Ashlie Miller

By Ashlie Miller

By now, you have heard of many creative ways to support Hurricane Helene victims in our state. Many artists have joined together to hold concerts or create an album to raise money for them. The devastation has inspired musicians and singers to write songs based on their sorrow and care for a place they call “home.” No doubt those who have or had a home in that tragically hit area have written the most touching songs. 

I think the song that has touched me most is from a video shared on social media of an anonymous man in the Asheville area dressed in a dingy t-shirt, sweatpants, and a pair of slides covering his feet. After a relief worker brings the residents immediate aid, one recipient regrets that he cannot offer something to express his gratitude. Then he remembers what he does have – a gift of song. Grabbing his fiddle, he breaks into melody – perhaps a mixture of lament and overwhelming gratitude.

Thanks to autotuning and big collaborations with well-known writers, almost anyone can write or play a good song. The music from the heart, often a hurt heart, is most meaningful. This is not a new thing. One can open 1-2 Samuel in the Bible and read selected chapters in the Psalms to see the stories that prompted the greatest songwriter (King David) to write some of the most celebrated and sung songs. As I read the Psalms, I often skip past the chapter’s introduction (or song) to get straight to the poetry, but there is so much life in the simple notations (if your Bible has them). I am amazed at how many psalms David wrote while escaping the hand of Saul or other enemies, trapped in a cave, or even struggling with his own sinfulness.

David often uses his personal stories of God’s goodness in tragedy to set a pattern of praise that others can follow to write songs of gratitude and praise. It reminds me of 2 Corinthians 1:3-4 where Paul says that because of God’s great love and comfort for us as believers in our afflictions, we are able to comfort others in any affliction – even messy, catastrophic ones.

We are already witnessing this in so much of our Appalachia family – stories (and songs) of grace and courage, sadness and woe, and hope and rebuilding. Many of them are still waiting to hear the music. 

Do you have a song birthed from a storm in your life? It may be time to share it with someone currently in a storm or just coming out of one (literally or figuratively). Help them to find their song through your encouragement, even if you survived a very different storm. 

Ashlie Miller and her family reside in Concord, NC but have many friends and family in western NC. Our prayers and support are for them now and down the road.

By Ashlie Miller

Do you have times when a theme or word pops up prevalently in your life? Hope has been that word for me recently. I first noticed it while helping my daughter work through an AWANA book (AWANA is a Bible study and memory program that has been around for a while.) “What is the difference between hope as we see it and hope as the Bible explains it?” Do you know the difference?

The same question came up about a week later while I was at a celebration of life service for a dear lady who had recently passed away. The minister there asked the same question about hope, and he too had the same answer my daughter read a week earlier – earthly hope is the sort of wishful thinking we all have. You may have seen or experienced it last week – “I hope my loved one is ok.” “I hope they can get cell service so I can hear from them soon.” “I hope someone can get fuel, water, and food to my loved one.” “I hope they will be able to rebuild their lives.”

My family and I have lived in a wishful kind of hope not fully realized as we waited for contact with my brother in Clyde, NC. We hoped he was well. We wished he could get power and water, reach the inaccessible main road, and reunite with his family, who had been visiting with family here in Rowan County before the hurricane hit. 

As humans, many of us are doing all we can to make those wishes and hopes come true. My brother-in-law’s moving company has been stationed at Walmart all week to shuttle collected hurricane relief supplies to the Concord Regional Airport for Operation Airdrop. I asked fellow volunteers I met if they had connections to Western North Carolina, and almost everyone did. I usually could tell the answer before their mouth replied as their eyes welled up with tears. “I came because I needed to feel I was helping them in some way” has been the common response. Some who have donated also do so for similar reasons. One lady I thanked for her donation shared that she had a loved one who had perished in the floods and family members who had to climb to the roof and even survive by holding onto a tree. Unable to be there to console and help in person, giving supplies is the closest thing many can do to provide a sense of hope and care. 

All this does so much to offer hope and to fulfill many wishes for relief. However, there is a much greater hope, which is a sure thing. As my daughter’s study book says, “The Bible tells us that to hope for something means that we WILL get it because God told us we would.” These “somethings” are beyond temporal material things that, as we have witnessed, can be washed away in a flash. We can have access by faith into grace (Romans 5:1-2) – a gift we all need to receive what we have not earned nor deserve. We can hope and receive righteousness – the only guarantee to an eternal life with God rather than an eternal separation (Galatians 5:5, Titus 1:2). 

I hope my brother’s family gets power and water soon. I hope my sister-in-law, niece, and nephew are able to get to him (if they haven’t by the time of this printing). I hope the community they are in can recover soon. I have no control and neither do they. But one thing we are sure of, our eternal hope in Jesus is secure. 

By Ashlie Miller

Two free weekends in a row in the fall are a rare treat for most families these days, and ours is no exception. As I mentioned last week, we love a good day trip at this time of year because it is usually not too hot to be in a car for a few hours. Last weekend, after reading an article in Our State magazine, we followed suggestions to partake of several apple treats at four different stops in Hendersonville. What a delight – apple fritters, apple cider donut ice-cream sandwiches, cold cider with ice cream topped by apple cookies, warm apple cider donuts! We can talk about our collective sugar crash later, but the experience of sampling several delectables and supporting local farmers was a win-win for us. 

Of course, we ended our time by picking apples as well, along with many, many other families. While each orchard had its unique personality, one thing was for sure – they were all bustling with people! Have you been apple-picking this season, or will you be picking out a perfect pumpkin later? What is it about these seasonal fruits and gourds that get us excited? There must be something to it. Agritourism has become a booming business here in North Carolina. Even trips to an AirBnB have options for local farms, vineyards, and orchards. I wonder if the old-timers ever dreamed that people would pay to come harvest their crops.

I remember growing up, we never talked about going to pick apples or pumpkins as a family event. I do not recall hearing many other families make such plans each fall. However, we highly anticipated Thanksgiving and suppers from the year’s growth. Nothing could beat canned veggies from a grandparent’s garden served up with love and care. We certainly have an affinity for harvests, don’t we? It may be the fruit of our labor, partaking delights made by those who cultivate the ground, or even the mass market treats made available only during a couple of months in the year. 

A couple of weeks ago, I heard a segment on a podcast related to gleaners—those who volunteer to help local farmers harvest their produce. It benefits the farmers, the local economy, and even the volunteers. People don’t mind getting their hands dirty after a fruitful season.

The Bible also speaks of harvests and gleaning. Special laws benefited the foreigners and the poor, allowing them to gather from the edges of the fields. Another passage encourages us not to grow weary in our well-doing because perseverance leads to reaping in the right season. We reap what we sow (that is not always a good thing). Sleeping in harvest is shameful. Most Sundays, my husband ends our church service as he sends out the congregation – “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into His harvest” – Matthew 9:37-38. We hope to make meaningful connections with our neighbors and coworkers that lead to eternal transformations – eternal life. These are but a few of the lessons from agriculture.

As you look at orchards bursting with fruit beckoning you to pick, fields of corn (many designed for corn mazes), and acres sprawling across with perfect pumpkins, take time to reflect on the Lord of the harvest. Is God reminding you of a harvest that will come in due season, a lesson on caring for others from the bounty of your blessing, the importance of rightly sowing and working in the proper seasons, or urging you to action for the glory of His kingdom? Lessons are there. Let’s get to work! Winter and rest will be here soon enough. 

Ashlie Miller isn’t really sure what to do with all her apples. Have an easy recipe? Email her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

By Ashlie Miller

Fall is a time for road trips, at least for our family—day trips, really. Last weekend, we ventured up to Brevard to connect with our oldest son, who is interning in western NC. Brevard is a perfect town with an atmosphere we love. It’s also not far from some favorite hiking trails. 

You may also know the town of Brevard for the local legend – the white squirrel. 

Metal silhouettes of the town mascot sit atop the traffic posts, and across the corner from O.P. Taylor’s toy store is The White Squirrel Shoppe – dedicated almost fully to merchandise of this woodland creature. Alongside the white squirrels, you may also find souvenirs showcasing a Sasquatch. Spying Bigfoot and white squirrels is like a game of Where’s Waldo while window shopping.

I wondered how much of the white squirrel obsession was based on folklore and legend and how much represented something true and observable to the casual tourist. But, other than that, I didn’t give it much thought. The hairy big guy, however, I discounted completely. Say what you will – the grainy photos are less discernible than my firstborn’s ultrasound.

After some window shopping and a fantastic supper at Corky’s Dawg House, we looked on the map for a nearby park with a playground where we could talk with our son while the younger siblings released their energy before our long ride back home. As we approached the parking lot – “Wait, what was that?! Did you see it?” We all saw a white fur ball scampering across the grass. We rushed to exit our car and carefully approached this apparition that had vanished. 

We saw him scurry up a tree, chasing a gray-tailed foe or companion – who can tell? Then, we saw another, scratching away at mulch under a bench before dashing to the picnic tables to taunt another squirrel. At another turn, a third small, white creature darted about. What once felt like myth and legend had become observable reality as we were in the right place at the right time. What a memory to treasure!

Many treat God with the same suspicion I did with white squirrels or, more accurately, Bigfoot. Materialists want observable proof using measures they have established on evidence they regard as observable by those measures. They spend much of their lives trying to prove and argue what they deem cannot exist because the spiritual does not fit their prescribed boundaries.

Sadly, they miss the glory and beauty of experiencing something wonderful and life-changing – a relationship with God – because they cannot observe it with scientific measurements. No, it is not quite like believing in something like a Sasquatch or doubting the existence of a white squirrel. Analogies are generally imperfect, especially when you relate to something spiritual. However, atheists create a world of limits because they do not know the truth that the eyes of one’s heart are opened AFTER submitting to a relationship with Christ by faith…without having all the answers first. Those who trust in Christ know what it means to not understand fully but know sufficiently. 

There are many questions to ponder in life about what we see and more about what we cannot. If we are willing to receive them, there are also many answers to these ancient questions. I hope your autumn adventures give you time to slow down and consider both questions and answers.

By Ashlie Miller

Let me be honest. Last week, when I read reporter Elisabeth Strillacci’s Opinion piece from the Salisbury Post “Where were you?” I stopped and reread this paragraph: “I heard something heartbreaking this week. Apparently our younger generation does not know what 9/11 is.” Did you also stop to reread that?

How could that be? It just happened…wait, it wasn’t just a few years ago? No, it was a young generation ago. And besides, I know my teens and children know about it. We discuss it annually, as each age is able to process it on their own level. In fact, my high schoolers’ current unit study is on the U.S. military and events around that day of terror. 

But, Strillacci is right. This past Wednesday, a young lady whom I mentored and who is deeply affected by death and tragedies – she is old enough to remember the day but young enough to have grown up in a world of uncertainty, fear, and change – texted me. She sets aside time each year to reflect on that day in our nation’s history. She feels a sympathetic weight of the day as she listens to stories and testimonies of those who recall the tragedies in their lives from that day. 

She shared her thoughts with a peer of her own age and was met with casual indifference that it was just another day in history and many in other countries are continually experiencing tragedies. I imagine the response to her text is a common feeling today, not just among the young who can only vaguely recall the day or for young students for whom 9/11 is merely a couple paragraphs in a history textbook. Have we who lived that day, if only through our television sets or radios, let memories fade and slip into the past?

Sadly, it is not just another day in history. The residual effects continue to this day. We are all well acquainted with the reports of those who have died well since 2001 – from cancers, respiratory, and digestive issues, to name a few. Some reports say that the numbers are now higher than those who died upon initial impact. Staggering!

My young friend is sensitive enough to think about the entire fire station crew who lost every member and children (now adults with children) who grew up as orphans. Those families are still working through life with grief. 

It is up to us adults to recall and recount the past. Although we can see 9/11 pretty clearly in our rearview mirror, the current and coming generations cannot. 

It reminds me of the scriptures that speak of our duty to teach the coming generations so they will not forget – because it is possible. In Deuteronomy, Moses warns Israelites to keep their soul diligently and remember what they have seen lest they forget and depart. While at it, they should also make these things known to their children. Why? As evidenced in Judges 2, just one generation after Joshua, Moses’s successor, passes, a generation who does not know the Lord or what He had done for their ancestors arises. Yikes. Ancestry and religion were vital to their identity as a people. How could parents and grandparents forget to share things this important regularly? Maybe they assumed someone else would do it for them?

Forgetfulness is a companion to ingratitude. Ingratitude leads to pride and entitlement or – to put it plainly – sin.

By forgetting to recall huge, life-changing events like 9/11 and passing down stories, are we guilty of leading a generation towards ingratitude, entitlement, and pride that leads to great downfalls? By forgetting to share our faith and what God has done, are we leading to something far worse?

Take time to recount, recall, and share. Even if an event’s anniversary has passed, the lessons are always timely. 

Ashlie Miller and her husband Chad raise their family in Concord, NC. You may contact her at mrs.ashliemiller@me.com.

By Ashlie Miller

Unlike a walk after a good storm on the beach looking for treasure, a walk at home after a storm does not have the same level of excitement. Indeed, one assumes that a walk after some of our recent gusty storms would only be to assess the neighborhood’s damage. 

Because recent events and schedules prevented my early morning walks lately, I was excited to go on a walk after a previous night’s downpour. Usually, I look upwards and all around to notice plants and critters scampering about. However, I looked downward on this walk because I was introspective while listening to music. I almost looked through all of the fallen debris before me for a while, not seeing its unique beauty. But then, something caught my eye – some acorns on a small branch. Tiny, green, perfect. I began noticing other gifts from the recent rainfall scattered along my path – interesting chunks of moss, a persimmon, and small pieces from a tree limb covered in textured lichens. Instead of photos of flowers and trees, treasures on asphalt filled my Facebook stories that day.

I think I needed a good reminder that God was (is) taking care of me even in my storms. Despite how things may feel and the seeming evidence to the contrary, He is faithful in caring for me. These little treasures that had been violently tossed to the ground may have looked like storm litter, but to me, they were little reminders that there is still both provision and beauty on the path before me, even on the days I feel I can’t lift my head. 

Yes, I believe that Christians should lift their countenance upward toward the heavens. Our hope is on high. But a Christian can also weather turbulent seasons with a melancholy introspection that turns into a contrite heart and a hopeful spirit confident in Christ. God often sends encouragement to remind us of His faithfulness if our eyes are open to see and receive.

Perhaps a storm has come your way. I’m not speaking of a spring or harvest-time shower filled with the promise of bearing fruit (like Leviticus 26:3-4 talks about). These are torrential, blustery rains that spring up almost from nowhere. Unlike well-forecasted physical storms, you cannot see this coming, and suddenly, you find yourself in the middle. How can you send for reinforcements? You’re not even sure what you need or when the storm will pass. It is a stripping type of storm, leaving debris and litter scattered throughout your life, causing you to feel quite fragile.

But if you look carefully, there are whispers of care and glimpses of God at work. A friend sends something your way that seems trivial to them and unconnected to your sorrow, yet fills you with renewed hope. A long-forgotten message reaches your ear or eye; you know it is  Providential. An opportunity you would have never considered before the storm now is the answer to a prayer you would not have known to pray.

We are still in the middle of hurricane season. You may find yourself in a season of raging storms. Maybe you have a hard time looking up. If you do find yourself looking downward, don’t miss the beautiful gifts God has placed in your path to encourage you.

Ashlie Miller and her husband Chad have weathered many storms together with their family in Concord, NC. You may contact her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

By Ashlie Miller

I have long appreciated the honest thoughts in the Psalms— songs of joy and lament and songs of pondering the realities surrounding the writer.

Consider Asaph, a song leader for Psalm 73, who felt envious as he looked about himself, seeing wicked, arrogant, godless people prosper. As we often do, he over-generalized what he saw – they have no pain until they die; they don’t experience trouble like the rest of the world. Ever feel that way? Ever start saying “they never, they always” when you look at others and think it is unjust that they prosper despite what you know about their character?

Asaph is in a pickle. He does not know what to make of this. However, verse 16 is key to unlocking understanding. He is weary in pondering until he enters the sanctuary of the Lord. While worshiping with others and looking upwards, he recognizes the end of those who live recklessly and selfishly, though perhaps successfully, on earth. 

I wonder what he heard when he was in the sanctuary of the Lord on the Sabbath. Maybe it was Psalm 92, titled A Song for the Sabbath. Take some time this weekend to read it. Within it is a comparison of evildoers and the righteous. Both flourish in some way. But one is only like the grass, doomed to destruction and scattered about, while the other is like a stately palm tree abiding in God’s presence. Maybe as it was read, Asaph looked over to the family who had been through pain yet exuded joy and hope. Did he see the old-timer still bearing the fruit of righteousness in old age and, though poor in material things, was rich in life and love? Moments of communal worship and the truth of God’s word can bring discernment.

The writer of this psalm goes on to confess that his heart had been embittered, and he acted ignorantly and like a beast toward God. Though you may have felt embittered, have you felt like you could lay out those words before God the way Asaph did? I marvel at his honesty. 

After looking out at the world and becoming embittered, then worshiping with others and hearing the truth, Asaph looks at himself and sees that he, too, was unworthy of grace from his Father. Yet even in his beastliness, the difference is that he longed to declare God’s uprightness and sovereignty. The wicked rejected that, relishing in their mockery.

Maybe Asaph felt guilty for acting so beastly and judging God’s goodness of bestowing common grace to the wicked – allowing them to have any earthly success. After all, that is all they would ever have. Yet, God accepts Asaph, beastly and all – “Nevertheless, I am continually with You; You hold my right hand…My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever” (Psalm 73:23, 26).

Christian, are you frustrated by how good “they” seem to have it with no recompense? Gather with fellow believers in the church and look upward. Be reminded of what is true in the household of truth as you declare God’s righteousness.

Ashlie Miller and her husband, Chad, live in Concord where they raise their family. You may contact her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

By Ashlie Miller

Believe it or not, there was a time when the education system’s goal was to mold its students into contributing members of society. Much of the focus was on developing good moral citizens. Early primers combined proverbs and other Bible passages with fables, ancient stories, poems, and songs. As a homeschooling mom, I still look to teach virtues to my children. While they are not immune from being consumer-driven like many of us today, my hope and prayer is to give them a buffet of good teachings to remind them of their purpose – to glorify their Creator while also caring for others. 

I recently found a used copy of the thick volume of The Book of Virtues by William J. Bennett while shopping at Goldberry Books in Concord. This particular copy came out before I completed high school (no, I won’t say when that was), but as I am reading aloud from it daily, the lessons are still relevant. Consider this lovely poem on compassion by M. Bentham-Edwards:

A Child’s Prayer

God make my life a little light,

   Wishing the world to glow; 

A tiny flame that burneth bright

   Wherever I may go.

God make my life a little flower,

   That giveth joy to all,

Content to bloom in native bower, 

   Although its place be small.

God make my life a little song,

   That comforters the sad;

That helpeth others to be strong,

   And makes the singer glad.

God make my life a little staff,

   Whereon the weak may rest,

That so what health and strength I have

   May serve my neighbors best. 

As we pondered this poem together, even my 9-year-old could see something deeper for us as a Christian family. Jesus is our light, and we should be His light to others. Like a flower, He puts us in places to share His joy. When others are going through hard times, even if we are as well, we can carry a song and bring encouragement. If someone is humble enough to admit they are weak, or if we can see that they are in need, we can both provide refreshment and point them to a Sustainer (God) who can do even more than we are able.

As you send off your little lights, flowers, songs, and staffs into the school year, read them this poem to remind them to contribute more than they consume in a relationship and their community. Maybe it’s a good time for those of us in the school of life to read it to ourselves as well.

Ashlie Miller homeschools 4 of her 5 children in Concord, NC. You may contact her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

By Ashlie Miller

And just like that *snap*, summer vacation is coming to a close. For some of us, it was too fast, but we felt like it would never end, especially if one of our children was away for the summer. Such was the case with our oldest. He set out to serve at a Christian summer camp in western NC for the summer.

Letting him go for a summer, well, that was easy. After all, summer does go by quickly. We knew he would be returning, ready to explore life with a gap year ahead of him. Gap years are the time some students elect to take between high school graduation and their next steps. Gap years can be tricky. Sometimes, it is taking a breather in some way before entering the many responsibilities of adulthood, while others are anxious to begin a career by stepping into internships, apprenticeships, and more. Others plan to save up as they plan to work through college.

In any case, having a sense of purpose and direction is critical. Otherwise, a gap year may lead to a season of idleness. That can lead to laziness and slothfulness and an opportunity for the devil to tempt us to build idols when we are idle. 

We prayed as our son set off for camp—a time to reflect and ponder his purpose in the upcoming gap year. God met us in our prayers, allowing our son to intern there for an entire year. It all came together quickly and somewhat unexpectedly. After ten weeks of grueling schedule, he came home to rest, recharge, and recalibrate. Then, Friday came. 

Many other families prepped their college-bound sons and daughters for a new adventure. They have had years to plan for this day. The Friday before our son left was a bit different. We knew a day would come when he would be away from us for an extended period, but we had no idea it was waiting for him just around the corner. The day he left was also the anniversary of his Nana (my mom) passing away 3 years earlier. Talk about lots of mixed emotions! But we made it through. His leaving met me with an overwhelming sense of peace and joy mixed with sadness in my tears.

Parents of Christian young adults—send them in God’s peace. Each of them is leaving with areas for growth and maturity. This also provides opportunities for our own growth in Christ as we trust Him with our children. If God has begun a good work in them, even though it is imperfect and at times really messy, we can trust that the Father will complete that good work—even if it is a messy process. (Philippians 1:6)

Pray for them, encourage them, send them Amazon deliveries. Do all you can to engage from a distance, but ultimately, entrust them to their Creator and Savior. I preach to myself here as well.

If your child is not a Christian, pray for the other students they will encounter who are. Pray they will reach out, grow in their faith, and desire to share the gospel with your loved one. Most of all, remember God loves them more than we ever could and cares more perfectly than we can.

Ashlie Miller and her husband, Chad, have a few more children and several years left until they are empty nesters. You may contact her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

By Ashlie Miller

Nothing enhances gentle breezes like a set of wind chimes on the porch. Usually, they are a lovely sound, but one day recently, they proved to be a tangled mass of brokenness needing gentle hands. 

Mom died three years ago this past Friday, and grief is ever-present, seeking to appear at the most unsuspecting times. My brother told me a story of processing grief while listening to wind chimes – some given to him as a memorial to our mother. He lives in the NC mountains, and breezes are a refreshing part of the day. However, one evening, the wind must have been more aggressive, taking the cords and chimes and whipping them together in a tangled mess. The sight was unseemly, and the sound was broken and disheveled. 

Patiently, my brother unwound the cords, untwisting the metal wrapped haphazardly together, prompting tears to come to his eyes. He felt God speaking to him through the moment, reminding him that He had done the same thing for our mother. She had lived firmly and faithfully through her cancer journey the last few years. But even with a smile, she was still wrecked and ruined – her melody limited in her time here on earth. God relieved her earthly sufferings. 

Not only is she now free from the encumberments of a broken and fallen earth, filled with sin, sickness, and disease, but she is also free of the things we may think we brought upon her. I imagine many children, perhaps many loved ones, have certain regrets when a loved one passes. There may be regrets of not spending enough time, words spoken or words not spoken, memories of childhood rebellions or adult neglect in a relationship – earthly (temporal) things that seem to fill up our days that turn into years that turn into a lifetime of remorse and sadness. It is a weight we wonder if they continue to carry as we wrestle with it ourselves.

Sometimes, survivors can feel an unnecessary burden or prolonged guilt and regret for missed opportunities or years. However, for the Christian who has passed from this life to eternity, all those memories and brokenness are erased—untangled. God is the Master who gently takes the tangled, mangled mess, lovingly unfolding it into something beautiful and free to make an everlasting song.

My brother successfully unwrapped the chimes, free to listen to the music in the wind again. He is growing to be free and untangle himself of regrets and missed opportunities. 

When tempted to live in sorrowful grief and regret, we can remember that the awesomeness of God’s glory is beyond anything temporal when we are in eternity. His majesty, grace, and love will consume all our thoughts and desires. He promises to wipe away our tears and do away with death, mourning, crying, and pain – the many things related to our earthly lives (Revelation 21:4). I am not sure how God will do that, but I am so thankful that He not only does that for us one day but that He also does that for our loved ones who have preceded us in death into eternal life.