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

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.”