Ashlie Miller

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.

By Ashlie Miller

Rarely do we see thorns as a positive thing, though the loveliest roses are accompanied by them. Perhaps it was an adaptation after the Fall to protect the plant. Usually, however, we are not looking to be surrounded by thorns. They prevent our movement and hinder our freedom to explore.

Yet, there are times when thorns are a good thing, and even the hindering of a path proves beneficial. In the book of Hosea (chapter 2, verse 6) in the Bible, God says of Israel (His chosen people), that in their unfaithfulness, He would put up a hedge of thorns as a wall around her. This would keep her from the liberty to pursue other idols that would ultimately be destructive to her.

Maybe you have prayed for a “hedge of protection” around someone you love or your own family as they embark upon an adventure. I usually think of a hedge as a large, square-cut bush to mark off a territory or to provide privacy. In this passage, God puts up a hedge less to block something from getting in but more to prevent His people from chasing after sinful lifestyles.

Have you ever felt this type of intervention? It may look like being laid off or having more month than there is money. Maybe the hardship is being too busy to stop and pursue things for oneself or for leisure. Chronic health issues may hinder undertakings. Could it be that the Lord knows our struggle to cultivate idle time so that it does not become idol time? He mercifully puts up a blockade to keep us safe from such endeavors during seasons of life that need pause for maturing and growing in God’s Word and wisdom.

I enjoy a walk on a well-maintained trail, but at times, we venture onto unmarked trails through the woods. Occasionally, thorns line the paths, and as a courtesy to those behind the leader, we will either call out “Thorns!” or carefully push them aside while the smaller hikers pass through. However, there are times when a walk leads to an area that is not worth exploring further because of the amount of brush and thorns. We might turn aside or even make our way back to clearer paths.

I love this verse in the song, Already Yours by Ordinary Time:

“You are waiting down all these roads,

‘Round every blind corner You can be found.

But when I turn down my own easy path

Will Your thorns reach out to tug

And turn me ‘round?

May Your thorns reach out and tug me around.”

Maybe you are walking down a path where you can’t seem to make progress. There is pain – not the good kind from working muscles that have been in a state of atrophy – but real hurt or harm. There is heartache, guilt, and shame. You are not making gains in life nor seeing a light at the end of the tunnel.

Could it be thorns that are trying to pull you back and turn you around? Don’t keep trudging through the thorns. Perhaps they are merciful hands trying to return you to the straight and clear path.

By Ashlie Miller

“God is so good!” my young adult son proclaimed after hearing his father (and pastor) echo something my son and I had discussed just a day earlier. “Did you and Dad talk about this?” he asked. “No, not at all, I suppose God wanted both you and me to remember the lesson,” I replied.

Less than 24 hours before, my son and I were talking about how young adults can have great wisdom that those much older take note of. “You don’t sound like most people your age,” he sometimes hears, in response to his reflections on church, God, and being a Christian. Why is that? Well, he would be the first to tell you he has had the benefit of years of discipleship, even outside the home. You may call it indoctrination, but that does not buffet his experience. He knows how he has, at times, let free will and other influences direct him toward more dangerous indoctrination.

We have learned the value of intentional discipleship. Beyond the wise words of a sage or mentor, in discipleship, there is a sense of accountability, learning, discernment, and allowing questions from someone who loves you about the choices you make.

Sadly, too often in the Church, new life in Christ (whether at a young age or an older one) is celebrated for its vivacity and zeal, yet nothing is done to pour into it further or direct it so it does not become a wildfire.

It makes me think of the importance of pollination with flowers. Flowers are the beauty of spring! They beckon the bees, butterflies, hummingbirds, and many other critters to pollinate. Flowers certainly bring us as humans some measure of joy as they adorn gardens, landscapes, and even hidden coves. Their presence reflects hope and beauty – much needed in the grind of life. But flowers do fade over time.

Imagine an apple orchard in bloom. How intoxicating! For a while, it would be a lovely, ethereal place to visit. Probably some really beautiful photo opportunities. But if the blossoms never transitioned into fruit, what a disappointment – not only to us as consumers, but to the farmers and the ecosystem.

Likewise, the fruit of the Spirit that comes after years of sanctification and growth is meant to benefit the Church and others regularly.  Love, joy, peace, patience, etc., are virtues that develop within us as evidence of the Holy Spirit living within! We were not meant to live as passionate, zealous people who never grow fruit to share with others!

Who has helped or is helping you grow beyond your passion? What effervescent young ones are giving you hope and allowing you to help navigate their energy to lasting fruit?

Ashlie Miller wipes the pollen off her porch table not nearly often enough lately. You can email her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

By Ashlie Miller

Reading through Galatians, two words leap off the page – “even Barnabas.” Barnabas is one of the most likable of the many followers of Jesus mentioned in the New Testament. Our first introduction to him in Acts 4 paints him not only as a very generous man but a great encourager – in fact, his name means “Son of Encouragement.” When Saul, former persecutor of the Church, is transformed by the Holy Spirit into Paul, proclaimer of the gospel of Christ, he is met with due skepticism. Barnabas steps in with an open mind, not letting fear of Paul’s past affect his own confidence in the Holy Spirit’s ability to use this new friend and fellow Christ-follower. It is Barnabas who brings Paul to the other apostles in Acts 9 to offer a first-hand account of Paul’s transformation. Acts goes on to show Barnabas as a trustworthy, spirit-filled exhorter (Acts 11).

This disciple is easy to love, which makes the words “even Barnabas” hit like a gut-punch. For context: “But when Cephas (Peter) came to Antioch, I opposed him to his face, because he stood condemned. For before certain men came from James, he was eating with the Gentiles; but when they came he drew back and separated himself, fearing the circumcision party. And the rest of the Jews acted hypocritically along with him, so that even Barnabas was led astray by their hypocrisy” (Galatians 2:11-13).

“Even Barnabas.” The way Paul confronts his brother in Christ reminds me of the line from the Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar: “Et tu, Brute?” It hits with the same tenor. We have come to know Barnabas so very well, and now we wonder if we know him at all.

What happened? Although the Bible doesn’t fully elaborate on how Barnabas came to follow hypocrisy, I wonder if I can empathize here. He was doing so well in his Christian walk. If we were to make a chart of how to look and live like a Christian, he would be the poster child. Luke, the writer, refers to him as “a good man, and full of the Holy Spirit and of faith.” Barnabas surrounded himself with great followers and leaders, like Peter. I wonder if both Peter and Barnabas struggled with people-pleasing. Before we look at that latter phrase with contempt, let us remember that most of our weaknesses are the backside of the coin of a strength. Even Paul speaks of being all things to all people for the sake of winning some to Christ. But when we seek to please and accommodate people out of fear of how they will respond to us rather than out of an opportunity to win them to Christ, we can become hypocritical.

Perhaps it is the elementary mistake of forgetting the rules of “follow the leader.” In case it’s been a minute since you last played: it has one rule – wait for it – “follow the leader.” Participants line up in a single file, imitating and following the leader as he or she walks or moves. It is a reflection of the leader. Most who lose and get called out are those who have their eyes on someone else in front of them or are distracted by something else outside the game. Winners are those rule followers who keep their eyes on the leader.

Thankfully, I can tell you there is hope in the story. After this moment of confrontation, Barnabas was still found useful for the kingdom and the building of the church. Paul mentioned this brother in Christ in a later letter with affection. Though his death is not mentioned in the Bible, early scholars report that it is likely Barnabas died a martyr’s death, possibly in Cyprus, indicating that he continued his walk of faith. There is hope for us and fellow-believers, too. At some point in our journey, many of us will need to be reminded of the rules of “follow the leader,”and when we are reminded and readjust, we, too, can continue in steadfastness.

By Ashlie Miller

Preach the gospel at all times. Use words if necessary.

You’ve probably heard something like that, maybe you’ve even quoted it. I did not choose to put it in quotes because it turns out Francis of Assisi did not actually say that. There are plenty of articles and even books on the misattributed quote, so I will not elaborate on its inauthenticity. But, explore the idea of the quote, we will.

Imagine serving in a church all your life. It’s all you’ve ever known. You practically live at church. It is said you even serve before the presence of the Lord. I’m not talking about modern pastors’ kids (PKs), although my kids would probably assume this paragraph is about them. If anyone would know God, you would assume someone serving and growing before God would, well, know Him.

Turns out, when it comes to knowing God, words are necessary. 1 Samuel 3 gives the account of a boy (Samuel) who has been serving in the temple since he was a weaned toddler, along with the priest Eli. He slept near the ark of the covenant, where the Bible tells us God’s presence dwelt. Yet the account tells us that Samuel did not yet know the LORD because God had not yet revealed His Word to him. God’s revealed word (by speaking to Samuel) was necessary for knowing Him intimately.

I love nature and know that God reveals His divine power and attributes through His creation (see Romans 1:20). That may draw me in to seek the Creator and learn the purpose and plan of redemption found only through the revealed word in Scripture, but alone, nature is not enough to learn that.

I love seeing kindness in both public and private settings. When I was younger, I would assume most anyone who was nice was probably a Christian. A very limiting assumption. Worldly kindness does not produce long-lasting, satisfying fruit. It may still be a welcome kindness, but it differs from the kind of kindness that Christians should live out daily. Our actions should back up what we say. But what are we saying? Or are we even saying anything? Would anyone know what motivates a Christian to behave kindly, others-focused, and consistent with their beliefs if they never open their mouths?

“Use your words,” many parents will say as a child works through a whiny tantrum. Their actions are not enough to clearly communicate their need. “Lord, please send somebody to tell my loved one about Jesus,” many a praying Grandmother has cried out over the years. She knows that kind actions won’t be enough for her loved one. He needs words. She knows what Romans 10:14 says, “How then will they call on Him in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in Him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching?” Preaching is proclaiming. Proclaiming is using words out loud.

To ignore using words for the Gospel is to ignore who the Gospel is about – Jesus, also called the Word. Clearly, as Christians, our words must be backed with action, but there must be words for clarity. Christians, why are you doing the good that you do?  Use your words.

By Ashlie Miller

What a week. If you follow Holy Week readings and mark the days, the end of the past week was heavy. Judas, one of the 12, has betrayed Jesus by a very intimate sign. When Jesus asks those coming for Him whom they seek, and they say “Jesus of Nazareth,”He replies, “I am He.” He discloses His identity to the soldiers, religious officers, and Pharisees, who respond by falling, certainly not in worship, but perhaps in fear or overwhelmed by His power (though they do not recognize Him as God). Yet, all of them proceed after this powerful display with business as usual.

Then, Peter, slices off the ear of Malchus (servant of the high priest), nearly missing his neck, possibly. Jesus heals him instantly. Pilate later questions truth, not realizing he is questioning the Person of Truth (Jesus Christ). So many Divine encounters, yet we have no record that the nameless soldiers who fell down at Jesus’ power, nor Malchus, who had a direct encounter, nor Pilate questioning and having the Answer before him, submitted to Jesus.

This wasn’t new, even for God’s people. One could choose most any Old Testament book and find similar intimate encounters with God that were ignored, misunderstood, disobeyed, or rejected – pick a negative response.

Today, many remain in doubt, or worse, disbelief. You have likely heard or said yourself, “If I had an unmistakable encounter with God, then I would change.” But, deep down, don’t we know better? History and Scripture tell us otherwise. What a dangerously sad position to be in – to be the presence of the great “I AM,” dismiss an intimate encounter, and continue living unchanged.

It is easy to dismiss what we cannot see. Without a relationship with the Divine, how would we expect to see Him? We can hear truth, see truth, even be touched (or healed in some way) by it, but unless we know Truth as a Person, a Divine encounter can just seem like a coincidence, the universe following a path, medical intervention working, enlightenment, or worse, a lie. It can even look like someone living the church life, but never truly knowing the One who is the Sacrifice and Atonement, the Resurrection, the Life now, and the Promise of Eternal Life. How could we miss seeing it? We all walk in blindness without the merciful sight received upon salvation.

How close have you been? It could be that you’ve blindly missed the countless encounters or have chosen to continue on your own path. It is the grace of God that would ever give us even one display of His greatness.

If you are looking for a close encounter of the Divine kind, can I suggest that you attend an Easter service at a church that proclaims the transformative power of the resurrection? God has given us His Word – that we can read! He offers His Spirit to dwell in us! How much closer can we get this side of Heaven?

Ashlie Miller responded to close encounters while growing up in China Grove with her family. You may share your own with her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

By Ashlie Miller

If you pass by some grocery store aisle end-caps this week, you will likely see products that you may not normally purchase, but many Jewish and Christian households will buy in preparation for the Passover Seder, a feast dating back to the Exodus in the Old Testament.

It is an amazing tradition, first instituted as God prepared the children of Israel for their Exodus from Egypt, and repeated annually. It marks remembrance of the Angel of Death,  charged with slaying the firstborn in each home (the 10th plague), passing over households that were marked by the blood of a sacrificial lamb. After this initial Passover, the newly-freed Israelites then witnessed the miracle of the Red Sea splitting to allow them safe passage on dry land, and then drowning the chariot-warriors chasing them from Egypt.

Later, in the book of Joshua, the Jordan River splits, allowing safe passage, this time to enter the promised land. And guess when this happened – 40 years after the parting of the Red Sea and during Passover.

I really took note of that for the first time this year in my Bible reading. As modern American readers, it is easy to dismiss notes about the Jewish calendar because our Gregorian calendar is different, and thus we cannot relate to the timeline. But the longer I study God’s Word, the more these little details seem to pop off the pages.

In both instances, amazing miracles of water splitting to allow safe passage were coupled with Passover – the meal marking deliverance, mercy, and safety.

It recalls to mind another passage from Luke 10:20. The disciples have been sent to towns to proclaim the gospel with sign gifts of healing and Jesus’ power through them to cast out demons. They are in awe that the demons are subject to Him. Jesus’ response is that that is a little thing compared to the reconciliation of humanity with the Almighty God through eternal life in Jesus Christ – their names are written in His book.

Miracles are astounding. That God can execute authority and control over nature is remarkable! He is supernatural! But the greatest miracles are those whose lives have been transformed and reconciled with their Creator through the Sacrificial Lamb of Jesus Christ. I love that both of these water-crossing miracles are paired with the Passover Seder – a reminder of the greater miracle.

The miracle of a spiritual Passover – deliverance, mercy, eternal safety – is available to all. Even Rahab the prostitute, who believed in the God of the Israelites, knew enough to bring her entire family within her home for safety, while leaving out a scarlet cord, as judgment and death passed by her, as promised. God is inclusive in that He invites all, yet He is specific in the way to know His love, shelter, and reconciliation.

Whether we participate in a Seder meal this week, watch The Ten Commandments on television, or read through the Holy Week passages (which include the Last Supper Seder), if we are in Christ, we can rejoice over the personal Passover we have experienced. If you do not know about this personal Passover that brings perfect peace and joy, find a Bible-believing church this Palm Sunday and Easter Sunday to find out more.

By Ashlie Miller

Spring fever takes on different forms for each of us. Are you eager to clean or declutter? Perhaps you’d like to remove the weeds and prepare the garden beds. Has your beloved has begun working on an extensive list of household repairs – a “honey, do” list? The grill is beckoning you to give it a good scrub and fire it up. Or are you thinking about leisure in nature? Maybe you’re planning a coastal getaway as soon as the weather is consistently above 70. Or perhaps you just want a day trip with friends on a hike.

While many of those are beckoning different ears in my home, a family and friends hike was recently a welcome call to each of us. We met up with friends early one Saturday for a climb up Crowder’s Mountain, one of the more accessible adventures that allows time for other activities and plans.

Having been only once, I referenced my photos of a previous hike, reminding me of the payoff at the end – a pretty great view helping you forget you’re anywhere near a big city, even if for but a moment. Though the morning began with mist and fog, somehow, it did not affect my hopes of a good view later.

Something you should know about me, I love to take my time in nature. I may not know the name of each shell I pick up on the beach, but a beachcomber, I am. I like to ramble, maybe I’m a strand-loper, a wanderer, a saunterer. I may be aiming to end my walk at the pier, but my focus is on sea-foam hitting my toes, collecting sharks’ teeth, seaglass, and shells, or watching creatures retreat to their safe places. In the forest, I like to feel moss, snap photos of roots and mushrooms, and admire lichens. Maybe I’m a nemophilist, a dendrophile, a micro-nature enthusiast. Don’t ask me the names of each tree whose bark and leaves I am drawn to touch, but I will point out the interesting and lovely ones. I like the journey. I like noticing things.

But when on a hike with friends and family, the destination (and surviving steep inclines) is the goal. I don’t want to hold anyone back, but I miss so much on the way up! On this hike, I had a realization about journeying through life. We did eventually arrive at the top along with many other hikers. But, instead of gazing far across a wide expanse, fog and mist limited the view. There was still joy to be had. Victory in making it up! Rejoining other hikers we had met at the base. Catching our breath before carefully scaling down a long (and slightly slippery) flight of stairs. Still, reaching the summit did not meet expectations.

Don’t we often look at life with summits in mind instead of the journey up? Various milestones and mountains we climb, thinking,“If I could only get to the top, it will be worth it” or “Focus on the payoff, don’t get distracted.” I get it, completion is important. But sometimes I get too busy focusing on the end goal that I miss it – the beauty in the little micro-worlds happening all around me along the climb. Missing the things set before me along the journey that are not actually in the way, but rather a beautiful part of the way.

We may make it to the top of our climb only to find out we overlooked the loveliest parts. Take it slow, meander, mosey, saunter a bit. Pausing to observe, admire, and wonder can still get you there and nourish you along the way.