From the time she was a little girl, I had my granddaughter, Lana, beside me in the garden.  At first all she wanted to do was play in the dirt but it didn't take long for her to catch the passion of watching seeds spring to life.   


Every year she would help me plant and water the garden and I loved the joy on her face as she picked the products of her labor…now, she didn't eat the vegetables, she just loved growing them!


In the past two years, life has changed.  I no longer have the big garden and Lana has moved far away.  Last year before she moved, I was desperate to hang on to our tradition so I bought a couple of big pots and tomato plants.  I had her plant them before she left and for the first time, the plants didn't make it.  For me, it felt like a mirror to my soul. 


This year I had decided not to plant anything.  I adopted the attitude that it was no use.   It would never be the same without sharing it with Lana. 


That attitude showed me I was still grieving.   Grief is something that never goes away.  It's important you recognize it because you can make steps to go forward and not stay stuck in one place.  I didn't know how to do this but God who is so rich in mercy, showed me the way.


It turned out that Lana came up for a couple of weeks this summer.   I had her for three days.  While she was here, I got those big flower pots and checked my seed supply.   Among the packets, I found a little plastic bag with the words “watermelon seeds” that contained two seeds that Lana had saved a few years before.   She got all excited and insisted we plant them.  I didn't have the heart to tell her they probably would not grow.


She planted her precious seeds and went back home with me promising I would water them.    Shortly after she left, I went on a trip and was gone for two weeks.  My sister faithfully watered them but sadly nothing happened.


I felt bad as I had hoped to be proven wrong and we could've shared a “garden” once more.   I ended up stirring the dirt around and sprinkled a few flower seeds on the top.   In just a few days, I saw a sprout.  It was definitely not a flower.  It was a watermelon!   One of Lana's seeds had come to life and with it the part of me that had been grieving came to life also.  It gave me hope.


It's been a month since that seed came to life.  I forgot how fast things can grow.  I've taken pictures of it to send to Lana and it's obvious how it grew overnight. 


This morning I looked out and a flower had appeared on the plant…a promise of something yet to be.   I couldn't wait to tell Lana!   


Will we get a watermelon? I don't know but that's not what's the most important.   I'm holding to the fact that God knew the heart of a grandmother who was grieving something she thought was dead but brought it back to life in a new way.  A good way.


As I was writing this, I forgot to mention that I wrote a children's book for Lana so she would remember all the time we spent together in the garden.  At that time, I didn't even remember I had those watermelon seeds.  This is the closing paragraph:


“We had lots of good vegetables from our garden this year.  I hope I can help GiGi next year.  Maybe we can plant watermelon!”


Coincidence?  No. It was a hug from God showing how much He loves me and Lana.  That's what I want Lana to remember.  That's the legacy.



Update:  Since I wrote this story a few months ago, we did get a couple of watermelons!    It has been a joy to share this with Lana.   I told her I would try and find a way to ship one to to her!

Your Worst Enemy

By Eileen Glotfelty • April 25, 2025
“You are your own worst enemy.” How many times have I said that to myself? I've come to realize that although there's truth to it, there's something else that's even greater. It's name is shame. Shame is the enemy of our soul. We don't even realize it's there. It makes itself comfortable within us and settles in for the long haul. Shame becomes familiar and it rises up when we least expect it and knocks us off our feet. It likes to be in control. Shame has had a grip on me since I was a child. It started when I was bullied by other kids because of my weight. I was the brunt of jokes and a target for snowballs. Names like “Fatso” replaced my own and it didn't take long until I believed their lies. Shame has a voice. It says, “something's wrong with you. You're not good enough.” By the time I became an adult, it affected every area of my life. It stole my identity. I've spent my life trying to prove that I was good enough. I fell into the trap trying to be all things to all people. I took on responsibilities that were not mine to take as I tried to fix everyone's problems. Underneath it all was a desperate need to know I was loved and accepted. The more I strove, the more shame laughed in my face. I got to the place of brokenness where I physically walked with my head down. Shame thought it had won. I was at my lowest point and I cried out to God in desperation. I didn't see fireworks or hear the Hallelujah Chorus but an awareness started deep in my soul. I realized that what I needed most was not the love and acceptance of others but His love. What amazed me was I had it all along. I had heard about it. I knew it in my head but all my striving and need for control kept it from reaching my heart. I didn't need to earn it. It was there waiting for me to accept it. Now there's a transformation going on within me. It's not happening overnight. I still wrestle with shame but it doesn't have a grip on me. I walk with my head up and I'm learning who I really am. I'm learning to love myself because He loves me. It's a daily choice I have to make to turn to God and lean on Him. The power is in surrender. When I am weak. He is strong. There's no shame in weakness. Maybe your experience is similar to mine. Shame likes to hide so I would encourage you to pray for awareness and when you get it, surrender the striving and need for control. The shame will leave as it gets exposed and comes face to face with the Lover of our souls. It can't stand in His presence. The freedom and peace you long for are waiting.

Broken Crayons Still Color

By Eileen Glotfelty • April 6, 2025
When I was a child, I loved the box of crayons that had 64 colors. I gravitated toward the metallic ones because they were so unique. Two years ago, I took a trip with my grandchildren to the Crayola Crayon Factory. I don't know who was more excited. After going through the various exhibits, we ended up in the gift shop where we could take a container and fill it with every crayon color imaginable. I felt like a kid again as I chose each one. I told myself I was buying them for my grandchildren but I knew who they were for. I don't have to tell you I chose every metallic color they had. Back at home, I was wary of letting the grandkids use them for fear they would break them and once they were broken, I didn't want to use them. Ridiculous I know. Next month, I'll be 70 years old. As this milestone comes closer, so does a lot of self-awareness and introspection. I used to think that by this age, I'd have shifted into the “golden years” and everything would be ok. My kids would be grown and settled. I would be retired and spending time teaching my grandchildren how to bake cookies and volunteering somewhere doing community service. I also thought I'd be growing old with the love of my life and we would finally get to travel to all the places we had always wanted to see. Yes, my kids are grown and I do travel but not the way I thought. My body has decided to start protesting its age so I am limited in what I can do and I find myself alone most of the time. I've started to wonder if this is all there is? Why am I still here? Maybe you've felt the same way. I don't know exactly what the reason is other than I have the blessing and wisdom of living this long. I've had trials and challenges that I've walked through and come out the other side. My heart's desire is to help others who are discouraged and feel hopeless. I've asked myself many times how I could help someone else when I have such a long way to go myself and then I heard the words, “broken crayons still color.” Those words changed my perspective and gave me purpose. They showed me that God can take me in my broken, imperfect state and use me for good. He doesn't see the broken crayon, He sees the beautiful colors and He sees my heart. He sees the whole picture. So as long as I have breath, there's a reason. He's not finished with me yet.

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.”