Today I found myself thinking of my mother.   She was born in 1915 and lived through the Great Depression.   For some reason, the people in her generation didn't talk much about their past, but here's what I know about her.   She was the third oldest of nine children.   Her mother, father and oldest sister emigrated here from Yugoslavia in the early 1900s.   Two of her siblings passed away from diphtheria as infants.   When my mom was 15, her mother passed away at the age of 39.   Her father drank and didn't take care of his family.  My mother told me he beat her for eating a piece of meat from the smokehouse because she was so hungry.  At that point, both of her older sisters had left home.  She left soon thereafter.   I can't even imagine leaving home when I was 15.  I was barely out of the Barbie doll stage let alone having to fend for myself.   


The story continues where she got a job working as a Nanny for a Jewish family.   Over the next couple of decades, my mother found herself working in a hospital laundry and then a bakery.  It was while she was at the bakery, a cake decorator took her under her wing and my mother discovered a hidden talent.  She had an artistic flair and used it to create beautiful wedding cakes.  It wasn't until years later that I discovered I, too, had the same talent.


Although I never decorated professionally, I did use that talent to bless family and friends as well as generate a little income when I was a stay-at-home mom.    I now limit myself to making birthday cakes for my grandchildren. 


If you've hung in there so far, you're probably wondering what this has to do with anything.   You see this morning I was making a birthday cake for my granddaughter who's turning 4 tomorrow.  She wanted a "Grinchy" cake…Christmas in July anyone?   I always hold my breath when the kids tell me what they want because I'm afraid I won't be able to do it.   I inherited my mother's talent but she was the artist with a blank canvas.  I'm just a copycat.  Since I can only draw stick figures, I've had to get creative using other means to get the desired results. 


If you are a perfectionist like I am, I don't have to tell you the anxiety I would have every time I made a special cake.   I would be in agony working on these cakes fearing the disappointment on my grandchild's face as I focused on each tiny flaw, until today.   


I started off by waking up before dawn and I knew it was because I was feeling the pressure of producing the perfect cake.  Soon after I was mixing and baking.  It wasn't until the second layer that things went south.  As I was flipping the cake onto the bottom layer, it started cracking and falling apart.  Normally this would've sent me into panic mode but instead, I took a step back and asked God for help.   Yes, I asked God to help me fix this cake.   


The Bible talks about how He knows the exact number of hairs on our heads and He's aware of every sparrow that falls to the ground.  I truly believe He loves it when we ask for His help even in the small things.  He doesn't want us stressed and anxious about anything and He never expects us to be perfect.   


He answered my cry for help and I finished the cake even with a few other challenges.   As I stood back to look at my handiwork, I heard myself saying, "not perfect but perfect enough."   How I want to apply that to every area of my life.   The first place I need to start is by not comparing myself to anyone.  I've placed my value of who I am based on other people's thoughts and opinions my whole life.  One of the ways I'm recognizing it is my attitude when I'm with others, especially family.  If they're happy, I'm happy.  If they're not in a good mood, neither am I.   Does anyone else do this?   


I know this won't happen overnight night but I believe the first step toward change is awareness.   I will keep asking for His help  but the difference will be that since He is perfect I can be ok with being "perfect enough."

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.