I was married to a fisherman, an avid fisherman.  Almost as soon as we were engaged, he was planning our dream honeymoon on the shores of Chandos Lake in Canada.


He was eight years old when his parents bought property around the lake and built a log cabin.   He spent every summer there and that's where his love of fishing began.  Whether he was standing on the shore or in a boat on the water, he spent countless hours doing what he loved.


I'll never forget that first week.   I knew I was in trouble the minute we arrived.  There were two ways to get to the cabin. One was by boat (which we were towing), or maneuvering our car around boulders on a dirt road.  We docked the boat at a small marina and drove to the cabin.


I have to admit, my first view of the cabin was breathtaking.   It was situated on a point where a bay joined the main part of the lake. Inside there was a wood burning stove and blue gingham curtains hung on the windows.   My one challenge was the lack of indoor plumbing.   I have to admit I was horrified when he threw a hose into the lake and connected it to a pump! We spent the rest of the day unpacking and settling in.   It wasn't until the next morning I realized my husband's love for fishing was more like an addiction.  


I woke up to a beautiful sunny morning.   As a new bride, I was adjusting to the joy of waking up to find the man I loved lying beside me, only this day, there was no man.  Instead I found a note and a foghorn.  Unbeknownst to me, he had risen before sunrise and headed out on the lake.   The note he left simply said, “Went fishing.  Stand on the shore and blow the fog horn and I'll come in.  I love you!”   Needless-to-day, I was not impressed; however, he was a man of his word and came in when I blew the foghorn.


I had never been one for the great outdoors so I had to make a decision.  I finally decided, “if you can't beat em, join em.”   This involved learning how to fish.  The first step was going to the bait shop.  I couldn't even imagine touching anything slimy so when my eyes landed on some black, rubber worms, with hot pink tails, I told myself, “You can do this!” My husband laughed and shook his head but with my rubber worms in hand, we headed out to the lake.  


Step two involved learning how to cast.  The better the cast, the more chance of success…or so I was told.   My husband happily shifted into teaching mode and explained the finer art of casting.  It's definitely not as easy as it looks.  It took technique and focus but equally important was knowing where to cast.  After several attempts, I made a successful cast.  Now the hard part…the waiting!  


It was during the waiting that I heard the story of “the big one that got away.”   Apparently there was a large mouth bass that was bigger than the rest.  He was the Grandpappy of the lake and many had tried and failed to conquer him.  


I don't remember if it was this first fishing trip or the next but all I know is the fish were biting and I started reeling them in with my black rubber worms.   Once again, God was in control.   We had been out there a little while so it would soon be time to call it a day.   Suddenly there was a tug on my line.   It didn't feel the same as the others.  This was a big one.   He gave me quite a fight and I was screaming my head off while my husband grabbed a net.  As I reeled in my catch, we could hardly believe it.  I had caught the Grandpappy with a rubber worm!   Needless-to-say, I gloated after the shock wore off.


One other thing I learned with casting my line was the importance of adding a weight near the hook.   The weight enables the hook to sink below the surface enabling the success of the catch.


It's the same when we cast our cares on the Lord.   It's about giving him not only the situation, but the weight of it that we are not meant to carry.


He says it in His Word:


Psalms 55:22 NIV

Cast your cares on the Lord and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken.


Today I found myself casting and recasting.  Some things are harder to let go of than others, but as I kept giving it to him, I felt the weight lift off my shoulders 


My prayer went something like this. “Lord, I need You to help me.  This is a big one.  It runs deep.   I don't want to hold onto it and I'm casting it on you.”   Even though the situation didn't change, it felt different.  There was peace in the waiting.  


One last thing…the next time we went to the bait shop, guess who bought some black rubber worms?

It's Not The End

By Eileen Glotfelty • May 23, 2026
Are you one of those people who like to read the end of the story before finishing the book? This morning I've been sitting here feeling overwhelmed by life. There are things that are out of my control and a lot of uncertainty. For someone who likes to have a plan, it's my worst nightmare. God's word says that He finishes what He starts and He will complete the good work in me (Philippians 1:6 NIV). I struggle with that when I can't see the finish line. God's word also says He's the Alpha and the Omega which means He is the beginning and the end (Rev 22:13 NIV). To me, that means that He sees it all. He knew where I would be on any given day. He knew my circumstances before I did, but unlike me, He's not worrying and overcome with anxiety because He sees the end. So, once again, I have a choice to make. I can sit here overwhelmed because I can't see the way out, or, I can trust the One who can. Will I choose hope or despair? This leads me to faith which is choosing to believe even though we can't see the outcome. I had to ask myself where I was putting my faith. Hope and faith work together. No amount of striving can earn them. Each one of us has access to them. All we have to do is ask the One who freely gives. Jesus, I know you've written my story and You know how it ends. Everything in this life is temporary. Even though I can't see the end, help me to rest in the fact that You do and I can trust You with my life.

The Lost Sheep

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.

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.