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."

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.”