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."

Handicapped

By Eileen Glotfelty • October 31, 2025
In December of 2023, I had just returned home from a trip out west. After being terrified to fly for many years, I was proud of myself for flying and navigating one of the largest airports in the world. I came home and sat down in my recliner so I could unwind and relax. After a little while, I stood up and felt pain in my left knee. It happened suddenly, out of the blue and took me on a journey I didn't want to take. Since then I have had multiple doctors visits, several rounds of physical therapy and arthroscopic procedures on both knees. This was the first time I faced mobility issues and I watched my confidence fade and fear rise up where it had never been before. I found myself looking at the ground with every step, making decisions about my social life based on how much walking I'd need to do, getting a wheelchair at the airport, and using a handicapped placard in my car. This disability controlled my life. Last week I finished my last round of physical therapy. I am thankful to say it helped me. I've been able to go grocery shopping, take short walks and stand while talking to others. Things I used to take for granted. Today I had an appointment. When I pulled into the parking lot, there were only two spots available. One was a handicapped spot right in front of the door. The other was all the way down near the end of the lot. By habit, I pulled into the handicapped spot and immediately the thought came to mind, “do I really need to park in the handicapped spot?” I found myself backing out and driving to the end of the lot. It was after my appointment when I was walking back to my car that I heard this still small voice say, “You are no longer handicapped so why do you act like you still are?” If you have ever had an epiphany moment, this was one of mine. I had gotten comfortable being handicapped. There were actually some benefits to it such as the parking and special assistance at the airport, and if I'm being honest, being able to use my handicap as an excuse to get out of doing what I didn't want to do. I felt justified in asking for help. It was ok at the time but all through this ordeal I had asked God to heal me and now that I was in a better place, I was afraid to let go. This revelation went deeper than a physical handicap. It affected me mentally and spiritually as well. I was afraid to let go because then I wouldn't have anywhere to hide but in doing so, I gave power to fear. It affected me spiritually because I doubted God really cared about me. The healing was taking too long and I was afraid I would never get my life back. If you know God, you know He doesn't always do things our way. This was a valley moment for me. It's been a place of searching and questioning if I believed He was good and His Word was true. I found myself telling Him, “God, I've done everything I know to do.” That was the problem. I've lived my life thinking nothing good happens unless I earn it. I couldn't have been farther from the truth. I have to tell you that as I walked back and forth to my car, there was a sense of freedom. It felt good. Now, hopefully, I can look at my life through a different lens. I have to be realistic because of my age. There are some things I can't do now, like climbing ladders, but it's not because I'm handicapped, it's just life and I'm learning to be ok with that.

Untangled

By Eileen Glotfelty • October 7, 2025
What do these things have in common: a dog's leash, Christmas lights, yarn, and neck chains …they all get tangled! If you've ever tried to untangle any of the above, you know how frustrating it can be…especially for a control freak. The neck chains are the worst. I can remember pulling one out of my jewelry box only to find a twisted tangled mess. I used to get a safety pin and painstakingly pull on each loop. I couldn't put it down until I had it untangled. OCD? Maybe. Life gets tangled in much the same way. For me, it happens in relationships, especially with loved ones. Maybe it's because the standards are higher and expectations are not met; or it's because we make ourselves vulnerable to those we love and our hearts feel the pain more deeply. Whatever the reason, things get tangled and become complicated. I have found myself in that place several times in my life. I don't like it when someone is upset with me so I try hard to make things right. It's not a matter of who's right or wrong. It's about the fact that in their eyes, I've offended them and whether it was intentional or not, they were hurt. Sometimes an apology isn't enough. Trust has been broken and it takes time to build it back up again. So what do you do when you've done everything you can to reconcile and the rejection is still there? You take a step back. You wait and you pray. You'll need to fight against the anger and resentment. Keep your heart in the right place. For me, it's a place of love and forgiveness and hope. Depending on the circumstances and the depth of the relationship, it could take awhile. I'm in a waiting period and I'm not going to kid myself. It may not happen in my lifetime but I do know this, I can wait with hope and peace and I can pray for them. Does it still hurt? Yes. There are days I grieve the loss of them but then I am gently reminded to let them go and trust the One who loves them more than I ever could. I read this verse today which may have have prompted my thoughts: John 13:34 NIV: “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. If anyone knew how to love others through rejection, it was Jesus. He loved, He suffered, He forgave and He waits. He waited for me, He waits for you.

Hello and Goodbye

By Eileen Glotfelty • September 24, 2025
Mountains and valleys. Hellos and goodbyes. For me they're one and the same. I woke up this morning with a sense of dread because I knew I would be saying goodbye once again. Thankfully , I didn't get stuck there. My daughter and her family left today after coming up for a visit. They weren't here the whole time as they had places to go and people to see but it was nice having them near. I've come to realize that when someone is leaving me, I need to prepare myself emotionally ahead of time. I tend to focus on the negative aspect of things at times and saying goodbye is one of them. There was a time when saying goodbye would send me in a downward spiral. Not today and hopefully not ever again. After my family left, I went out to my happy place…my backyard swing, and as I was thinking about my family, this thought popped into my head. “Every time I've said goodbye, it was because, at some point, I said hello.” I latched onto that thought and realized goodbyes are only temporary. It may be awhile before I can say hello, but that day will come and it gave me hope. Until the next hello, I will think of the sweet memories we made while they were here…playing Old Maid and Uno; teaching the girls how to twirl a baton, laughing and singing and just the sheer joy of being with them. I know some goodbyes seem more permanent and I'm not making light of them. I've lost many loved ones and the separation seemed unbearable. There were days the grief was so strong, I didn't know how I was going to make it. But even in death, goodbye is only temporary. I say that because I know I'll see them again. I know because God said so. I started writing this because of saying goodbye to my family. I didn't expect it to take this turn but I'm thinking there's someone who's going to read this who is struggling with their own goodbyes. I want you to know you will be ok. God cares about our goodbyes and He will give you hope. I know because He did it for me. So take heart my friend. Hold onto Him. He'll bring you through. Goodbye is just a gateway to a new hello.