All of us have talents and abilities.  Some are natural, others we have to work for.    As I shared in a recent post, I do some cake decorating.  I also crochet and like to sing.  These all came pretty naturally and none really surprised me but there is one that took me quite by surprise…my writing.


If you would've told me a few years ago that I would be writing, let alone sharing it with others, I would've shaken my head and laughed.   Not me, I'm a talker, not a writer.   Funny how things change.


This isn't true for everyone but my writing was born out of desperation.

What started out as a cry for help turned into a song of victory.   At first I would sit and pour out my thoughts on paper but eventually I started to notice that it was becoming more about what I was learning from my circumstances and not just the desperation for them to change. 


I'd like to share something very personal with you.  If you would see me behind the scenes getting ready to post, you'd see my finger hovering over the send button because I'm sharing private thoughts and feelings that may not have been shared with anyone else.   Whenever you use a gift or an ability and you put it out there, there is always a risk of rejection and criticism but if you believe in what you're doing, it's worth the risk.


This week I found myself entertaining some thoughts that were starting to chip away at my confidence as a writer.  I had entered a writers' challenge with a fine group of women writers from all over the world.   Forty women were going to have their work published in a book next year.  Needless to say,  I held onto the hope that I would be one of them.   


I received the notice that unfortunately my work was not chosen.  Of course I knew that was a possibility as I'm sure they received thousands of entries but what bothered me the most was how I took that rejection and ran with it.   I thought I had made some good progress in the rejection area but one email and bam, I started down that road.   My thoughts went something like this, "I'll never be good enough; I'm not in the same league as these other women; I'll never be able to write like they do."   


This afternoon, I sat with someone I trust and shared these thoughts.  I had already started to realize that it  was ok to be true to the gift I know God gave me.  I don't have to imitate anyone else.  I just need to be obedient to the message put in my heart and share it.   The lady I talked to confirmed my thoughts with one sentence, "Stay in your lane." 


I may never win any contests or awards.   I may never be published or go beyond where I am right now but you know what, I'm ok with that.  I've been given a song of victory to share.  I started this journey with a prayer asking God that He would use it for even one person.   That's all that matters. 


Before I close, I'd like to share a verse that is so close to my heart.  It was given to me back when I was crying out in desperation and my future was uncertain.


I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them; I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth. These are the things I will do; I will not forsake them.

Isaiah 42:16 NIV


I didn't understand it then, but as time goes by, I'm starting to see it come to pass.  It's not always about what we know but allowing yourself to step out and take a risk.  And when you do, stay in your lane!

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.”