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!

The Prodigal

By Eileen Glotfelty • April 19, 2026
For those of you who have a prodigal child, you're not alone. What I mean by prodigal is a child who has turned their back on you and put up walls of defense. It came as a surprise, a shock actually. I should've seen it coming but after years of butting heads, I truly thought we were in a better place. The revelation came in a letter where thoughts and feelings were shared. I felt my spirit being crushed as I read it and my heart broke. I know I wasn't the perfect mother. I had struggles and behaviors that had followed me since childhood. I had resolved never to treat my children the way I was treated, but how many of us know that sadly it still happens, but in a different way. When you have a prodigal, it's not about forgiveness and reconciliation, it's about the pain they feel we've inflicted and they can't let go of it. I keep hoping that some day, things will change but there's no guarantee as it takes two surrendered hearts that are open to be healed. It's been four years now since I received that letter. I have grieved in a way I never have before and there were times I didn't think I would make it through. It's a different kind of grief because you know it can change but it's out of your control. It's been a process and I've experienced rejection, abandonment, guilt and shame but it brought me to a place where I knew it was going to keep me in a prison of pain if I didn't surrender it to God so He could heal my heart. The Bible has a story about a prodigal son. Even though the son went his own way and abandoned his father, his father never gave up hope. When the son had an “aha” moment and realized how foolish he had been, he humbled himself and returned home. This is my favorite of the story: “So he got up and went to his father. “But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him. Luke 15:20 NIV” This is how God greets everyone who returns to Him, no matter what they've done. I pray I would react the same way with my son. If you have a prodigal, my heart goes out to you, but just know that God sees you and your child. He is working behind the scenes as He is a God of redemption and reconciliation. He will heal your broken heart and give you the strength to hold on.

You Are Enough

By Eileen Glotfelty • March 13, 2026
Today I had an errand to do on the other side of town. When I left my house, it was warm and sunny. As I drove toward my destination, I noticed dark, gray clouds up ahead. I had no idea it was supposed to rain. Thankfully I was in the store when the storm rolled in. It was literally a downpour complete with thunder and lightning. I remember thinking I wouldn't be going to my car any time soon. Unfortunately the extended time in the store resulted in some overspending. As I stood in the checkout line. I overheard one of the cashiers say. “I love thunderstorms.” As a child, I loved them too, especially if I was already tucked in bed for the night. I can't explain it but that was the time I felt the most safe. There was something peaceful amidst all the noise. I still feel the same way. Tonight another thunderstorm rolled in. The weather forecast said it could be severe with high winds. I wasn't afraid. In fact. If it wasn't so early, I would've jumped into bed. I had to ask myself why I felt such peace during a storm. I never really thought about it before. Was it the fact I knew that despite all the drama and noise, it would eventually come to an end? It's something I need to think about because my attitude is quite the opposite with the storms of life. I've spent most of my life just trying to survive the storms. Sometimes I've denied them, other times I've tried to run from them and there were times I tried to hide from them but each time, they stopped or moved on. I feel like I'm in a place right now where I need a reminder of safety even in the midst of a storm. Jesus wasn't afraid of the storm, He went right into it and walked on water. Peter got out of the boat and started walking toward him but as soon as he got distracted by the waves and the noise, he started to sink and fear tried to take over. Jesus was still there and when Peter cried out to Him, Scripture says Jesus immediately reached out and grasped Peter's hand and Peter was safe. So Jesus, the storm is raging all around. I'm reaching out to You. I've gotten distracted Lord. I need You. Make me aware when I'm sinking and meet me in the waves for You are my help and You are enough.

Valentine's Day

By Eileen Glotfelty • February 14, 2026
Valentine's Day has always been my favorite holiday. I remember walking past the candy shop in town as a child and seeing all the beautiful heart boxes in the window. One box always caught my eye. It was a huge red heart at least two feet long. It was covered with red silk roses and a red frilly ribbon around the edge. To me it was a symbol of love. I dreamed of the day someone would give it to me. I met the love of my life unexpectedly. He was the kindest, most loving man I ever knew. Not only did he love me, he loved me unconditionally. This was a new concept for me. I was used to giving something to get something, but with him, I didn't have to give anything. He gave of himself and didn't expect anything in return. He showed me what true love was all about. He showed me God's love. We celebrated many Valentine's Days together. There were years we didn't have two nickels to rub together and he would make me handmade cards and paint wooden hearts red with a gold, glittery “I Love You” written on the front. There was one year when the single ladies from our church volunteered to watch the kids so the moms and dads could have a night out. We didn't have the money to do anything fancy so we picked up a meal from Boston Market and went back to our “empty” house. We watched a movie, uninterrupted, and then put on some music and spent time slow dancing. It was my favorite Valentine's Day of all time. When I think back to that time of walking past the candy store, I realized I didn't need a fancy red heart to make me feel loved. I received all the love I could have ever imagined from a man who made me cards and danced with me around the family room. What I've learned is I can still have my dreams but if it doesn't work out the way I thought, God has something better, and if I can lean into that and trust Him, it'll be more than enough because He is enough. Happy Valentine's Day!