Helpless.   I hate feeling helpless.  Any time I face something I can't fix, that's how I feel.  It started when I was a little girl.  As some of you know, my sister developed epilepsy and started having seizures when she was 18 months old.  I would've been six.   I don't remember much about that time or the years that followed.   It's said that trauma can cause you to block out events and store them away in the recesses of your mind.  Children are especially prone to this because they don't have the coping skills to deal with them.


There are a few things that I do remember; such as the time when my sister was in Kindergarten and she started having seizures that wouldn't stop and the doctor told us there was no hope…helpless.  Another time when she was around eleven, she had ten seizures in one day.  All I could do was stand by and wait for them to pass…helpless.   This feeling of helplessness made me feel out of control and put me on a path of making sure I would do everything in my power to stay in control.   It got so bad that I would manipulate people and circumstances in order to stay in that place. 


I'm sure you can imagine how well that worked.  The harder I tried, the more out of control I felt because life happens to everyone and like it or not, sometimes there is nothing we can do to fix it.


Lately I've been battling with control again.  It's never really left but subsides if things are going my way.  I've had some physical issues lately that have triggered old feelings and emotions and it's made me feel that I was going backward which terrifies me.


Today I met with my counselor.  She asked me two things.   First she asked “Who's in control?”   I knew the right answer was God and that's what I told her but then she asked me “If Jesus were here, could you convince Him you believe that?”   I was dumbfounded and it took me several minutes to give her an answer and that answer was “no.”    I couldn't convince Him because I wasn't convinced myself. 


Oh, how I want to be convinced.  I'm not saying I've never trusted God because I have but I pick and choose when and how.  In the situation I'm facing now, it's one that I've fought Him for control all my life.  When Jesus gave His life for me, it was for all of me, not just for the pieces I would choose to accept.


Think of it this way.  Imagine an occasion is coming up and you knocked yourself out to make it beautiful.  Part of it involved making a lot of sacrifices to buy special gifts to hand out.   As you gave out the gifts, you noticed certain people pushing some of the gifts to the side and they left without taking them home.  I know I would feel sad and disappointed that what I had done was not enough.  This is what we do to Jesus when we don't surrender control in every area.


If you can relate, please join me in this prayer.   Father, I want to give You control in every area of my life.  Help me to recognize when I'm fighting You for it and release it.   You will never force me and it's my decision to make which I thankfully make now.  Dear God, help me to remember that You are with me wherever I go and You will always give me the strength I need in any situation.  Thank you for sacrificing Your only Son so I can walk in freedom from feeling the need to control.  Amen



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.
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.
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.