Ashlie Miller

By Ashlie Miller

What comes to mind when you envision a revolving door? For many, these doors are portals, evoking childlike wonder – well, unless you are an impatient business person needing to get into or out of your building and get stuck in one in such awe.

Or your mind could go to something more jaded, considering the many businesses whose employee retention looks like an ever-rotating system of revolving doors. Gone are the days of young employees entering a small business and staying with a sense of loyalty and hope of slowly moving up the ladder. Today, any discomfort or challenge is reason enough to leave even a good company.

Many times in life, we often look at proverbial closed doors as securely locked, vaulted doors that prohibit future access. How frequently have you encountered a young, green student considering a college, a job opportunity, or an internship who sounds dejected because currently all positions are filled? It happens more frequently than likely expressed. But wisdom and time remind the seasoned that often spaces open up – someone’s life drastically changes due to a death in the family or an illness, a better opportunity presents itself for them, or they are not a good fit for an establishment. The list can go on with the vast number of situations that are unique to each individual. The persistent young heart sees these once-closed doors for what they are – a revolving door of opportunity. 

It is not limited to the young either. Even this week, I had a relaxed meeting with a friend sharing the blessing of an ideally suited job that blessed her family and became available to her because a spot opened up – one that seemed securely locked in for another. After months of thinking the door was closed, she felt a nudge to pursue the position. A revolving door made space for her. 

Are you feeling dejected because the path that seemed so sure for you seems blocked? Perhaps God is working in the life of the person currently occupying your seat. They have a journey, as well. While I am not suggesting that you pray they are fired or something bad happens to them, perhaps you can pray that God’s will be done in their life and yours. Pray they can see where God is leading them or whether or not they are suited for the position or path. Pray that the one over the position (an employer, a guide, a trainer, etc.) can quickly assess this person and their gifting and challenges and how they fit within the company, ministry, organization, or team. 

Do you see the dimmed eyes of a once-hopeful pursuer of a dream? Encourage them to keep dreaming and practice the art of persistence and growth. 

The door may be revolving.

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

By Ashlie Miller

It has become a common reflection that January drags on, but February is over before you realize it even began! Well, usually, that is the case. However, many may argue that with Punxsutawney Phil’s prediction of six more weeks of winter, it has been more like Februweary – neverending. Are there seasons you wish you could speed up? It is a sentiment that is as old as legends. 

In Book of Virtues, William Bennett includes a story in the anthology about a young boy (Peter) eager to get through the boring and mundane things of life (like school days) to have fun and enjoy life. One day, an old woman meets him in the woods and offers him an extraordinary gift – a shiny ball filled with a golden thread. Ever so slowly, the thread dispenses from the ball with the passage of each moment. A word of caution accompanies the gift – the child may speed time by pulling the thread but can never put the thread back into the ball. Thus, careful consideration before tugging the string is a must. Also, he may never tell a living soul about this magical gift, or he will die.

Peter thoughtfully considers pulling the string while at school to rush towards playtime. After a while, that is not enough, and he is ready to be through with school years altogether. As you can imagine, the boy wishes to rush through many other struggles and heartaches – learning a trade, waiting to marry his sweetheart, years in the military, hard times as a family man, and the sickness of loved ones. Finally, as he ages, he notices his mother has, too, a little too quickly and then dies. He looks at the ball, whose thread has turned to silver and then a dull gray, and realizes that while he has gotten his wish to hurry time, he has also rushed life for himself and others. In his desire to get through mundane, tedious, difficult, and hard seasons in life, he now looks back on missed days accumulated as years with those he loved. Much of life was in both the tedium and the hardships.

We may not be assisting our moments and days away with a magical ball, but the lure of technology, numbing entertainment at the tip of our fingers, and mindless scrolling are but a few of the aids that have stolen our time. Are we conscious of the time we are losing? Are electronic devices the magic ball pushing us through time instead of experiencing seasons gloriously or even mostly unremarkably? Perhaps you can think of other things getting in the way of relishing simple joys.

Christians understand the need to make the best use of time (see Ephesians 5:16). Sometimes the best use of the time is not in our productivity or arriving at the goal but in the slow process of investing in the precious lives about us – little people in our shadows, cherishing those in the winter of life, appreciating those with whom you live and should love daily but most likely take for granted.

What will you see as you look back over your life – memories to cherish or missed opportunities – even in the uneventful or difficult seasons? How are you cherishing and investing today? There are still a few days left this short month – redeem the days you have ahead.

Ashlie Miller has enjoyed a very boring winter with her family in Concord, NC. You may connect with her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

By Ashlie Miller

When was the last time you were gobsmacked by love as a recipient or by learning of someone else’s love for another? I’m not talking about another predictable Hallmark love story or a fictional reel on social media created for views. I mean a genuine love story that defies all reason and logic – someone expressing utterly selfless love, and perhaps the recipient doesn’t reciprocate, seems aloof to it, or flat-out rejects it (and no, I’m not alluding to parents and teens).

Our congregation at Mission Bible Church has been reading through Hosea in our reading plan and learning more through a sermon series. The gripping story of Hosea and Gomer is one for the ages. While that is an intriguing story (I would love to have dinner with Gomer as one of my “who would you like to have dinner with from the past?” hypotheticals), it pales in comparison to the greater story God wanted His children to see. 

The divided nations of Israel and Judah both fell into rejecting God (one had a few better kings, but both nations had real issues). Hearts were prone to wickedness. They combined forms of true worship with wicked, pagan worship – child sacrifice, for example. The spiritual leaders of the temples built for their own God were either drunk or bought out for money to do the bidding of wicked kings. When God would woo them, they would put out a stiff hand of rejection. When He would allow them to fall into the hands of pagans they admired as a way to discipline them and give them what they thought they wanted, they still would not return fully to Him in humility. Hosea 11:4 says God “bent down to them to them and fed them”, but verse 7 shows that the people were “bent on turning away from [Him].”

God has perfect feelings. He expresses further in chapter 11, “Though they call out to the Most High, He shall not raise them up at all.” He follows that immediately with, “How can I give you up…How can I hand you over…? My heart recoils within me; my compassion grows warm and tender.” God had every right to reject them as His people, or at least in the eyes of modern man. But God says, “I am God and not a man, the Holy One in your midst, and I will not come in wrath” (Hosea 11:9).

Imagine the modern-day advice if you were in a similar situation. You may have experienced someone taking advantage of you, not appreciating all you selflessly do, or turning on you to pursue something or someone contrary to all you hold dear in your life with them. The modern advice: “cut them out” or “cancel them.” In our imperfect human forms, sometimes that is the best way to survive in our broken world. But God can take it because His goal is to have His children back. 

How can He do this? Why doesn’t He wipe us off the face of the earth when we betray Him and reject His love for us?  Because God is faithful to His promises, to His divine character, and to what He reveals about Himself: “The Lord, our Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness” (fun scavenger hunt – look up this phrase or derivatives of it throughout the Bible).

The holy, perfect nature of God is merciful and patient. It flows from Him effortlessly. Wow, what an unbelievable love – one that pursues us in various ways, sometimes allows us to be left to our own devices, and is faithful in His love towards us! Have you been gobsmacked by it yet?

Ashlie Miller writes from Concord, NC. You can email her at: mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

By Ashlie Miller

If you listen closely, you will likely hear something beckoning you outdoors after a long, cold winter (for us anyway). It may be birds chirping a song, anticipating their fellow fowl friends returning from migration. Perhaps the whispers of daffodils are summoning you to the dirt, spade and seeds in hand. Or, in the case of some of my children, it may be a call to an adventure in the woods to “Big Rock.” 

It may not be an original name, but many of us had our own trips to “Big Rock” as children. It had been some time since my last trip, but when my youngest lost something special to him, I knew it was time to venture back. One morning before church, I promised him I would look for his lost treasure – an owl-shaped pendant souvenir from a trip to the zoo perfectly camouflaged for leaf-hiding. I allowed him and his big sister to lead the way. They took me through their path to reach the mountainous boulder – over banks of rocks, through the outer rims of neighbor’s yards (sorry, neighbors!), and up an imposing bank of more rocks covered in ivy. Don’t worry; we did not trek up the ivy-covered stones. Instead, we walked across a rotting beam nestled by a storage building. OOF!

After overcoming my initial embarrassment of minor trespassing and gingerly walking over dangerous terrain, I reassessed our path. After scouring the leafy forest debris for the little owl – which I did find – I suggested a new route to and from the boulder. It was easier to navigate, had less danger potential, and was more beautiful to hike through.

I later thought about how that was a good metaphor for the Christian life:  the grief to be spared if we had counsel from others who had trekked similar paths. Who could benefit from the wisdom of our own experience, both successes and failures? What encouragement could we give or need through shared experiences? It is very against the grain: appearing vulnerable as if needing input or offering helpful advice. Many want to ride out their Christian journey on their own merit and discoveries. While the idea of discipleship is not new, many push back on the idea as though it were condescending. I’m not the first nor the last Christian told they did not need to be discipled by anyone. 

Why am I so resistant to letting others share the journey with me? Do I want to hide the struggles that others could help me overcome or at least pray through? Could they have known something similar to what I am facing? Are those things in my past that I have overcome not worth sharing with others to speak life into the darkness of their lives?

The journey brings much joy and plenty of rough hills we must climb. However, there are many obstacles we do not have to run into and can avoid if we know they are ahead of us and encouragement to receive in the unavoidable.

How are you helping someone new to the journey of faith in Jesus or simply immature after years of following Christ? If you are new to Jesus, how are you allowing yourself to be discipled by an experienced believer?

Ashlie Miller writes from many adventures in her backyard of Concord. You may connect at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

By Ashlie Miller

In Pollyanna, the bright, cheery main character plays the “glad game,” where she considers joy and gratitude in the face of disappointment. In one instance, she recalls when her missionary parents received a barrel of gifts (like a care package). Her hopes of receiving a doll are dashed when she finds a pair of crutches instead. Though she does not need or want them, she is content that she has no need or use of them.

Today’s popular philosophy in our individual belief systems is that they should stay personal. “It’s okay for you to think that way, but I don’t need or want those beliefs.” Christianity, especially, is often remarked as something for the weak, a crutch, if you will. Many view their life as fulfilling and accomplished enough to get along well without the crutch of Christianity. 

What does a Christian say to that? “Yes, you are right. I am weak and need supernatural support.” More importantly, what does the Bible say about those who are lame, weak, and halting around in life? Micah, a minor prophet in the Bible, writes the Lord’s own declaration of what He will do in the Day of the Lord – a day of judgment. He declares, “And the lame I will make the remnant, and those who were cast off, a strong nation” (4:7). 

Strength and autonomy are the virtues of the day. “I can do it myself and should do it all myself.” Many exasperated mothers believe they should have it all and do it all on their own, never leaning into a community of family, friends, or church. Many young women, falsely perceiving the burden of children getting in the way of their path, resort to drastic, life-altering decisions accompanied by unforeseen guilt rather than true freedom. 

Young adults insist on having all their ducks in a row, being financially stable, and well into a career before considering relationships that could lead to a family. Others are overwhelmed by the pressures of how they see the world operating and resort to drugs, self-harm, life on a blue-lit screen, inauthentic relationships, and chatGPT to answer their questions and problems in life. No one is truly making it on their own strength and self-autonomy, which are poor legs to walk through life. Instead of making a relationship with Christ the one they lean into, other substitutes (crutches) inevitably find their way into their lives. 

But notice again from Micah 4 that God is always working and is sovereign over all people, holding each of them accountable to the same standard. Yet, it is the lame and the cast off whom He will make into a remnant to be restored. The bad news is that a day of judgment will come. The good news is that God will one day gather those of us who recognize our weakness and that He is the sole (and soul) strength. He will bring restoration and a future free from eternal judgment, separation, and despair.

Later in the story, Pollyanna depends on assistance in walking due to a terrible fall. That is the case for many of us, too, but not all will be humble enough to acknowledge and submit to that dependence. Who or what are you leaning into?

Ashlie Miller lives in Concord, NC. You can connect with her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

By Ashlie Miller

For hours, we watched for updated forecast posts on social media. We saw the gaping hole in the map that seemed to say to the snowstorm, “You shall not pass – at least not in this area. You can have most of the rest of the state, though.” 

But finally, as we sat down to an early supper, we noticed the flurries. In the eerily, gloomy haze, the white wisps did fall and stick to the ground.

Though only trace amounts, my younger children awoke the next morning with expectant eyes. Thankfully, recent experiences with barely distinguishable amounts of snow have cultivated a sense of excitement and contentment over the short-lived frosts. After some morning learning time, we set out to explore. 

We had already noticed neighbors across the creek had nothing white on their back lawns. Ours, however, had a lovely, though sparse, sprinkling. Could it be that the shadows of the trees kept the wonderland safe in our yard? Of course, we trekked through the woods, keeping our tradition of doing so on white-blanketed days. My daughter ventured off on her own with a sense of freedom. ”Be careful of the thorns as you hike through,” I cautioned. My youngest son and I went on our routine hunt for ice on the creek. What boy doesn’t want to break off sheets of ice and see it shatter like glass? “Don’t get too close to the edge and fall in,” I warned.

In the shadows: a warmth amid bleak mid-winter, glittering treasures to discover (don’t mistake them for just snow-covered branches and rocks), snowy places protected even if for a little while to bring moments of delight. 

I have walked through many shadowy places in my life. Many valleys of the shadow, even. I am sure you have, too. I have watched my closest loved ones succumb to their end here on earth. I have held hands and loved those who walked close to death’s door and came out victorious, thankfully. But walking through shadowy places can be a painful, dangerous place we would rather avoid. It can seem unending with no relief in sight. As difficult as it is for the loved one going through life’s last door, those who remain behind can be overwhelmed by anticipatory grief.

But in the shadows, there can be warmth, glittering treasures, and sacred places to bring moments of delight. In her final year, I remember spending whole days with my mother away from my family so I could just be “daughter” with my mom a little longer. Talks, laughs, sitting still together – sometimes talking like she would be here forever; other times sitting still, realizing these were precious moments. Towards her final days, the entire family gathered around to sit, share stories, hear her talk about the Bible, and even listen to her describe what she thought she heard or was seeing. Like a little girl, I had opportunities to climb up in bed with her, read her Scriptures, or hear her share memories I had never heard her say. These were moments that we would not have otherwise experienced.

The shadows can be dark and scary places, but they can also preserve memorable moments unique to the valleys. When you next go through the shadowy places, remember, “Yay, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of darkness, I will fear no evil, for You [God] are with me.”

Ashlie Miller and her family live in Concord, NC.

By Ashlie Miller

We were braced for it: a well-stocked pantry for cozy recipes thanks to an email newsletter; boots brought from the garage to be warm enough to welcome eager feet; gloves paired into actual matches to protect hands for snowball fighting. 

At the first sign of flurries, I popped a couple of frozen hash browns into the toaster oven, switched on the electric hot water pot, and opened a sleeve of hot cocoa powder. The littlest kids were ready! I sent them to the treehouse with treats in hand (or, rather, mittens). I spied upon them from the kitchen-nook window as they nibbled on their salty potatoes, sipped their decadent cocoa, and wishfully watched the flurries fall. 

It was not long before the teens came out, ready for adventure. One took the siblings through the woods to “Big Rock” – our name for the boulder along the survey line of a neighbor’s backyard. It isn’t quite Narnia, but one can believe it is nearby. Later, they successfully had a snowball fight. Where did enough snow for that come from? Well, Dad had forgotten to remind them not to scrape off the snow from the cars – oops! 

“Can we make snow cream?” my daughter asked as she presented a small monolith of snow in her mittens. “Is there really that much snow?” I asked, bewildered. The snow bowl that had been optimistically set out was scant; she had scraped snow off the dirty railing. Oh dear, it really has been too long for them to remember any snow etiquette. 

With hopeful hearts, the children finally came in for a dinner of fireside stew by the gas-fire logs (naturally). We decided to watch “Prince Caspian” from the Narnia series because we had rewatched “The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe” during Christmas break. These movies feel quite wintry.

Topping off the evening were small bundt cakes from Nothing Bundt Cakes that I had frozen recently to thaw out for the perfect occasion. This certainly seemed to be shaping up to be such. 

However, as you know, the evening did not end with more snowfall but rather ice, sleet, and cold rain. Wistfully, we all went to bed. The next day did not look magical; it looked disappointing. But, I still had a couple of little people eager to get the most out of the barely used sleds – sleds purchased at a yard sale maybe a couple of years ago, still in like-new condition. And guess what – you can slide pretty successfully on frozen grass, even if it looks just like normal brownish-green grass! It may have only given an hour’s or so worth of fun, but it was fun just the same. 

Sometimes our expectations are not met. More likely, it is truer to say they are seldom met. I am a realist and feel more like a pessimist at times, but slowly, I am learning to make lemonade from lemons. No, we can’t make snow cream out of dirty snow. But rather than sulk or blame the weatherman, we can choose to foster gratitude in the little people watching us. Little eyes are watching me. They are still making memories. They won’t all be awesome, but good enough can be sufficient, too.

Ashlie Miller and her family grass-sled in Concord, NC. You may email her at: mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

By Ashlie Miller

Holidays sometimes provide unique opportunities to hear grand stories of someone’s life. You may have collected some new ones yourself over the past couple of months: things you never knew about a person, hints into mysteries of family ‘lore, retellings of big stories that are almost legendary. But then, there are those important stories that were forever life-changing. 

While visiting my folks’ home on Christmas I happened upon my mom’s devotional books and Bibles resting on a table in the sitting room where she often read. Tucked inside a book, I spied a couple of sheets of lined notebook paper. I fingered the folded sheets, gently opening them, as though I was trespassing upon something sacred. I instantly recognized the handwriting. Though she rarely journaled and only signed her name “Mom” on birthday cards, I remember her handwriting from all those years of notes left conveniently on my bathroom counter reminding me to complete chores that she listed (boy, did I try to avoid going to the bathroom early on a summer morning – ignorance is bliss!). 

Though not a lengthy note, it briefly detailed her life’s story – at least the most significant parts she found worth sharing. It was a story of searching, finding, getting off track, and finally feeling freedom from the chains of sin – freedom still felt even while going through great tragedy and sorrow. The details are private, but the idea of writing out or sharing a testimony is priceless. 

I shared photos of my newly discovered treasure with my son, interning at a retreat and camp center in Western NC. Even through a text, he felt more closely connected to who she was. He felt closer to home. The timing of sending it was divine: he had been dealing with a particularly trying weekend. Sharing testimonies is encouraging. 

Another week, a young missionary shared a brief testimony during our Sunday service. She related an encounter where she had to ask God to move in hearts and open the door for her to speak the gospel when a door seemed almost impossible to maneuver. God answered that prayer. An hour after that service, my son called asking for prayer to connect with a young camper uncertain of his eternity. I shared the missionary’s testimony with him, cautioning him against manipulating moments but rather waiting on the Holy Spirit to do the work He promised to do of convicting. Sharing testimonies is encouraging and can give direction.

It’s not a new story. The Shunammite woman in 2 Kings 8 in the Bible, who ministered to Elisha, the Lord’s prophet, and whose son Elisha raised from the dead, had a remarkable testimony. It was so moving that the king of Israel heard about it, met her, and was so astounded that he restored the land and produce she had left while escaping a famine. Testimonies are powerful!

Many years ago, I remember my mom being on a personal mission to gather testimonies from friends – friends whose stories had been forgotten or remained unshared a generation later yet were a big part of who they became. I am so thankful for those stories she shared with me and even more thankful for the one I stumbled upon on Christmas evening.

Testimonies of the Lord’s transformation in lives, His presence and direction, and His mighty power move lives. They are not meant to be kept to ourselves. Sharing them empowers and encourages others, often when we have no idea they need to hear them. Maybe you need to hear one. Ask someone who you see walking in peace and joy. Perhaps you have one that needs to be heard or retold. When you feel a prompting, share it with someone who may not know the path you have walked.

By Ashlie Miller

Golden cornbread, deep dark collard greens, side meat and black-eyed peas in a dish of Hoppin’ John. Red beans, andouille sausage, and rice. Long noodles, dumplings, pomegranates? There are so many fascinating food traditions for New Year’s Day. I did not grow up with that custom, but several years ago, my husband shared that his grandmother did serve a Southern version of good fortune meals. And by the looks of the restocking of bags of dried black-eyed peas happening at Food Lion on New Year’s Eve, many of you also hold fast to this tradition.

I’m not superstitious (or even a “little stitious” for those who know that joke), but I do love traditions to mark days and seasons. Several years ago, I adapted the tradition for our family. I’m sure I stole – or nicely modified – the idea from someone to whom I now can’t recall to give credit. 

I apologize to the Southern mamas who can make good collards. I have no experience, but I am open to your tips. We settle for cabbage, which in its own right is a reference to cash. Sometimes, I might roast Brussel sprouts. This year, I used a can of Glory Foods canned greens and made cabbage and carrots for the less adventurous. Usually, we have blacked-eyed peas with some pork. This year, I used a recipe from Our State magazine for Hoppin’ John that did not disappoint. For the younger tastebuds, we also make macaroni and cheese (hey, it’s golden!). A good cornbread mix rounds out the meal. It is simple food – a perfect way to begin a year – simplicity. 

As we eat, we reflect on a year past and anticipate the year we have stepped into. We open the Bible and read verses like Psalm 65:11 – “You have crowned the year with bounty; Your wagon tracks overflow with abundance.” 

Then, we prayerfully read Proverbs 30:7-9:

“Two things I ask of you; deny them not to me before I die: Remove far from me flashed and lying; give me neither poverty nor riches; feed me with the food that is needful for me, lest I be full and deny you and say, ‘Who is the LORD?’ Or lest I be poor and steal and profane the name of my God.”

I’ve read stories that the old rabbis would give their young students saucers of honey as they read from the Torah so they would associate the sweetness of the honey with God’s Word – “taste and see.” I hope meals and traditions like these will forge sweet, lasting memories for my family and my spirit. 

If you have not already had a New Year’s meal, perhaps make one today. It does not have to be symbolic foods, but something simply memorable to set your heart up for a year of gratitude and dependence on the Maker and Redeemer. 

Now, will someone please pass the cornbread?

Ashlie Miller and her family rang in the New Year at their home in Concord, NC. Please send your collard tips to mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

By Ashlie Miller

“Bah, humbug” may be the most familiar quote from Ebenezer Scrooge in A Christmas Carol, but another quote captures who the man becomes by the end of the book: “I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future.”

“Keeping Christmas” is not quite the same as prolonging it. You may already have your Christmas tree on the curb and most of your seasonal decor packed away. Perhaps you wait until the New Year to remove festal decorations. Some of us will wait until the end of the 12 Days of Christmas (Epiphany), while others will have lights or door wreaths that need to be put away well into March. The delay in putting away or prolonging the nostalgia is not what is meant by “keeping Christmas.”

In case you need a refresher, Ebenezer Scrooge begins his journey like many good stories – life as usual with a glimpse into what the character needs or wants. It becomes painfully obvious that the “squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner” that is Scrooge needs a softened, generous, merciful heart. Three spirits agree and reveal to Scrooge who he was, who he is, and who he is on course to become. 

The hardened man we first meet was once a young boy escaping the tragedies of reality with a terrific imagination absorbed in his books. For the first time, Ebenezer faces the humanity of the poor, pitiful soul he once was. He sees the boy become a man who had much – not just in stacks of coins, but even in love – and loses the more important of the two due to his own fear of the world.

Next, we see his current state and how his lack of interaction and concern with his fellow man affects others. Confronted with who he is, he desires to become involved in the lives of those he knows. Looking into the course he is setting toward his future, denial becomes realization, leading to regret, remorse, and, ultimately, repentance. He is a changed man.

While our Christmas songs, movies, and adornments may get carefully stored for another year, we can and should strive to honor Christmas in our hearts throughout the year. It is good to look momentarily at our past, our failures, and even our hurts and recognize the Savior who came to heal us and make us anew. We must look to our present and see missed opportunities to engage and love those around us. Our future is both very distant and arriving sooner than we anticipate. It can be a future of hope and promise or a devastating one we know we deserve but do not want to face. A right look at the past, present, and future and making peace by knowing the Prince of Peace can ensure being able to “keep Christmas” by keeping Christ at the center of every day, not just one holiday. 

How about you? Want to join me in keeping Christmas all year and living in the past, present, and future?

Ashlie Miller extends her seasonal decor until Epiphany, not because she celebrates the day, but because she needs an acceptable excuse for slowly packing it all away.