been looking at both in a different light. I've been on a search for God's love for a long time. I had heard of it but it always seemed just beyond my grasp. Yesterday a friend challenged me. He asked me what my time with God looked like. I answered him honestly. God was part of a routine. I get up and don't know what to do with myself so I sit and have my “quiet time” with the Lord for lack of anything else. A default. He then told me about his time of silence and solitude. It was a beautiful thing full of raw emotion and longing. He came away feeling loved and strengthened. As he spoke, I felt something stir within me. I wanted what he had. I wanted to meet with God and to know His love. God was waiting and He wanted me to come to Him and I did. It's hard to explain but all I know is that I woke up with anticipation and expectation. I went to my chair and started thinking of times where God met me. He's carried me through many storms, held my hand as I walked through the unknown and held me as I cried many tears. He's healed my heart when it's been broken and guided me when I had no idea what to do. I remembered how He loved my kids and brought them through trauma and tragedy when they didn't know He was there. He's healed me physically and emotionally and never turned His back on me even when I turned my back on Him. As I sat there I got a sense of His mercy, love and faithfulness. Words came to my mind that were so clear that I had to write them down. In closing, I'd like to share them and encourage you that if any of it resonates, take some time and embrace the silence and solitude. God will meet you there. "Your Love Your love is peace. Your love is power. Your love is mercy. Your love is faithfulness. Your love is strength. You came as a baby. You surrendered Your power and authority for me. You suffered for me. You didn't have to, but You did. How can I ever thank You? You didn't do it for praise. You did it for love.”

And The Stockings Were Hung

By Eileen Glotfelty • December 21, 2024
“And the stockings were hung on the chimney with care.” Most of us are familiar with that phrase. In my family, Christmas stockings have always been one of the best gifts of the day. I made my first Christmas stocking after I was married. I didn't know what I was doing but I managed to make one for my husband that showed him skiing down a mountain as that was something he loved to do. From there most of them were made from kits that involved a lot of felt and sequins to create the scene. I would work on them when I was expecting my next child as I sat outside and watched the older ones play. When it came down to my youngest, she didn't get hers until she was 5 as I had my hands full with the four of them. I'm surprised I actually finished it. Each of those stockings tell a story and were chosen with much love. Some were so well loved that I had to make them a second time. I never minded. I was very protective of them and made sure they were stored carefully each year. As my family expanded over the years through marriages and births, I carried on the tradition and made stockings for each one. Every year at Christmas, I would love going shopping to find special surprises to fill them. In my old house they would hang from the mantel until they were filled and then placed under the tree. The best part of all was seeing everyone's faces as they pulled out each item. Those were special times. Now things have changed and instead of the stockings being filled and placed under my tree, they get packed in my suitcase and travel many miles. I've decided this will be the last year and when I return home from seeing my family, I will leave the stockings with them. As I made the decision, I was surprised at the emotions that rose up in me. I realized that I was afraid to let go of them because it would be the end of something I wasn't ready to give up. I found that I was holding onto something that I needed to release. It's not about the stockings, they're just a physical reminder of what used to be. There's a time to hold on and a time to let go. The Book of Ecclesiastes says it so beautifully: “To everything there is a season, A time for every purpose under heaven: A time to be born, And a time to die; A time to plant, And a time to pluck what is planted; A time to kill, And a time to heal; A time to break down, And a time to build up; A time to weep, And a time to laugh; A time to mourn, And a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, And a time to gather stones; A time to embrace, And a time to refrain from embracing; A time to gain, And a time to lose; A time to keep, And a time to throw away; A time to tear, And a time to sew; A time to keep silence, And a time to speak; A time to love, And a time to hate; A time of war, And a time of peace.” Seasons change and when they do, it's an opportunity for me to change and become the best I can be and with God's grace, I can do it with peace and joy. It just occurred to me that I've never made a stocking for myself…maybe now’s the time.

Davie

By Eileen Glotfelty • December 9, 2024
Life is a constant series of events. Some good, some not. The good ones we need to hold on to. They will give us hope. I'm sure you've heard the phrase, “that's the last straw.” You could also interpret it as, “I can't take any more.” These phrases usually come to mind when you've going through a hard season and it's been one thing after another. I've been there. You've been there and now my daughter's there. It's one thing when it's happening to us but another thing when it's happening to someone we love. To watch them suffer is harder than anything else. Over the past six years, my child has experienced one life changing event after another. She's been knocked down time after time and I've watched her struggle to get back up. There have been times when she wanted to stay down and she would tell me, “I'm done.” A couple weeks ago, she drove up to South Carolina to visit her sister. She went to lend a hand with some household projects. One night she received a phone call that broke her heart. Her house is currently up for sale as she is relocating to Wyoming. A realtor had brought a family to see the house and the agent noticed one of the cats lying on the bed. He wasn't moving. My daughter called her friend to go over to the house where she confirmed that the cat had passed away. His name was Davie. If you know my Laura, you'll know she is an animal lover and takes excellent care of her pets. Davie was special to her. He was only 8 or 9 years old and must've had an undetected heart condition so his death was unexpected. Davie was more than a pet to her. He comforted her and stayed by her side during the hard times. She was devastated. The first thing she did was blame herself although there was nothing she could have done. How often have we done the same thing? We want so badly to make sense of a tragedy that often we turn it inward and begin beating ourselves up until we're worn out with guilt and shame. If only I did this or said this, maybe it wouldn't have happened; when in reality, there was nothing we could've done. Life just happened. All we can do is live each day the best we can. We can't control what the day will bring but, as I've said before, we have a choice how we respond. In Laura's case, she needed to grieve but not with shame or guilt, just raw pure emotions of sorrow. That's when the healing starts.
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