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By Ashlie Miller

“Mom, do people have seasons like plants do?” I wasn’t expecting that question from my daughter as we picked strawberries at Cody Farms in Richfield a few weeks ago, but I wasn’t surprised that she asked. I had captured a photo of several things happening on a single strawberry plant stem – flowers, a flower wilting, one with a small, thick, hard green bud, some with slightly larger, hard green buds that would mature in weeks to the brightest red-ripened offerings. 

After selecting our harvest and moving on to choosing flowers to pick and arrange in a bouquet, I pointed to the blossoms on flowers, encouraging my daughter to find those waiting to bloom so we could anticipate their showiness in a few days at home. As we watched a bee sitting upon one of the flowers, she asked the question. What a reflection that was going on in the mind of my very contemplative melancholy who loves being in nature with me. 

I explained that, yes, as humans, we also have stages and seasons of growth. Even in our growth, like the berry blossoms and flower buds, there are stages of newness. I thought more about that later in the week as I ate the bright red strawberries we picked.

It can be easy to become frustrated with those new in some area of life- the timid trainee at the job afraid of making mistakes and wanting to do things perfectly to please; the eager intern bursting with an energy that needs to be wrangled in, ready to make a difference yet quickly burns out; the one who comes in with a bit of knowledge thinking “I got this” when they don’t, in fact, “got this.” There is a naive beauty in all of this when we recognize potential and can help them patiently. 

That patience brings such a fruitful reward, whether in matters of life and learning in general or in walking alongside someone as they grow in their walk with Jesus. One of the joys of my life is mentoring and discipling young ladies. Sometimes, it’s a young lady who is anxious over the future both personally and as they watch the world struggle, wanting to make no mistakes to displease the Lord, distressed over the mistakes that those close to her make; she needs to know about God’s sovereignty and abundant grace and that He loves her for who and Whose she is, not for her successes. At other times, it is a young one with a wild, fire-filled energy and passion, but also often led by emotion. She needs to know the truth of God’s Word to lead her, not just emotions and feelings. She must remember that it is a marathon, not a sprint. At other times, there is an overly confident, self-reliant individual who seems to know the right words and answers but is over-analytical and often paralyzed from acting and moving; she needs to learn about faith and trust in God rather than knowing all the pieces and cultivating a sure-fire plan. I know these ladies well and have been in each of their shoes at different times of my growth as well.

Do you need a good reminder that when growth seems different from another berry on the bush, the process is still happening? The result can be a beautiful, fruitful person radiating with fragrance and even sweetness. While waiting patiently with those walking in newness, we can pray for them and cheer them on.

By Ashlie Miller

Memorial Day holds a special place in the hearts of many. Usually, that entails things less memorable, like eating hotdogs or going to the lake. But, I can recall when I first learned that the day was a day for decorating graves – originally called Decoration Day. 

My sister-in-law would make annual treks to her home state to visit and decorate family graves. I always wondered about that. Then, several years ago, my brother and his family, along with my own, decided to journey to our father’s grave in Thomasville, NC, on Memorial Day.

Having never visited his grave since his death many years ago, I was not prepared for what visiting Thomasville would be like on Memorial Day in 2018. Boy, we were in for the most wonderful surprise, arriving just before the town’s annual parade to honor heroes and their families.

I realize now that this is not an uncommon occurrence in many towns. In fact, you can attend a parade Monday in Salisbury. Most likely, it will not draw the crowds that the Independence Day parades and events will, but is it any less significant? It is amazing what a smaller event on Memorial Day will do to set your mind and heart ablaze in memory and gratitude. 

After our bodies and hearts were thoroughly nourished after a light lunch and a fantastic parade, we made the short drive over to the Holly Hill Memorial Park Cemetery, where Daddy is buried alongside other family members who were also in the service. It is a bittersweet memory. Daddy did not die on the battlefield, but like many veterans of Vietnam, cancer came calling for him just after his time of service and beginning a young family.

I think of soldiers during this time and their acts of service. For many, however, service was not an option but a task put upon them. It was a sacrifice in many ways; they may be uncomfortable being reminded of their “service.” 

That’s why, when I see a veteran, I try to look him in the eye and say, “Thank you for your sacrifice” instead of “Thank you for your service.” Sometimes, I see the eyes of my father’s generation look back with gratitude for perhaps being understood and truly loved.

Like many today, I did not grow up fully recognizing Memorial Day for what it was, and I would confuse it with Veterans Day. Thankfully, slowing down, taking note, and observing others opened my eyes before my children grew up so we could share such things together. 

I encourage you to slow down this extended weekend. Look through Granddaddy’s medals or Grandma’s old photo books. Find out what those medals mean and where those pictures were taken. Visit findagrave.com and look for where relatives are buried. Maybe make an impromptu visit to the town for a parade or to the grave to pay respect. It will change you, and perhaps it will change all of us. 

Ashlie Miller and her family live in Concord, NC. You may contact her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.