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. 





 



By Eileen Glotfelty May 11, 2026
A few weeks ago I shared about my estranged child. Mother's Day came and went without a word. I spent the day wondering/hoping I would hear something. I didn't expect a phone call but maybe a text. I told myself not to have any expectations, but I still did. I was almost angry at myself for thinking maybe this year would be different. This morning I sat here talking to the Lord. He wants me to be honest with Him so I didn't try to hide the sorrow and the rejection. I told Him I was hurt and I had to forgive my child once again. He reminded me that I had three other children who hadn't forgotten me and made me feel loved and honored, so why was the rejection of one so painful? It was then I remembered the story of the lost sheep. For those of you who aren't familiar with it, it's about a shepherd who has a flock of a hundred sheep. One of them goes astray and the shepherd leaves the ninety-nine to go find it. It was a gentle reminder that He will never give up on my child and He loves Him more than I could imagine. In the same way, God will never give up on any of us. No matter how much we run or push Him away, He will never leave us. I needed that encouragement, maybe you do too.
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.
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.