There’s a book I read many years ago.   It’s called “Hinds Feet on High Places.”  It’s an allegory written about a little girl named, Much Afraid.   Much Afraid was a member of the Fearing family.   She had issues…some were physical but most of them were not.   Her name says it all.   Much Afraid worked for the Chief Shepherd who one day asked if she would like to go up the mountains to the High Places.   He told her He would give her two companions to accompany her.   Their names were Sorrow and Suffering.   He said He would be with her all throughout her journey and she need only call out to Him and He would be there.   In her heart, Much Afraid wanted to go but she was terrified of what could happen as she tried to climb with her disabilities, let alone hold the hands of Sorrow and Suffering.   Her Fearing family tried to prevent her from going and almost succeeded but in the end she broke free of them and started the journey.


Much Afraid encountered many obstacles as she climbed up to the High Places.   Her Fearing relatives pursued her and her worst fears became a reality.   Several times she tried to drop the hands of Sorrow and Suffering but each time she did, the fears would attack.   Every time she felt there was no way out, she called out to the Shepherd who came immediately to her side as He promised and His perfect love cast out all her fear. 


Oh, how I identify with Much Afraid.   I am that little girl who has been trying to climb the mountains of life to get to the High Places where there are no more tears.  The difference between us is that for most of my life I have refused to hold the hands of Sorrow and Suffering.   They’ve been with me all along but I felt that to embrace them would show weakness and admit defeat.   What I didn’t realize was how much I needed them to reach the top.   If you relate to this, you’ll know it’s not just a matter of embracing the pain and suffering in our lives but crying out to Jesus who will give us the strength to go through it.   


Personally, I am experiencing a season of incredible loss.   The grief is so intense that I don’t know how I’m going to get through it but when I look up and cry out to Jesus, I feel a comfort that I can’t explain.   I don’t understand why everything is happening all at once, but I do know that God knew it was all going to happen and has been preparing me for this time even though I don’t feel it.   


This week I flew out to Colorado.   I have family here that I haven’t seen in eight years.  We talked many times about me coming to visit but it never materialized until now.   I was originally supposed to come last month but life happened and my trip was postponed.   When I was on the plane, it felt surreal.  My family has a home near the foothills of Pike’s Peak.   If you go out on their deck, there is a spectacular view of the mountains.  In fact, I took the picture posted in this post.   On my second day here, I received the news that my dear friend had passed.   That, with some other loss was too much to bear.   I didn’t think I could handle it all.   I went to the window and looked up at the mountains and I heard this verse, “I lift up my eyes to the hills.  From where does my help come from?   It comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.  He will not let your foot be moved; He who keeps you will not slumber”  (Psalm 121:1-3).   Is it a coincidence that I am here at this exact moment of time?   What are the chances that I would be physically standing looking at one of the most breathtaking mountains in the country at a time of great sorrow and suffering?


I have gone out to look at those mountains many times this week when the grief was threatening to overwhelm me.   It’s been hard to wrap my head around the fact that God loves and cares about me so much that He would orchestrate time and events just to comfort me but He did, and He does, and He will.  Each time I look up at those mountains, it gives me hope.

 

In case you were wondering about Much Afraid, after a perilous journey, she reached the High Places where she was met by Jesus, the Chief Shepherd and Lover of her Soul.  She still bore the scars of the journey but she was transformed.  The Shepherd gave her a new name.  She was now Grace and Glory.   Her companions,

Sorrow and Suffering, also received new names.   They were now called Joy and Peace.   As she headed back down the mountain, she knew she’d never be the same.   She was a new creation.   


What I learned from this story was that Jesus always saw Much Afraid as the Grace and Glory she would become.   That’s how He sees me.  That’s how He sees you.   Years ago He gave me a new name but it’s only been as I’ve held the hands of Sorrow and Suffering that I’ve seen it coming to pass.   I am Freeindeed.   What’s yours?


He who the Son has set free is freeindeed.”  John 8:36

Christmas Past and Present

By Eileen Glotfelty • December 25, 2025
My children grew up knowing what it meant to do without, especially the older two. We were on a strict grocery budget of $50 a week for a family of six. We didn't have money for snacks and treats but we never went hungry. There were times they had holes in their shoes and their boots leaked so we put plastic bags on their feet so they could go out and play in the snow. We did the best with what we had and I'd like to think my kids grew stronger because of it. The Bible says the apostle Paul learned to be content whether he had little or plenty. We tried to hold onto that. We experienced many miracles over the years in our times of need. I call them miracles because they came at just the right moment and sometimes with no explanation. One of those miracles came on Christmas Eve. I don't remember the year but I know my children were young. It had been a hard year financially as my husband was in and out of work. As Christmas drew near, our parents sent some money for presents and I was thankful but my mother's heart longed to give them more. On this particular Christmas Eve, I had put the kids to bed. The tree was up, cookies were baked and now it was just a matter of waiting. The only lights on in the house were that of our Christmas tree. It was calm and peaceful. It was then I heard a knock on the door. I wondered who it could be at that time of the night. When I opened the door, no one was there. The only thing I saw were shopping bags filled with presents. I was so surprised that it took a minute to realize it wasn't a dream. There was a shopping bag for each child. As I placed the gifts under the tree, I was filled with awe at the generosity. I don't have to tell you of the joy on their faces the next morning when they saw all the presents under the tree. Several years later I found out who blessed my family that Christmas Eve. It was a woman who knew someone in our church. She wanted to bless someone at Christmas and she was given our name. It turned out, she ran to the side of the house after knocking on our door and watched as I saw the gifts and brought them inside. I don't know if she ever realized what her kindness meant to us. If you'd ask any of my children today about those times we were blessed by others, they'd remember. It wasn't many years later that my children lost their Dad. He died in November and the holidays were upon us. Many of our family traditions were based on his love of Christmas. They seemed empty without him. When we were first married, we started a tradition of helping at least one person at Christmas time, even if it was a plate of homemade cookies. We carried on that tradition as our family grew and now we were faced with our first Christmas without him. As I remembered the joy of giving and receiving over past Christmases, I made a decision that we would carry on our family tradition. There were years we chose a family and bought gifts. There were years we went to nursing homes on Christmas morning with gifts and cookies to spend time with those who were lonely. Those were the best Christmases we ever had. The one question I've asked myself is, “Is it better to give or receive?” When we give without expecting anything in return, there's a joy like none other that pierces our soul and brings goodness and mercy to the surface. When we are on the receiving end, we feel seen and cared for and loved. So I encourage you to give and receive this Christmas for isn't that what it's all about? John 3:16 NIV “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”

The Nutcracker

By Eileen Glotfelty • December 19, 2025
I had always looked forward to being a grandmother. Both of mine passed away before I was born and I couldn't wait to have my own. When my oldest granddaughter was three years old, we started a tradition. I took her to The Nutcracker Ballet every Christmas. I would buy her a fancy dress and it became an annual date that we both loved. At first it was just the two of us but over the years it grew as we added cousins and friends. It was always a special time. Two years ago, all of my granddaughters moved down south. As Christmas approached, my heart was heavy as I realized this tradition had come to an end. I struggled with this realization and I had to examine my heart to find out why the grief was so strong. The answer came as a surprise. I thought the real reason was about not wanting to accept change and letting go of tradition but underneath it all was a fear of being forgotten. I was afraid if I couldn't carry on the tradition then some day after I was gone, the memory of me would fade away. I wanted my life to mean something to someone. I wanted to be remembered. I want to leave a legacy but I had to ask myself if it is more important that they remember me or what I stood for? Do I want them to just remember the places we went and the things we did or do I want them to remember they saw Jesus in me and they were loved, valued and accepted. That's the truth and that's what I hope they remember. I'm thankful to say this story has an unexpected happy ending. Today I had the pleasure of taking my daughter and all three granddaughters to The Nutcracker. It was a miracle how it all worked out as we all live in different states. I don't know if we'll be able to go again next year but I'm not going to worry about it. All I know is a lost dream was restored and I have a different perspective. My oldest granddaughter is now 11 and takes ballet. I watched her face as she watched the performance. There was an understanding now of hard work and commitment. She has a love and a passion that was planted when she was a little girl. This tradition isn't about me. It's about planting love and goodness and hope into future generations. I told her if she ever dances in The Nutcracker, I'll be there.

It's Ok to Let Go

By Eileen Glotfelty • November 13, 2025
If you know little boys, you know they are an entity unto themselves. Growing up, I had one sister. I played with girls and never did any babysitting as a teenager so boys and their character were foreign to me. When I had my two sons, my eyes were opened. Suddenly I had these two little boys whose brains functioned in ways I couldn't grasp. Thankfully they never set anything on fire but there was a day I'll always remember. It was a warm, sunny day. The kids were playing outside in the backyard and my husband and I were inside. Suddenly we heard the kind of scream that propels a parent into fight or flight. It was coming from the backyard and it was our son. My husband jumped to his feet and started running toward the back door. He didn't even stop to put his shoes on. I wasn't far behind. I'll never forget the scene that awaited us. At first we didn't see our son as we looked out over the yard. That was because the screaming was coming from up above. As we looked toward the sound, there he was high in a tree towering above the house. He was hanging parallel to the ground with his hands and feet wrapped around a branch. My first thought was to yell, “what in the world possessed you to climb up there?” My husband didn't need clarification. He simply ran over and stood underneath the branch where our son was hanging. He took one look at his terrified face, extended his arms out in front of him and said, “Let go, I'll catch you.” My son started screaming that he couldn't do it but my husband calmly reassured him. My son had a choice to make and I watched the resignation cross over his face and he let go of the branch. His father caught him without a problem. When I think of that time, I am reminded that the apple didn't fall far from the tree. So many times I thought I was going in the right direction only to find out I ended up in a place I didn't want to be and I didn't know how to get out. It wasn't until I cried out to my Father in heaven that I saw the way and it always started with God saying, “Let go. Trust me.” Sometimes the way was easy and sometimes it was hard but He always “caught” me and put my feet on solid ground. Psalm 40:2 says: “He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand.” If you're finding yourself in a place where there seems to be no way out, I encourage you to say these three words, “God help me.” He will hear you and He will make a way. It's ok to let go.