Ashlie Miller

By Ashlie Miller

Before bed last Saturday night, my youngest son was preparing for the worst, which would have been an ideal scenario in his little mind. Visions of a house lit by candles or lanterns, board games adorning the tables, perhaps a pop-up tent in the living room by the fireplace. We had prepped him for no snow, just ice, and he seemed okay with that. Needless to say, he (and I) were delighted to see enough snow to cover our roads, trace amounts on the yard, and enough in the backyard that it is still hanging around waiting for another snow, as the old wives’ tale goes. We did not lose power, much to his dismay, but there were still plenty of adventures and treasures that awaited us on Sunday.

Early Sunday morning, before I could tell them to double-layer, my youngest ones were out with plastic sleds to ride in our backyard. We have a small collection of barely-used sleds, like any NC flatlander may have acquired from yard sales of downsizing households in our area. Thus, we are set to be the heroes of the neighborhood, at least among the youngest neighborlings. They quickly set off toward one of the better hills, and as I trudged through the icy-covered snow, I noticed a gathering of neighbors we already knew as well as some we had been neighbors with for years, but never met. Neighbors shared sleds, hot cocoa from a thermos, and some electric hand warmers – each family contributing in some way to group fun.

We opened our household to welcome families for more cocoa, treats, soup, and conversation as little tykes (and big ones!) continued sledding in the backyard. Eventually, as families returned to their respective homes, I noticed a couple of teens and a tween missing from my brood. After touching base with the neighbors about the kids, we realized that some of mine were missing in action. It’s an easy thing to do, to get caught up in something as novel as our rare winter storms in search of the perfect hill, and join in with another adventurous family you know. Because many were in Sabbath mode, the idea of carrying mobile phones around the neighborhood did not seem necessary to either my teens or other neighbor adults enjoying the day. As a result, I, along with two other mothers, set out to find my wayward children. After searching all the cul-de-sacs and good hills, we learned we had just missed them, and sure enough, they were in the care of one of the best neighborhood families that we know and love. All was well. The worry that could have absorbed me had I trekked alone, looking over hill and street, was assuaged because I didn’t have to walk alone, consumed with catastrophizing thoughts.

The treasure of the weekend was not a thick layer of fluffy snow or even (at least in my son’s eyes) getting to survive a power outage. We did not get to gather in person with our church family. Yet, we did find other treasures – Bible study together, forging new relationships, and strengthening other bonds with friends and neighbors. Sometimes treasures are waiting in the midst of storms – even the icy ones. 

By Ashlie Miller

Does the weekend weather have you bundled and boarded up for maybe the next few days? It may be the perfect time to recalibrate a slow restart for 2026 and embrace your “Granny Era.” In case you haven’t heard the term on TikTok or from GenZers the last few years, it is embracing the crafts and hobbies of our grandmothers – think crocheting, painting, making things you could easily buy (like candles and soaps), and completing puzzles (hence, last week’s piece I wrote).

I embarked on an embroidery journey last year thanks to a Facebook stitch-along called Abide Embroidery and some sampler sets I found on Amazon. I continue to write in a journal with an ink pen instead of an iPhone app and began copying parts of the Bible in my handwriting. Time will tell if I prioritize and stick with these projects, but they have done a lot for my daily disposition as I incorporate my day with these slow endeavors.

Why are so many embracing handicrafts and hobbies of yesteryear? One need not be enlightened to realize why, when everything is fast (fashion, food, and even answers and counterfeit relationships). We crave stillness, rest, being fully present and undistracted, and dare I say a chance to develop patience and steadfastness. There is much to learn in the deliberate and steady acts that accompany the crafts and activities my grandmothers embraced.

Winter presents us with its occasional gifts of long, quiet evenings. I do believe each week in January has had at least 10 days in it! While the trees and plants are in their dormant state, not resisting their rest, we can ask: how are those around me affected when I resist seasons of rest, refreshment, and renewal? Do I journey through the rest of the year with a depleted disposition?

I consider Jesus during His time on earth: He walked everywhere, would withdraw from crowds after a gathering to spend time in conversation with His Father, but would be fully present when the crowds gathered, or the individual sought Him. He was at least a second-generation carpenter. He may not have had to take the time to measure twice and cut once, but surely He did not rush the process. Though we read the word “immediately” often in the New Testament, especially in the gospel of Mark, to convey the sense of urgency and limitations of time of Christ’s time on earth, it is clear that He was deliberate with His time.

In our highly productive world, there is the ever-present pressure to focus on multitasking towards many accomplishments. What if we turned our attention to being, well, attentive? Noticing things. Training our mind and perhaps even our fingers to be intentional in not laziness and idleness, but in activities that invite our full presence and solidarity of focus on a simple task. To breathe, enjoy, rest, and allow quiet growth.

Maybe this weekend of the unknown weather results, some canceled plans, and possibly being homebound will provide us all with opportunities to embrace our own “Granny era” and maybe invite a young person finding their own into our circle.

Now, where did I set that pin cushion?

By Ashlie Miller

I have a fondness for puzzles; maybe you do, too. Five years ago, puzzle and board game sales increased as people found themselves housebound for weeks and months on end. My oldest son bought me a 1000-piece puzzle this Christmas. I smiled and brought out a different 1000-piece puzzle later in the day that I knew he would enjoy (a Van Gogh-inspired one) and said, “Let’s get to work!”

I especially enjoy puzzles in the winter. Christmas busyness has passed, and productivity is stalled for a bit, yielding to opportunities to just be present. There is a beautiful quietness as one sorts edge pieces, those with words or unique patterns, and then the rest of the pieces. Isn’t it interesting that we see our desire for structure in life in something as simple as completing a puzzle? Usually, we try to get the frame – the edges – in place to help us understand scope and context. Some pieces seem very ordinary, nothing special – all those black pieces with no variation in shading. But, just like life, some parts are not meant to be showstoppers; they just exist to support the greater whole of what we see and experience.

In my most recent puzzle, I became frustrated at repeating patterns, even though they were patterns from art I enjoy. While unique patterns made some parts easier, a repetition of a background or color scheme could throw us off and stall our process. Discernment is key to getting things into the right alignment, both in puzzles and in life.

The daily ritual and resoluteness for completing the larger puzzles remind me of the importance of just doing the next thing. It may not be flashy, progress may seem minuscule, but learning to faithfully show up patiently and dutifully is a lesson that is rarely learned through something so lovely.

Then, we come to the last piece of the puzzle – the most sacred of pieces. Everyone jokes about how they will sweep in and put in the last piece – usually the ones who have only helped place four of the pieces and then abandon the project for more exciting things. I was very honored when one son, who stuck with me the longest on this journey, quietly held the last couple of pieces and then handed me the last one – the keystone – to place in the last hole. No ceremony or regalia, just a knowing look that we stuck it out. Things we could not see as we worked through the jigsawed pieces now became visible and obvious. “Why did that piece not really fit there? How did I miss placing this one here?!” There is a quiet emotion resonating through me as we look at the whole picture. A bit like our lives, a whisper calls to our hearts of longing for wholeness and searching our entire lives for it.

At last, it is time to consider when it is appropriate to tear apart the puzzle and put it away. I have heard nasty rumors of families who, upon completing, have a family member who rips the puzzle off the table in a grand gesture. I guess that is like ripping off the band-aid. I suppose the lesson for those of us who do not glue and frame our puzzles is that we can be okay when meaningful things are taken apart. It does not mean our time has been wasted. We have learned something long-lasting in the process.

Time start a new puzzle…

Ashlie Miller gets lost in puzzles in Concord, NC. You may email her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

By Ashlie Miller

We live in a time where every day on the calendar seems to be a “National ________ Day.” Many restaurants capitalize on the idea to sell more products: “Come get your deal on donuts on National Donut Day!” It should come as no surprise that there is a “National Quitters’ Day.” In case you missed it, you may have inadvertently celebrated it anyway. This year, it was Friday, January 9th, and it marked the time when many people have already given up on their New Year’s Resolution. To be fair, it does feel like we are already in spring, so maybe you feel like you are doing a better job keeping resolutions than you actually are.

According to Strava, a fitness app that tracks data of its users, a huge majority of people slow or halt their fitness goals by the second Friday of January. Motivation has gone out the window with the empty Krispy Kreme box.

While teaching my children science lessons recently, we were discussing the First Law of Thermodynamics (Conservation) – energy cannot be created or destroyed, only transformed from one form to another. The amount of energy is just there existing. We cannot get more out of it than what exists.

Unfortunately, this is true of motivation, as well. If we go into a plan or goal with a certain amount of energy and enthusiasm, it eventually runs out if we aren’t adding to it. That leads to exhaustion and eventually collapse (evidently in most cases by the second Friday of January).

What can sustain us? How do we continue doing what we should and quit the things that aren’t good for us?

Well, first, we can consider the difference between giving up on something because we are tired and turning away from things because we are being transformed. Transformation comes from repentance. Humans have never been great at self-help. It is an always-striving sort of position. We are miserable at transforming ourselves, because we only have so much energy. But our Creator is above and beyond us. He knows what makes us tick and what wears us down. He knows that the weight of sin is often the ball and chain that is keeping us burdened and incapable of saying “no” to things that ruin us. Repentance offers hope that the change we need is in the hands of someone better, working things for our good. The Holy Spirit transforms us from the inside out, but there is more!

Secondly, we can rejoice that God promises Christians new, daily mercy. We are going to fail because we live in a fallen world. As we make efforts to change and submit ourselves to the Holy Spirit, new mercies await us daily (see Lamentations 3:22-23). While we are instantly justified from an old man to a new man, the sanctifying transformation is a continuing journey of mercy and grace. When our will-power pops but then fizzles, mercy covers our faults, and grace brings us where we need to be but haven’t earned. Our grit is gone, but grace remains.

So, whether you choose freshly squeezed juice or strawberry ice cream (both share a national day) on January 15, and you get to the gym or binge on the couch, for the Christian, our hope remains in the perfect plan of God, the completed work of Christ, and the dwelling of the Holy Spirit all meeting us with new mercies each day.

Ashlie Miller resides in Concord, NC. You may email her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

By Ashlie Miller

2025 is barely in our rearview mirror, and I am pondering the phrase, “objects in mirror may be closer than they appear.” Events that seem like distant memories were really not that long ago. For some, they still feel very fresh. I consider a family acquaintance who lost everything they had over the summer – every necessity and luxury, as well as years of memories (handmade items from children, awards the parents earned in school, cherished ornaments, years of collecting rare and treasured books). All taken in a moment.

Then, during a milestone birthday celebration of a friend this year, I learned that one of her quirks (or maybe it should be called a strength) is letting go of greeting cards every year. Each year, she tosses all her cards when she receives a new one from the sender, freeing her of unnecessary clutter. The sentiment has been received and cherished, now onto the next year!

I, on the other hand, am a bit sentimental. I am certain that much of it has to do with losing a parent at a young age, as well as other relatives and friends in my childhood and young adult life. I sense that life is fleeting, that we should number not only our days, but the days we have with others. Gifts, cards, and token sentiments have always felt like tangible bits of that person. Losing things hurts me profoundly. Things getting tossed by others as they help to clean up around the house can set me on edge. Making decisions of when it’s ok to let go of an article of clothing or even a piece of folded paper and an envelope can be difficult. Yet, two ladies I know either had things taken or chose to toss the unnecessary and still experience God’s grace and sustenance.

So, the week after Christmas, I began in my closet, where so many of those paper reminders sit in boxes, and I tossed more than I kept. Truth be told, I had not revisited those cards, even the ones coming from those who mean the most. Of those that were tossed, the hardest were photo cards. It feels like throwing away someone’s existence! But with social media, it has become easier, because with a couple of clicks, I can access many of those photos through friends. Heartbreak met me, however, on the floor of the closet as I came across more than half a dozen families who are no longer together. Divorce, separation, death – all touched many families who will never again look like what I see in the photo.

Unlike the photos frozen in time, life has moved on. God has been faithful to hold them through the heartache. I encountered a lesson as I made more room on my closet shelves: can I trust that God is keeping every moment, every relationship I cherish, and even all my tears safely in His hand? The old Sunday school song echoes in my head, “He’s got the whole world in His hands!” Psalm 56:8 calls to my heart about God keeping count of my tossing and preserving my tears in a bottle, and like my own journal of memories, keeps a record of all these things.

So, yes, I can let go of some of these things, because He keeps them all more securely. Happy decluttering (and it’s ok to keep some of those things you haven’t looked at in ages).

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

By Ashlie Miller

Looking back at a year can be bittersweet, holding regrets and disappointment. We enter January with anticipation of a new start, a list of goals, and maybe even a punch list. Twelve months later, these goals are buried deep in our smartphone notes and reminders or literally under piles of papers. Where did I put that notebook I bought to keep a list and manage goals?

We did not schedule something with those friends we saw during the holidays of 2024 and longed to reconnect with this year. The project(s) around the house that we knew would increase the resale value or improve our daily life were neglected or too expensive because other things popped up. The decluttering plan we had, along with the new organizers for the closet or attic, was abandoned and (let’s be honest) is also probably buried under more clutter. Other life-giving goals for our health are still on a checklist to schedule, for maybe the 4th year in a row, and we know we aren’t getting any younger. The new hobby we wanted to attempt was trickier than we thought, and scrolling on the phone was far easier. All things that did not happen. It is enough to make one think, “Did another wasted year go by?”

But, for your consideration, what things did not happen in your life that actually contributed to a better year? What things did you fear, catastrophize, and become anxious about that did not end up nearly as you anticipated – an encounter, a confrontation, an interview? Were there events that you missed, sadly, because of sickness or other cancellations, that either gave you some much-needed rest time or enabled you to enjoy something else? Did any relationships change as perhaps children move out, friends move away, or even the passing of a loved one that caused you to reinvest in family or friendships differently?

Then there are things that took us down different journeys or kept us from other endeavors. Maybe you went to the doctor for one thing, but it led to a discovery that otherwise would not have been immediately recognized. You did not want bad news; you wanted good health, but this discovery is helping you get to that path of wellness. Or perhaps you remember the day you just couldn’t get it all together before you headed out the door to your destination. One thing after another was going wrong; things were misplaced, you spilled hot coffee, and the baby, of course, had a blowout as you were putting him into his car seat. But as you hit the highway or made your way across the intersection, you looked to the side of the road and saw the car that could have easily been yours smashed and ruined. Maybe you passionately longed for a reassignment at your job because the other option looked like it checked all the boxes, but you were passed over for it. Come to find out, that option would have been the wrong option for you. God’s “no” was for your good.

Yes, counting our blessings is a wonderful way to cap off the year. Maybe we get stuck on finding positives. When we struggle to think of the things we are thankful for in a difficult year, maybe a lean year, we can likely look back at the things that did not happen. They were not losses. They were not necessarily negatives. They were withholdings that brought peace, stillness, refocus, contentment, protection, and wellness. Glory be to God!

Ashlie Miller lives in Concord, NC with her biggest blessings. You may share yours with her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

By Ashlie Miller

I remember when our first Christmas ornament broke. Literally, the first ornament my husband and I received. It was either for our wedding or at Christmas, and I think my mom purchased it from a lady who was just beginning a business with painting doodle characters on ornaments and personalizing them. It was cute, and many families in our area had them. You may even have a very similar adornment on your tree today.

During the early years of our marriage, we had survived a stage 3 cancer, rocky finances (thanks in part to bills for experimental treatment not covered by insurance but effective nonetheless), and learning to communicate as a couple. We were fragile. Things felt unsteady at times. And then, the ornament – a symbol of our covenant – was broken. It hit me like, well, a ton of bricks on a glass ornament! I was certainly more emotional over evergreen decor than seemed normal, but we did not replace the shattered bauble. I learned to move on with life and realize that our marriage was much more secure than a temporal symbol.

Since then, we have had many broken ornaments. So many that we have an annual ornament hospital bin that gets attention either by me or my go-to fixer (my middle son). Usually, the ornament is salvageable with a bit of super glue or E-6000 glue. We no longer buy glass ornaments that shatter.

Many other broken things come to the surface during the holidays. No doubt, you have your own sense of woe and sadness. Cherished loved ones who have passed. Estranged relationships. Boundaries of time and distance that create difficulty in connecting with family relationships; one cannot be two places at once, and has to make a choice. Loss in other ways – jobs, health, stability in some way.

In another week, those who do not know the joy and stillness of the 12 days of Christmas leading to Epiphany will begin to experience longing, sadness, and depression as things come to an end. The gifts are given, the gatherings cease for another year, and a bleak and weary winter seems to loom (despite the sunshine on Christmas Day). Even my youngest children talk of post-Christmas blues.

Christmas is a season of hope, long after the joy has passed. Jesus appeared in a broken-down stable in a manger to one day restore the broken relationships each of us has with God. O Holy Night is a song worth revisiting, with stars (special for this momentous occasion) shining brightly amidst a world riddled with a history of “sin and error pining” since Adam and Eve’s exodus from Eden. But then, Jesus “appeared and the soul felt its worth.” Wow, “felt its worth” – do we really? The Glory of heaven left that perfect place to come redeem and restore our relationship with God. He loves us that deeply. This should do something for our identity and sense of worth. The “thrill of hope” that we no longer have to live in our brokenness can lead to our own “weary world rejoicing!”

This week, you may have more gatherings that remind you of loss and brokenness. It can take one’s breath away and even make us unable to speak or fully engage as we may have done at one time. You may have to celebrate in solitude, where once there was a houseful of celebration. But one thing has not changed: there is still a “thrill of hope” within our grasp if we can see it. Embrace that, even if quietly, amidst the broken ornaments.

By Ashlie Miller

When my husband and I were first married, it was very different from the advice given today before marriage: “Have all your ducks in a row, finish college, establish a stable career, have no or little debt, and maybe one of you should already have a house.” No, we barely had two nickels to rub together! But we had love and a covenant of faithfulness, and that was enough. But love and covenant don’t always leave room in the budget for extras, and our first few Christmases together were tight. Buying a tree to decorate for a few weeks was out of the question. Still, we managed a tabletop metal ornamental tree that we still have, with a few special ornaments we liked.

As I mentioned before, we gift a special ornament to each child around Christmastime. They will have a little start for their own trees one day. Over the years, I, too, have collected favorite ornaments for myself. I began to notice a pattern in what I acquired – wooden, maybe metal, mostly nativities or characters from the nativity, globes, stars, and sometimes those reflecting our own travels or vacations. Some were gifted by family or friends who share my affection for nativities and Christ-centered decor. Others were snagged during after-Christmas clearance days at Hobby Lobby. Several ornaments made their way to our tree through visits to The Cove in Asheville, the Billy Graham Library, or while serving at Operation Christmas Child.

Although I did not set out to have a themed tree, these items adorn the main tree in our living room as a gospel testimony, and it has taken a lifetime to decorate, patiently accumulating the collection. It is fitting, really, when you consider what this season – no, what this life – is all about. This tree reflects a promise and prophecies thousands of years in the making. It was a plan established before the dawn of time as we all know it. A promise that God would fulfill to make a way for all people to have access to God through His most precious gift – His Son, who was already truly God and would step down from heaven to become truly man.

While many argue over whether or not a Christmas tree (or Christmas in general) is pagan, the glow of my tree, adjacent to the glow of my gas logs, radiates a daily reminder of Christ’s amazing sacrifice of leaving the glory of heaven and taking the form of lowly humanity. What a brilliant way to begin quiet time with a hot cup of tea and an open Bible alive with the fulfilled prophecies of the Advent of the first coming of Jesus to earth! It is no wonder that many of us experience January blues after putting away such symbols of God’s faithfulness to His covenant.

How does your Christmas decor speak hope and faithfulness to you or to others? Slow down and make time to soak in or share the message of the Advent season through the gifts that something as simple as your Christmas tree. And keep your eye out for a humble nativity to adorn its branches.

Ashlie Miller and her family deck the halls in Concord, NC. You may email her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

By Ashlie Miller

The Thanksgiving sandwich. It is legendary, at least at my house. Maybe it is a shepherd’s pie, a casserole, a chili, or a stew at yours. After all those hours and days of work, who wants to see any of that effort go to waste? Those who know me well know that I can make whole new recipes from a couple of leftover meals. Those veggies will become a broth in a couple of weeks! Last night’s take-out will be breakfast once I put an over-medium egg on top of it! A Thanksgiving breakfast hash with an egg on top is a thing of beauty. 

It is not only comforting to me to reuse leftovers, but it feels rewarding to keep things out of the trash. Everything can be useful; nothing is wasted. To others, leftovers stay in the fridge until a layer of penicillin grows, with no desire to revisit that meal. I think it is all in the presentation, myself, whether leftovers are nourishing or feel like nothing special.

I am thankful God does not waste anything. Because He is sovereign, even the wrong turns we take on the path, the losses, and disappointments He redeems and uses in His own way to bring glory to His name (and He has many – Redeemer, Provider, Restorer, Healer, to name a few). 

It does not always feel true during the roughest seasons of our lives. Unlike the delight of enjoying the smoked turkey that my friend spent half an evening and morning preparing for us to enjoy, going through trials often leaves us wanting. Maybe we have invested time into something or someone and see no harvest, or worse yet, a devastating loss – a job position we did not receive, a relationship that failed, a child who rejects parental love.  Maybe it was willfully sinning and making decisions that not only lead to regrets but a life that is forever altered. 

But with God, that is not the end of the story. Sometimes we see a reversal that we had faith to believe would happen because we know God completes what He begins. Maybe we see the door God opened up because one was allowed to close. A relationship may have a more loving ending than it appeared possible several years ago. Or, we may not see on this side of heaven a complete restoration of losses, but heavenly glory awaits those who know Jesus as Savior. What a glorious thought!

God gives abundant grace! He knows our frame is but dust (fragile). While simple leftovers from the Lord would be more than sufficient, and He does not waste anything, the wonderful thing about God is that He has new mercies daily. That’s far better than anything we could warm over and present afresh. Better than simply making the best of things. 

Now, don’t mind me, I still have some breakfast hash with sweet potatoes and Brussel sprouts and a couple of Thanksgiving sandwiches to assemble this weekend. 

By Ashlie Miller

I’m embarrassed to admit it, but there was a time when I did not express gratitude as I should. It was not because we were lower middle class (or were we upper lower class?) and did not have many possessions. We had what we needed plus a little, and even a poor church mouse can be cheery and worship with gratitude. Although we often look down upon the youth of today and their sense of entitlement, I think there were plenty of us who took things for granted – that what we needed or desired would be provided. Full stop. 

Thankfully, some mentors in my life who bore with me – a teenager with 90s angst – continued to pour into me, treating me to meals, unexpected shopping trips, or other times together. When one young mom took me for an afternoon treat, I remember it was not until after I had made it back home that I realized I had not even thanked her for making time for me. Gratitude is like a muscle to work. When we do not practice it, it atrophies. Though I had learned to worship God in the church, I had not exercised gratitude in the marketplace and in my daily life. I was really weak in that area. Thankfully, that moment became a turning point. 

Fast forward – for years, my mother had inexpensive, vinyl tablecloths adorning her Thanksgiving tables along with Sharpies for guests to write notes of their reflections on the last year and why they were thankful this year. We can see the progress over time of grandchildren and the seasons of life of each family unit. Hand-tracings, sometimes shaped into a turkey, represent the hands that are too little to write. There are notes from those who were guests that year, many of whom have now passed away, making the $5 tablecloth invaluable. 

You may have your own gratitude tradition – a decorative stick tree with paper leaves marking thanks; a journal filled in by family members; social media posts expressing reflections throughout the month; circling the room to share testimonies. It can also be much more subdued, with taking a moment for one person to say grace while looking back at what the family as a whole has come through that year. 

As previously mentioned, five different Thanksgiving gatherings await my family this year. As a Christian, I am aware that Sundays are not the only day to worship. Nor is Thanksgiving the only special day for expressing gratitude, but intentional gatherings marked by thanks can effectively set us up for a rhythm of offering praise to our Provider. 

My youngest child often loves to end a meal with a gratitude game we play. He delights in getting it out for us. I am sure part of it is childlike delight in playing a game with the family, but the result is practicing praise. If gratitude is a muscle to exercise, I am excited to see how strong my children could be if they continue to work this routine of thankfulness. 

You may be approaching the coming week as just another full week of gatherings. That could be all it is for you. The idea of exercising anything in a week of total consumption is not inviting. What if you practice exercising your gratitude before your gatherings? What difference could what you give (thanks) make in your personal takeaway for the holiday ?