Ashlie Miller

By Ashlie Miller

If you have a toddler in your life, you know they can become obsessed with almost anything. For many, it’s choo-choo trains, earth movers, cartoon characters, dinosaurs, and rocket ships, but there are plenty who have very specific fascinations with unique objects.  Just this week, I saw a video of a tiny toddler who puts his hand over his heart anytime he sees an American flag – on boxes, packages, canned items, and more (hooray for goods still made in the U.S.A.).

As a mom of five, I have ridden the waves of multiple obsessions. One of my favorites was my oldest’s discovery of cuckoo clocks. Back in the day of dial-up modems, we would often take a few minutes a day to find videos of a German clock-maker’s collection sale. My son was entranced and could identify all the parts of these clocks when he was 2 years old and didn’t mind sharing his knowledge with anyone who would listen.

He carried that obsession for several years. At one point, he started praying that God would give him one. As a one-income family keeping track of every dollar we needed, we did not seriously consider the luxury of such a clock.

One Tuesday morning at a midweek ladies’ Bible study, we were discussing prayer. I must have used this childlike prayer as an illustration of some prayers receiving a “no” for an answer. About two weeks later, a lady from that group came up to me at church saying with a knowing grin, “I have something for you. Actually, it’s for your son.” Without any sense of decorum whatsoever, I blurted, “I think I know what it is!” I am not sure why such boldness exploded from me at that moment, but she laughed and said, “I have had this cuckoo clock for years in a closet, unopened. I would like for him to have it.”

Surprised, delighted, amazed – these reactions were shared among our small family. The story is part of our family folklore – stories demonstrating God’s care and concern for the things that delight us. Since that time, our family has seen many more answers to prayer. Some have been big and others, seemingly trivial, but not to the one asking.

When was the last time you asked God for something that others would deem as trivial? If you’re above the age of 13, it may have been a long, long time. It seems we stop asking in childlike faith far too soon in life, before we even understand the beauty of the relationship with a Heavenly Father.

Life’s circumstances and troubles often leave us jaded; the world we live in may leave us pessimistic and disillusioned. Yet, if we know God as our redeeming Father, He is still there, waiting to be asked, waiting to experience the playful relationship and the childlike faith and trust that come with asking. Pray for the big things, but pray for the simpler things, too.

By Ashlie Miller

I struggled to write this piece, if I am honest. Although I just squeaked in for the bicentennial year, it is not as likely that I’ll be around to see the tricentennial in 50 more years. (Wow, 50 years certainly went by faster than I thought possible. Our country really is still so young and new.)

Thinking about a piece to write for the semiquincentennial (that’s a five-dollar word) carries certain weight. How does one capture such a milestone adequately in a compressed space? Do I approach things with grimaced reflection of the many woes, ills, and discontent reflected by much of the media and society at large? Does one make amends for ancestors’ mistakes or reflect with a glorified nostalgia? There are dangers in any way one would approach it.

So, I approach it the only way I know how – with personal, honest, unapologetic reflection on how some of the Four Freedoms have affected me over the 50 years since the bicentennial.

I am thankful to have been born to parents who had the freedom to choose or not choose the religious experience that they desired. In my case, it led to a sense of peace and contentment just before a terminal illness journey that would alter what family would look like.

I’m thankful that although my father suffered delayed consequences from service to his country in a war he probably did not want to fight, he still had access to medical care. The result may not have been a cure for him but led to hopeful interventions decades later for others. My mother received provision to care for two children after he was gone. It was not luxury, but it did provide for many necessities. My mother was able to graduate from college and work, further enabling provisions that her peers in many other countries could not have enjoyed.

I had the freedom to learn in a variety of schools and be taught in ways my parents thought best. Social Security enabled my mother to make some choices about our education. I may not have had the same clothes as my schoolmates, but I had access to opportunities because of how she prioritized the money she received. Furthermore, I could learn from a Christian worldview and still worship with friends from public school thanks to many other freedoms.

I’ve traveled abroad for leisure, ministry, and to learn because I can freely visit many places domestically without having to notify a local leader or request permission. I get to enjoy the beauty of many preserved natural spaces or learn about both the good and the ugly of our nation’s past at memorials and museums. I can even learn about discoveries and artistic achievements of other countries at exhibits in our museums.

I am free to read or write almost anything I want. I have the right to praise and regard what I please or criticize and complain to my heart’s desire.

As I reflect on the past and present, I’m truly thankful.  I don’t have to let others tell me how I’m supposed to feel or think – that’s one of the freedoms I’m grateful for.  I hope you take advantage of that freedom to celebrate all that is good in this beautiful land that we call home.

Ashlie Miller, a true Tar Heel, has family roots in North Carolina dating at least as early as the 1790s. You can email her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

By Ashlie Miller

It’s a common mistake, one you have likely experienced yourself: accidentally leaving an item you purchased at the checkout or in the buggy at the store. Usually, you can retrieve it without issue, and a sympathetic employee assures you that it happens often. Imagine my surprise recently at one of those not-really-a-dollar stores when I was met with a third degree and doubt about my story over a $1.50 item that had been left behind. Thankfully, the manager remedied the situation. Even though I was not to blame and my reputation matters little at a store where customers are no longer remembered by name, it still bothered me for several hours that my words were not believed.  It reminded me of an episode that occurred several years ago.

As a young adult, I was once falsely accused and chased down with accusations. (Trust me, it sounds more dramatic than it was.) One evening, I went to visit a slightly older friend with young children, who would often let me hang out and either help with the kids or chat with her. I thrived in a setting that also gave me some mentoring. I offered to pick up anything she needed on my way. Young moms often find that a blessing! My friend lived in Rockwell on a stretch of road with nothing more than a one-stop gas station. She needed bread, likely for some essential PB&Js for the boys. I may not have had much as a college student, but picking up gas station bread, I could do. I went in, picked up a loaf, and made my way past a couple of old-timers talking about the weather before paying the cashier. I departed a couple of miles down the road to my friend’s, blissfully unaware that I was being hunted like a felon.

As I pulled in, I heard a rumble on the gravel road as a woman yelled, “Did you forget something?” I recognized her as the clerk behind the counter. I held up my bread, wondering, “Is she making sure I got my bread with a tone that doesn’t match her concern?” I was bewildered. “The gas you forgot to pay for!” she retorted. I tilted my head quizzically. “But I didn’t even pull up to a pump? I came for bread.” Among the commotion, my friend hastened outside to defend my character. However, the woman assured me that a couple of witnesses (those old-timers) saw me pull off with the gas. I asked her how much I was accused of stealing. I wasn’t quite ready to show her my hand – a newer compact car with a gas gauge indicating less than a quarter-tank. These were the days when gas may have been cheap, but working college students could live off a quarter tank until absolutely necessary to fill up. She said it was a full tank’s worth, but when I offered to let her see my gas gauge, she declined and, without so much as an apology for the chase and false accusation, sped off.

To say my adrenaline was lit is an understatement. Do I call the police for that? Surely not. Do I need to clear my reputation at a place where I did nothing wrong and didn’t usually frequent for gas anyway? Ah, the truth revealed, and the slice of humble pie for the employee would have to be enough. Even though it was inconsequential, it still felt pretty horrible! Why do false accusations, even over small things, bother us so badly? Could it be that deep down we were designed to long for truth and justice?

I am grateful, though, for experiences like those that have helped me pray for others and think about judging those in much more dire situations. I can slowly and deliberately consider:  Was I there? Even if I was, could I have been distracted and not truly present? Is the information factual or colored with emotions and clickbait? Was I having a bad day when I thought I witnessed something? Were they? Am I quick to lean into gossip cloaked in a “this just in” post?

Lord, help me to slow my roll, my scroll, and my hasty judgments! Help me to remember truth wrapped in mercy and grace!

By Ashlie Miller

While Mother’s Day is responsible for catapulting card and flower sales, Father’s Day has been reduced evidently to beer paraphernalia, novelty office games, or grilling supplies that are more ornamental than useful. Dads, do you really want any of that stuff? The clearance tables, weeks later, would have me believe the answer is “no.”

Television and movies succumb to the common tropes of the befuddled father often surrendering to his inadequacies as a household manager or the overconfident but not taken seriously professional or blue-collar worker. Why would anyone want to spend a Sunday celebrating someone like that?

Fathers are often absent from the nuclear family or, at best, disengaged. Then there are families who have lost fathers due to tragic situations, abandonment, or terminal illness. My childhood was not unscathed either.

Fortunately, I was blessed with precious father figures for different seasons of life. My Daddy, the definer of what I would think “Father” would be – tall, handsome, a Marine. Oorah! I saw him as strong, although I did not know he was living with cancer. My maternal granddaddy along with my grandmother, stepped in during difficult years to love and to care for me.  Later, God provided a stepfather and another grandfather to share love and care as well.

Then there is my my husband, with little expectation growing up of having a large family of his own, who has proven to be an exemplary father. He displays love, intentionality, and engagement with each of his children. The moments, memories, and milestones I missed by not having a bond with my own Daddy in my developmental years, I partake through his relationship with our children. I’m a big believer in God’s redemptive story. Seeing a loving earthly father imperfectly but  beautifully echo the Heavenly Father is something to celebrate!

Realistically, not everyone has the same redemptive stories in their lives. There may be generations of absent, disengaged, or abusive fathers. It can leave a person jaded from clearly observing the good in another father figure, even the Heavenly Father, yet He is the perfect Father. Maybe a good scavenger hunt through the Bible will set things right:

If you have been rejected or dealt with harshly by an uncaring father, God is tender and compassionate to those who fear him (Psalm 103:13).

Do you see yourself as fatherless? He inclines Himself to the fatherless and the widows and places the lonely and deserted into families and homes (Psalm 68:5-6).

Did your father fail to be the provider he was supposed to be? God the Father knows your needs before you ask (Matthew 6:8), sees your worth (Matthew 6:26), and not only rewards us based on His all-seeing presence (Matthew 6:4) but also gives good gifts for the asking (Matthew 7:11, James 1:17).

Whether or not you have had a loving example of fatherhood, Father’s Day can be happy if you get to know the Heavenly Father this weekend.

By Ashlie Miller

“Have a great summer!” If you dig up an old school yearbook, someone at some point likely wrote that in the front or end pages of yours. Although it’s in the middle of the year, summer comes at a closure and seasonal “goodbye” for many people. We wish a “great summer” in a way that we do not proclaim any other season, except perhaps the Christmas holiday. While each season has its gift, does any season provide as much time for recreation, leisure, and renewal?

Swimming, running, and pickleball, hiking and camping in the great outdoors, attending games, outdoor concerts, movies in the park, grilling at the neighbor’s (Northern or Cali transplants, do not call this a barbecue, please), block parties, summer-themed festivals, and even the quieter hobbies of bird watching and gardening all bid us outside. Or maybe you escape the humidity and enjoy the air conditioning by catching up on puzzles, watching Christmas movies in July, completing the work-in-progress hobby or task, or reading.

Many also find a fire reignited, not just by sitting around a campfire and sharing stories and thoughts, but perhaps as students attending a camp or children at a Vacation Bible School. I remember the days of hot camp meetings as choirs joined together and preachers preached under a large tent over a sawdust-laden ground. 

Attendees of VBS, youth camps, and seasonal church meetings often leave with a sense of renewal, rededication, or recommitment to what (or Who) matters most. 

Even work can seem less like the exhausting tedium of toil in this season for some (with apologies to landscapers and road-workers). Extended hours of daylight can provide more opportunities for recreation after hours. 

The season can be a life-giving recharge before schedules for many resume or take an upswing in September. Recreation lives up to the name of RE-creating life and vibrancy within us.

Summer often takes us back to the memory of Eden – the garden of the dawn of the ages that held such promise, but was spoiled by mankind’s will, desire, and lack of contentment, trust, and obedience. The place of walking in intimate communion with God. 

We look to re-create such things through moments of leisure. Maybe if we spend enough time appreciating nature, we will learn something about ourselves or something greater beyond ourselves, if such things exist. Perhaps if we make time to connect with our neighbors, friends, or community, a hole of deep communion will be filled. If we are lucky, maybe some focused solitude on a worthwhile project will make work feel purposeful, beautiful, and enjoyable for once. But summer will end, and there may still be desires unsatisfied. C.S. Lewis famously wrote, “If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.”

Let’s not pretend that we can recreate Eden or heaven on earth through our recreation this summer, but if such pleasures and pauses bring a greater awareness of creation, our Creator, and a need to return to such things, we truly can “have a great summer!”

By Ashlie Miller

Recently, our 18-year-old son graduated from high school. While he was but a newborn, an event nearby rocked the community – what became known as the “Sun Drop Murders” (whose victims were Donna Barnhardt and Darrell Noles). Our family would often pass by the area on the way to my in-laws, the kids’ grandparents.

At our son’s graduation, I reminisced on the passage of time – a time that went by too quickly. I recall the early years of struggling with language arts in particular, and then seeing him later thrive and enjoy those subjects. Likewise, it seemed like yesterday that he was struggling to breathe when many colds would affect his little body and turn into infections. The sweet times when I was his world, and he was mine, transformed into launching into independence. Eighteen years flew by too quickly. Some days were long, but the years really were short, like the saying goes.

But 18 years can also drag on senselessly, sometimes seemingly without hope. While we cannot speak on behalf of the victims’ families, most of us know some measure of prolonged waiting, though many of us may not relate to a sense of delayed justice. In this case, and in my comparison, those years of waiting really have been a lifetime.

Perhaps you resonate with excruciating years of waiting for something or someone. We resonate with the Psalmist who said, “How long, O Lord?” (Psalm 13:1). Tragedy, estrangement, betrayal, despair, and scarcity can feel more tangible than the resolution our soul longs for.

Though these murders may have been unsolved, they were never fully closed. The Concord investigators pursued justice, and the case was never forgotten, either by the families or law enforcement, thankfully.

In our own lives, we can also trust that God sees all wrongs that need to be made right, keeps record of our tears, and never forgets. But when we cannot see Him working, or things are not resolved in our way and understanding, we might doubt Him or our faith. Yet, He is still working. The recent arrest can remind us that secrets have an expiration date. Yes, sometimes humans can uncover them. But our Sovereign God sees when things happen and will, in His way and time, either now or in eternity, execute perfect justice.

Do you feel unsettled when stories seem unfinished? For years, I remember seeing the banner outside the Sun Drop Bottling Company with requests for information on the horrendous acts against the sanctity of two lives. Eventually, though there was no resolution or answers, the banner eventually came down. It still felt unsettling when I would drive down Old Concord-Salisbury Road. We all still longed for answers, none more so than their families. Many people chimed in on social media when the case broke in May. So many exclamations of justice served and resolution, because deep down, each of us knows that evil should not have the last word. Is that evidence that we were created by a just Judge?

Stories like these give us cause to celebrate our local law enforcement. But it does not have to end there. We can reflect on God’s sovereignty, that He never forgets, that true justice (His justice) will prevail, and our longing for it is evidence of His design in us (whether we believe in Him or not).

By Ashlie Miller

“Where are you going to college?” That was the default question for my generation and maybe yours upon high school graduation. The follow-up question naturally assumed you had some idea about your life – “What do you plan to study?” Such weighty questions for mere 18-year-olds upon graduating high school.

Over time, with respect given to those entering the trades (I see you, Mike Rowe) or wanting to avoid huge debt, the question has transformed into, “What are your plans after graduation?” and acknowledges other options including community college, the trades, a gap year (or years), the military, and many other once-in-a-lifetime opportunities to do while you’re young.

But everyone, regardless of their chosen vehicle, is still trying to arrive at their destination, even if they are not yet certain where that is. So how can a graduate – or anyone for that matter – be certain they will reach their destination? My oldest son carries a keychain that says, “A man who follows God always gets to where he is going.” Is that an exclusive and perhaps naïve thought?

First, one has to consider the age-old perplexing question of, “What is my purpose?” Devoid of Christ, who can say? Who could define purpose and humanity’s end goal?

With Christ, many know that our chief end (as the catechism states) is to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever. In that understanding, God “make[s] known to me the path of life; in Your presence there is fullness of joy; at Your right hand are pleasures forevermore (Psalm 16:11). That is a promise of fulfillment regardless of a gap year or earning a Master’s.

But there are so many ways to go. How can anyone discern the perfect path? Reading God’s Word regularly as a Holy Spirit-indwelt Christian will light our path, even as we walk by faith (see Psalm 119:105). But even with a well-lit path, there are many distractions. How can we find and use wisdom? James 1:5 tells us that God is waiting to generously give us wisdom if we will simply ask.

Why wouldn’t we ask? Because we prefer to handle most things ourselves. Yet Proverbs 3:5-6 (perhaps one of the more familiar Proverbs) tells us to trust in and acknowledge the Lord alone, wholeheartedly, and not rely on our own understanding. The result? God will straighten out our paths. A straight path is much smoother than detours and dubious shortcuts.

Even with all these Divine helps, we are still prone to question our decisions. That is when we can rest in promises found in Psalm 32:23-34 and Proverbs 16:9, which both tell us that though we may make plans for our lives, if we delight in God’s ways, He promises to establish our steps.

These are truths worth remembering ourselves as we journey through life. If you have young family or friends in the class of 2026, perhaps you could share these with them to encourage them as they enter the big, wide unknown.

Ashlie Miller just celebrated the graduation of one of her sons. You can email her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

By Ashlie Miller

My latest $2 splurge at a recent yard sale was “The American Patriot’s Almanac: Daily Readings on America.” Written as a “this day in history,” it prompted me to go down online rabbit holes to learn more about Memorial Day.

On April 26, 1866, many gathered in the South to decorate the graves of fallen Confederate soldiers. This date, April 26, marked the surrender of the Confederacy in North Carolina in 1865. Yet, during those commemorations, some Southerners noticed the unadorned, neglected graves of Union soldiers left behind. Some may have been brothers or uncles. Many could have simply been strangers. But all were fellow humans, fellow Americans. This acknowledgment—the sanctity of life even in death—tugged at their heartstrings. These men once belonged to someone. So, they also decorated the graves of their enemies in battle (Union Soldiers), but brothers in humankind.

Can you imagine something like that happening today – recognizing the humanity in someone who varies so vastly from you, even to the point of death? This is not a call to celebrate the difference, but to look past their opposing point of view to see the person.

A few years later, in May 1868, Major General John A. Logan commissioned Decoration Day, calling 5,000 people to gather at Arlington National Cemetery for this day of remembrance. Late May was chosen for the abundance of blooms throughout the North and the South available to bestow upon the graves. General James A. Garfield, who was not yet president, gave a speech that may be worth taking your time to read in full this holiday weekend. A quick Google search will bring it up. I was struck by the following:

“I am oppressed with a sense of the impropriety of uttering words on this occasion. If silence is ever golden, it must be here beside the graves of fifteen thousand men, whose lives were more significant than speech, and whose death was a poem, the music of which can never be sung…We do not know one promise these men made, one pledge they gave, one word they spoke; but we do know they summed up and perfected, by one supreme act, the highest virtues of men and citizens. For love of country they accepted death, and thus resolved all doubts, and made immortal their patriotism and their virtue.”

Being remembered for how one dies, not what one says – we will not likely be asked to pay such a high price. But while many of us work to cultivate a perfect social media post, do we seek to live lives built on action? At the end of the day – the end of our lives – what will matter most is what we did, not what we said.

We would all do well to remember the men “whose death was a poem” this holiday and strive to live lives louder than our words.

Ashlie Miller lives with her family in Concord. You can contact her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

By Ashlie Miller

Early Monday morning, I was shocked and saddened to see that an older couple had succumbed to the flames of a house fire in Rowan County just before midnight Sunday. Life taken in such a way is nothing short of tragic.

Yet, later in the day, as reported online by the local paper, I saw the couple’s church – Homestead Baptist – post encouraging scripture and announcing a prayer vigil. My husband and I were honored to serve this family for a couple of years at that church when we were young in ministry over 20 years ago. To call them pillars of their community is an understatement, as many attested at the prayer vigil Monday evening.

What struck me most, in the midst of tears and sorrows, was that there was still talk of God’s goodness. Indeed, the night ended with CeCe Winans’ rendition of The Goodness of God. This church is clearly clinging to the verse they shared –                    1 Thessalonians 4:13-14 – “that ye sorrow not, even as others which have no hope.” 

But what about others?

Being a Christian and a minister’s wife has given me unique opportunities to be by bedsides, in funeral parlors, and in homes of many who grieve. While many profess to know God, not all who profess such things grieve with hope.

Anger is a common response to the death of a loved one; in fact, many recognize it as one of the stages of grief. Even righteous Job in the Bible sat in this stage, believing God to be an unjust tyrant for a season. But while some can still say or will eventually remember that “God is good,” there are many who will live much of their lives believing “God is cruel” for taking a loved one, regardless of age or situation.

In tragic losses, how can we still see God as good and not a cruel tyrant? It may help to begin with questions about the faith system we lean into:

Do my beliefs point to an eternity manipulated by mankind? Does heavenly assurance have more to do with works on my own behalf or prayers said and works done on behalf of another? What if the way I view the scales when my works are weighed is different from my god’s point of view? Could he mercilessly revoke earnings? If so, it would be easy to see why I could believe that God could be cruel.

Do my beliefs reflect confidence in God’s grace and mercy—given through the perfect sacrifice of Jesus and leading to eternal peace—or do they reflect confidence in my own efforts to earn a place there? Do I realize that breath is a gift from God that He gives and can take at His will for His glory? If so, then whatever death befalls me or my loved one may be the result of living in a fallen, sinful world, but the gift available for eternal life reveals a good God.

Next week, the headlines will reflect more tragedies, perhaps one close to you. Once past the shock and natural stages of anger, will you, too, be able to say, “God is good”?

By Ashlie Miller

If this weekend is difficult because Mom is gone, I write this for you:

Imagine writing a letter to Mom who has passed away – it may be pretty raw. For many, Mother’s Day can be a lonely, sad day. Memories of gathering for picnics or brunch, going shopping, or taking a special trip can be replaced by wondering what to do with the Sunday or weekend once Mom is no longer present.

Your mother may have died suddenly, or you may have had a long goodbye. While we may celebrate that our mothers are no longer living with pain, sometimes there is still a pain that lingers inside us. It’s something more than grief of lost things – the person, the relationship, the future memories to be missed. For some, there are things left unsaid, sorrow over past actions, or regrets about what we could not do or prevent.

Maybe your family didn’t say things that should be said, like “I love you,” “I’m proud of you,” “I’m sorry,” or “I forgive you.” There was no great animosity in the relationship; things went well, in general, but there was no real verbal declaration of true love.

Or perhaps, you live with your head down in shame and guilt over the lack of honor given to your mother during a season of rebellion. It may not have even been for most of your relationship, or perhaps it was. Her patience and prayers during your rebellion welcomed you back home, but now that she’s gone, you wish you could go back in time to undo what was done. Wasted years, we may call them.

Some children learn of their mom’s health issues too late in the game. Mom was trying to protect you from hurt, decisions, financial or other obligations. You believe you could have done more if you had known earlier. And you feel guilt, or maybe even anger.

“Does she know how I feel? Does she know I have regrets? Does she know I am sorry?” If we could write a letter to her, maybe it would be filled with things like that. But what would she say? I cannot speak for all mothers, but for the Christian mother, here are two things we know are true:

Firstly, God Himself has wiped away all of Mom’s tears. The sorrows she carried on earth are healed perfectly! (See Revelation 7:17 and 21:4). Have you had seasons where you get past hurt or manage it in the moment? That is only a foretaste of the grace God bestows upon His beloved in eternity – and when He wipes away tears, He does so completely and perfectly.

Secondly, Mom is not remembering any of the former earthly things – any losses, any hurts, but even the wins and gains all fade when before the presence of God (see Isaiah 65:17). That comforts my heart! She is so overwhelmed before her Maker, Savior, and Sustainer that everything pales in comparison. She could not remember even if she wanted to.

On this Mother’s Day weekend, for those without Mom, remember these truths and live in the light of love and forgiveness. If your mom is still here, do the best that you can, considering the relationship, to let her know you love her.

Ashlie Miller’s mom is in heaven, but with five children of her own, Mother’s Day is still sweet. You may email her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.