Ashlie Miller

By Ashlie Miller

For those of us who lived close enough to spend a week or two with grandparents during the summer, the season is a time for being spoiled. But I wonder if you were spoiled the same way I was.

I remember very hot summers at my grandparents’ house on Sam Wilson Road in west Charlotte. The Price Is Right would be our morning TV time. Then, Grandmother would prepare lunch while her soaps or WBTV news was on the screen. Afterwards, my younger brother and I would find something to occupy ourselves with. Oddly, that rarely involved toys. We might venture off to the screened-in porch to hide under a table during a summer thunderstorm. I can smell that Southern summer rain scent even now. You know, the kind that comes after one of our hot, dry spells?

Evenings meant a good, straight-from-the-garden meal with Grandmother’s signature thin biscuits, which I still have not perfectly replicated. Tomatoes and cucumbers from the garden would make an appearance, and usually some good fried okra. If we were fortunate, a bird’s nest of mashed potatoes and peas would grace our plate. But chicken and dumplings were the real star of the show for me.

Speaking of the garden, there was always time to snap peas or shuck corn. I do not recall complaining about how hot it was when we did these things. Maybe because soon after, there would be a refreshing watermelon (spitting those black seeds or scraping them out with a dull knife was an art form) or some of their homemade ice cream. I am still not sure if I liked the peach or the strawberry best. Or maybe it was banana? 

Sometimes, Granddaddy or Uncle Bill would bring the biggest bag of buttered popcorn we had ever seen. Would we be able to finish it before we went back home?

At some point in the day, Granddaddy (or even Grandmother!) would pitch a ball to a little tomboy or her brother to smack into the yard. Sometimes we would play rolly bat – a game that I only remember playing with my grandparents and cousins. It was my Granddaddy who taught me to ride my bicycle a summer after my father died. Other entertainment would include rides in an oversized wheelbarrow. My brother and I always thought that was the best ride anyone could dream up. Did any other kids have such adventures?

My grandparents spoiled us, not by taking us to places that centered around us, nor buying things to occupy our time, or even in letting us choose what shows to watch. They spoiled us for anything else matching or exceeding those memories. The best we can do now is try to recreate something as special as that. Excuse me, I’m off to help my daughter make dumplings for lunch.

Ashlie Miller spent many early summers in Charlotte, NC. She and her husband raised their family in Rowan County and currently Cabarrus County. You may email her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

By Ashlie Miller

When it comes to watching movies or reading books, there are generally two types of people: those who rewatch or reread, and (so, I’ve heard) those who don’t. I wonder if the latter group is also the sort who won’t eat leftovers – but I’ll save that for another day. 

As you may have guessed, I am in the first camp. A glance at my Prime account would reveal that I am most willing to rewatch something, particularly shows from before this century. If a show or movie pops up in my “rewatch” section, I will probably choose that rather than any original programming from a streaming platform. 

I like comfort, but more than that, I enjoy revisiting and rediscovering characters and plots. Last week, on a particularly hot afternoon, we rewatched a movie that felt like summer:  Because of Winn-Dixie. 

While I am familiar with the movie – we own a copy –  I was not prepared for the emotions it stirred in me. How many years had passed since I last saw it? Four, five, maybe more. A lot of life has happened. I connect differently with the story. Had I not been watching with my two youngest children, I could easily have released the dam of emotions waiting to flood my eyeballs. But, had I surrendered even a trickle, I doubt I would have quickly recovered. 

Isn’t it funny how something you already know can hit differently later on? I have heard Christian songwriters share that songs they wrote 30 years ago minister to them in fresh ways now. You likely have songs like that too – part of the soundtrack of your life.

There is another familiar friend who continues to meet me where I am, time after time, revealing new things about me and about Himself. It is through the written Word of God. I am blessed to have been brought up in a culture that fostered a love for reading Scripture. My childhood pastor would challenge the congregation to read it personally. I wonder if he knew children like me were listening too. 

Each time I return to a familiar passage, the words in those pages meet me where I am. Some words that regularly minister continue to be like a familiar comfort meal. Other words, I barely noticed before, meet me fresh and anew. 

While I have other pieces of literature that I love to reread every few years, there are no other Inspired words that can offer me the love and compassion of a great Friend, Father, Creator, and Savior.

Yes, I like to rewatch and reread (and I also love good leftovers). In some cases, it is about revisiting and rediscovery, but when it comes to the Bible, it is a relationship that draws me back, time after time. 

By Ashlie Miller

I remember the excitement of sharing school yearbooks at the end of the school year. More often than not, someone would write, “Have a great summer! See you next year!” We were at the mercy of our working parents’ schedules, so we often wouldn’t see many of those friends until the next school year. But, when we did get to connect over the summer, what a great joy that was!

One does not have to be a student or a teacher (homeschool or brick-and-mortar) to relish summertime. From Memorial Day to Labor Day, the summer season offers a nice break in routines. There is a season for everything, as Ecclesiastes states. Summer is a wonderful time of year to have friends and neighbors over. The idea of sharing a summer meal together with outdoor entertainment – whether it be the pool, corn hole, frisbee, or a late-night outdoor movie on the sheet spread across a couple of trees – is too good to pass up. 

My husband and I have delighted in opening our home each week this summer to members/regular attendees of our church-plant congregation. We usually invite a couple of households to come share a meal, sit around the table, let the kids run all over the yard and cul-de-sac, and share our life stories along with our hopes and dreams. We ask questions like: tell us about your journey to Jesus, what special gifts has God given you to build His Kingdom, what are you excited about being able to do for others as you share the hope we have? The answers have been riveting at times. As one older gentleman shared a gripping testimony of repentance and forgiveness, my youngest son (7) proclaimed quietly to me as he grabbed a seat on the bench beside me, “Oh, I’m here for this!”

It reminds me of sitting around summer campfires with other families in my youth, listening to them not only share the hilarity of stories we had all heard before, but also conveying the goodness of our great God in their lives as they recounted special church services or making it through difficult times together. 

Summer is also a time to have cousins over for special adventures. Laughing at inside jokes or sharing a little harmless mischief. It’s also the season to invite friends to the pool for a play date, meet up with that long-time companion you always mean to catch up with, and pick the brain of an acquaintance with some experience or insight into something you are exploring. 

Our church visits parks after church on some Sunday evenings in the summer. We play and share together, but we also invite others from the community to join our fun. Sometimes it ends in a gospel conversation, and other times it is simply sharing a good time. 

Monthly Sunday potlucks continue in the summer, but people linger a little longer as the sun prolongs our days. It can sometimes be as leisurely as seeing Andy Taylor, Barney, and Aunt Bee sitting on the porch on a Sunday afternoon.

Yes, the reality of Acts 2:46 looks a particular kind of way in the summertime – “And day by day, attending the temple together and breaking bread in their homes, they received their food with glad and generous hearts.” Don’t we love it?

Maybe for your family, friends, and community connections, it looks like family reunions, big family vacations, attending parades, festivals, and fairs, camping trips (mountains or beach), participating in summer sports leagues, block parties, volunteer opportunities, or enjoying outdoor movie nights. It could be planned weeks ahead or spontaneously thrown together. 

The calendar is a little different. There is a respite if we do not overschedule, but there is also ample time to prioritize those friends and neighbors whom we get too busy to see at other times of the year. 

Don’t wait to see if your friends had a great summer. Spend some time together to make it a great summer.

Ashlie Miller is wife to Chad Miller, pastor of Mission Bible Church in the University City area of Charlotte. They raise their family in Concord, NC.

By Ashlie Miller

Along with many teens eligible for their driver’s license, my niece joined the queue the last week of June at the local DMV, which meant sitting in the sun for most of the day waiting for her scheduled turn. Why were so many teens (or their parents) eager to get their license before July 1? New NC insurance laws just expanded the inexperienced drivers’ surcharge from three years to eight years. 

At our home, as we celebrated our niece and cousin, we also discussed why we thought the stipulations had changed. What could studies have discovered as the potential cause for longer liability? My ten-year-old piped up – “Drivers are more distracted.” Nodding our heads in agreement, I asked, “What do you think is causing that more now than before?” “Phones!” she exclaimed. Indeed. Most family drives include teachable moments as we watch drivers regularly run red lights, cut off other cars, or seem oblivious to the presence of other drivers. More often than not, we can clearly see distracted drivers looking down at their smartphones.

Distractions are common today. But is this anything new? The Bible reveals many whom Satan attacked with weapons of mass distraction. He distracted Eve with questions about what is true. He helped her own imagination create false, destructive narratives. Today, we see many allowing their questions to take them not to a door of enlightenment but through an exit from the faith. Who do we take our questions to?

Satan knew that temptations could take the strong, mighty, and wise off course – Samson, King David, and King Solomon, for example. If the enemy knows where we are vulnerable, we must recognize our weaknesses and guard against temptation.

Martha was scolded by Jesus for being distracted by duty – serving Him, in fact – instead of worshiping Him. This weapon works covertly, almost like a double agent. We become busy or fail to say “no” to a good thing, all the while this weapon prevents us from engaging in the better thing – fully knowing and worshiping God. We can deflect this by making time to fellowship with God regularly. 

Even Peter began to drown in the waves that Christ had invited him to walk upon once he took his eyes off of Him to look at the circumstances surrounding him. This tactic pulls down many of us. The moment we take our eyes off Jesus, we are deafened by the noise and wind of our circumstances and become engulfed by it. We can safeguard against this by being thankful in all circumstances and trusting that God is good.

Nehemiah was different, however. While rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem, the opposition, Sanballat and Tobiah, unsuccessfully tried to distract Nehemiah with multiple taunts and plots. He was undeterred – he knew they were lying because he knew what was true, prayed to God, and created safeguards. We can wall against taunts and plots by regularly feasting on God’s Word (His truth rather than our truth), praying for protection, and practically setting safeguards. 

Warfare is raging. Weapons are flying. I am not immune, and neither are you. But we can be on guard. 

By Ashlie Miller

While mid-December through March is the peak season for tourists in Breckenridge, CO, due to winter sports, my husband and I are not your average tourists there. Give me mild temps in June with fewer people anywhere, and I’ll likely go. The breathtaking landscapes can keep one’s head turning around every bend – craggy cliffs of a mountain on one side, evergreen peaks on the next, and white-capped points straight ahead. Those are just sights from the main highways. Walking along trails or riding an e-bike provides more opportunities to pause and take in the grandeur of creation. 

While we were away on a pastors’ and wives’ retreat, I had one morning to myself to venture out while my pastor (my husband) was writing the week’s sermon. Selecting a trail was an overwhelming decision, so I opted for a bit of familiarity, choosing a walking trail well below the paved bike trail we had explored the day before. I thought I might find a nook and read my book. I wasn’t focused on where I would end up, so I just started walking. As I became engrossed in the saturation of color and texture on my walk, I just kept walking — and walking. No destination in mind at this point. I saw evidence of wildlife that I had just missed. Dandelions carpeted much of the way, leaving a golden pathway. I came to a part of the path carved out with stones as if beckoning me somewhere – is this leading me to The Shire? Surely, I wouldn’t be lucky enough. But the puffy white clouds against the perfect blue sky (I’m sure that was at least a Carolina blue) and the earthy tones of a bubbling brook and rocky path as the deciduous trees were beginning to wake up were all enough to nourish my soul that day. I did not need to know where the path would end.

I was grateful that my mind was uncluttered from the noise of worries and anxieties. For far too often, I have traveled down paths equally as lovely but no competition for the smog of fret that clouded my view. The walk that day, however, was filled with a beautiful, quiet conversation with my spirit. 

Earlier that morning, my friend Jill shared a similar feeling about our e-bike ride from one town to another. She noted a phrase that has been said before: “The journey is not more beautiful than the destination.” But we don’t always feel that way, do we? 

At an earlier time in my life, I would have argued that the destination was the best part. After all, I would have the opposite reaction to homesickness. I am not certain it was wanderlust, but surely it was close. 

But what makes a journey so beautiful? Is it the scenery? Maybe. Could it be the milder temps (at least in this case)? Quite possibly. I think it is the peace one carries. Peace makes it easier to see past the smog. And while we are at it, you do know that Peace is a Person? [His name is Jesus.] When you journey with the Peace Speaker, even a rough journey is graced with its own beauty. He speaks even in silent conversations. His presence alone is enough. 

I was blessed to have selected an easy, gorgeous trail to trek that day, but there is no guarantee that my or your next path will be so glorious. Will you be able to walk in and with Peace?

Ashlie Miller meanders on trails, greenways, sandy shores, and even just her own neighborhood in Concord. You may contact her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

By Ashlie Miller

Another Friday evening, and I think my Aunt Sandi is scouring the online and printed ads for yard sales in the area. She often hopes for a sale that will keep both her and her chauffeur-husband interested – they both are looking for different things. 

For many, hosting a yard sale is a daunting task because it means another d-word – decluttering! I had been wanting to purge our attic and some other storage areas for months, but with homeschooling as my priority, I had to put a yard sale on the back burner. Yet, I would often toss random things into piles, bins, or corners of the garage. Finally, the day came (actually, because I was desperate to purge, two days came!). I was one of the few who decided to try a Friday pre-sale. 

Unless having yard sales is regular supplemental income, many of us do not look forward to nor anticipate much from them. Other than looking for treasures myself at someone else’s yard sale, I don’t usually expect to unveil beauty in hosting one. But what special treasures we did uncover! We met new neighbors – or rather, new to us. In the hustle and bustle of life, it is common to go months or even years without meeting neighbors. We were able to bless others by charging pennies for items. However, some friends and loved ones generously supported our efforts by giving more than we cared to charge them: “It’s to help the kids because I know most of this will go to them.”

There were special finds that some were looking for specifically. What a joy to help them on their quest – shoes still in excellent condition but too quickly outgrown by our household; lovely outfits for the graduation of a loved one the next day; a cedar hope chest for a high schooler.

The showstopper ended up being a banged-up craft table covered in old, rusty tools. I priced them low because they just needed to go. Every man (and some children and women) slowed their pace as they approached that table. One gentleman said he liked the smell of those corroded tools because they reminded him of his grandpa and the home and tools he had to leave behind in pursuit of a better life. 

There were other memorable moments – a lady came looking for nothing in particular until she saw our table of free Bibles. She asked, “How much? My husband just came to Christ, and we were talking yesterday about trying to find him a Bible he could read and understand.” “Free,” my husband and I replied. She walked away with two versions her husband could read. She thought she came looking for someone else’s old treasures, but she walked away with something far more priceless. 

Even though we were decluttering the home in hopes of making a little money to redo the children’s rooms, bargaining with me was still pretty easy. My daughter was watching, unbeknownst to me, as I negotiated with a lady over some children’s clothes, finally giving her more than she could reasonably pay for so she could bless her grandchildren. “Momma, I saw what you did there. That was really nice,” my daughter observed. “Well, I think that was the true goal of all this, after all, wasn’t it?” I replied. 

At the end of those two hot days in May, I was blessed more than I could have blessed anyone else. My body was tired, and we certainly didn’t make nearly enough to redecorate the room of anyone’s dreams, but I walked away refreshed and rich in spirit. 

But make no mistake, I will not be hosting another yard sale anytime soon – it’s the hot, humid South, after all!

By Ashlie Miller

Weddings, graduations, early summer trips – so many things happen this time of year that Flag Day is often an afterthought. I’m speaking to myself here as much as anyone else. Sports fanaticism or celebration of other things has outpaced patriotism for many. Waving a flag outside one’s home may not be as common on your street as it was in a bygone era, or perhaps it is more common in your town but less so in the next town. 

The presence of any flag can still evoke strong emotions and opinions, both among those who hoist them and those who view them. The unfurled symbol can be pretty controversial. While many do not hesitate to plaster various stickers on a car to express their unsolicited opinions to the world, waving a flag from a home can be quite another matter. It serves as an identifier for a unified household, although many homes are divided. (Go by any house with alumni of rival colleges – you’ll see their “house divided” yard signs or banners!) 

Raising a flag over a residence communicates many things. In the days and lands of monarchs, the flag billowing above the castle would announce who was present or that royalty was in attendance. It could symbolize the castle’s owner or whether it is under the control of another country or government. When a castle is used as a military base, that branch of service may hoist its flag while in use. 

If you were to fly a flag declaring who or what is in residence, what would it look like? What would be the symbol?

There is an old praise song that many children used to sing: “Joy is the flag flown high from the castle of my heart showing the King is in residence there. Let it fly in the sky; let the whole world know that the King is in residence there.” Psalm 20:5 comes to mind as God’s people shout for joy over His victory, raising high their banner. Joy – what a great flag to unfurl!

Do others see joy exuding from me?

The “she” in Song of Solomon 2 speaks of the banner of love her lover has for her. That recalls to mind another song I learned as a child – “His Banner Over Me Is Love” – “He brought me to his banqueting table, His banner over me is love.” 

Can others tell that I know I am loved by the Lord, and do I share that they are, too?

Maybe the flag that flutters sends out a more distressing cry – someone or something else is in charge or has invaded. Perhaps a white flag signals surrender because we have been in over our heads for far too long. How did we let something else take control of our hearts? Did we surrender to it? These flags we fly are a disgrace to us personally or to our testimony of professing to believe in Christ as our all-powerful Savior. 

In a quick search for Flag Day events, I did not find many. Perhaps they were a more common event at another time. I did find opportunities to retire old, worn-out flags so that they would not be a disgrace to our country. For some of us, some flags have been flapping for too long. It is time to retire the banner and hoist another flag, indicating a new ruler. Happy Flag Day!

By Ashlie Miller

I read a rumor several weeks ago, when school was still in session, that some stores – which will remain nameless – were already displaying back-to-school items. In exasperation, more than one mother cried foul, “Can we just wait a few weeks until the kids are at least out of school before having to think about next school year?!”

It is an illustration of how hurried our lives are. Always rushing to, planning for, or worrying about the next thing, we feel pushed through our present moment and miss the opportunity to marinate in it and enjoy it. Even if we did not have the distractions of our electronic devices sucking our ability to be present, today’s summers are already jam-packed with busyness. 

In mom groups online, the number one question you will read is, “Help a momma out! Please comment with all the activities, VBS, and camps that we can plug into this summer!” New toys, supplemental curriculum, and a planner to fill every waking hour with activities in hopes that those become lasting memories all tempt us. The intention is likely good – to make the most of the time off together – but could we be robbing ourselves and our families of something else?

Sometimes, we need a reminder of wonder always happening around us. My younger children, in particular, enjoy wondering as we wander. Spring and summer provide many opportunities to experience that. One day in particular, my children and I discovered a toad under the strawberry bush from which we were picking that morning; then, a bee lit on a flower right there to gather its precious nectar. Listening to nature’s ongoing symphony around us, we identified a mockingbird and a red-tailed hawk by their distinctive songs and screeches. 

Later that evening, on a walk after supper, my youngest spied another hawk on a fence post, perhaps eyeing his next catch. As my husband and I sat on our front porch, our eyes were dazzled by the relaxing dance of the wind as it blew through the leaves of the trees towering above our neighbors’ roofs, filling the air with the fragrance of daylilies and gardenias.

But most wonderful throughout the day was watching my little image-bearers displaying the creativity and playfulness of their heavenly Father. They made books from printer paper or worked on larger stories on the computer. Some played out stories in their rooms with their favorite stuffed animals or built little worlds with blocks. In the cooler evening, some played pickleball, frisbee, and sword fighting in the cul-de-sac while others cozied up to read on the porch. No agenda. There was plenty of time to be bored, which meant plenty of time to explore their imaginations. My thoughtful daughter even thanked me later for letting her have time to be creative and even bored.

What a time to be delighted by the majesty of a glorious Creator who paints in tiny, miraculous, everyday things like toads and bumblebees. What a magnificent gift of a season to slow down, breathe, and not have the next week thoroughly planned. Oh, we will still participate in camps, VBS, and other activities, but the pursuit of boredom and wandering wonder is what I hope will drive us. We mean well. We want to redeem the summer, the time we miss together throughout the rest of the year. But is busyness the only answer? So, before we all buy our back-to-school items and fill our summer agendas, let’s take a moment to take a deep breath and reconsider soaking in the new season. 

By Ashlie Miller

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

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

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

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

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

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

By Ashlie Miller

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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