Ashlie Miller

By Ashlie Miller

Divorce, death of a loved one, relocation, and having to work on holidays. Many seasons of life can transform holiday gatherings. I remember as young parents, the logistical gymnastics it took to get three boys ages five and under to multiple Thanksgiving dinners. His dad’s side, his mom’s side, my side, usually within about 24-36 hours! I often stressed at the thought of making it to each place intact with any amount of appetite left to receive the endeavors of the cook graciously. Then, there was balancing multiple plates while discouraging little hands from touching all the biscuits and rolls (because, let’s face it, that is all they wanted, regardless of how much effort went into the turkey and dressing). Don’t even get me started on getting through it all with no naps. But over the years, due to changes in the seasons of life, gatherings may be fewer in attendance, and some have even completely dissolved over time (who wants to take over hosting now that Grandma has passed?). 

Time brings more transitions, and again, we find ourselves with multiple gatherings to attend. This year is probably record-setting for us with five: a Friendsgiving begins our festivities, followed by three consecutive family gatherings, and topped off by a church family celebration. I no longer have to balance multiple plates, and the loss of loved ones over the years brings a new appreciation for the numerous gatherings, even if my introverted spirit will need a week to recover afterwards. 

“Won’t you get tired of the same meal repeated five times?!” you may be asking. Actually, a traditional Thanksgiving meal is probably my favorite menu. Yes, each of the gatherings will likely have several vegetable sides (both green and starches like sweet potato casserole), stuffing or dressing (there is a difference, and I prefer the latter if given the choice), rolls, a turkey, of course, a few other miscellaneous sides, and a full dessert table (which, depending on the household, may include sweet potato casserole if not considered a vegetable). 

You likely have similar tables and multiple gatherings, but that is where the similarities in the gatherings end. The reflections of gratitude, abundance, and grace will vary at each location. One place may be filled with fun and games, laughter, and the joy of the time together, unwinding with the people you feel most comfortable with. Though gratitude is not expressed in words, there is a common understanding of what you have been through together. Another stop may reflect getting through tough times – want and need, loss of various kinds, working through grief or other sorrow. It may be quieter and more awkward, but a different measure of grace is present. You may be blessed with a gathering that is straightforward and intentional with expressing praise to the Creator and Provider through testimony, writing it out on a placemat or leaves for a gratitude tree, or casually sharing stories of sustenance over the past year. Not every place is easy, though, is it? You may be gathering where the focus is the meal, not the people, nor the Great Provider. Tensions are strained. You wonder why you even show up. Perhaps the grace is what comes after leaving and realizing the gift of the solace, though imperfect it may be, of the home you have built away from where you grew up.

I’m not sure how many feasts are on your schedule. Whether you approach them with reluctance or with eagerness, there is room for grace and gratitude in as much variety as the sides that accompany the turkey. Just be looking for it. 

Ashlie Miller will be giving thanks in Cabarrus and Rowan County. Nothing could be finer! You may contact her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

By Ashlie Miller

Walking to the mailbox once was a thing of expectant joy that maybe this will be the day I receive something lovely. Not a bill, junk mail, an HOA note stuck to the flag, not a solicitation – a note from a friend. The closest thing most of us see to that is a text from out of the blue, and those are welcome, too. But, a couple of times a year for easily a decade, maybe longer, the reward for a short walk to the mailbox has been a card from a lady named Trudy who sends us cards with a handwritten note of thoughtfulness. We are not special, but Trudy is – I know many benefit from her personal card encouragement ministry. 

Unlike a text, cards not only give me an initial moment to pause, but, for as long as it adorns the table, there are further moments of gratitude for the thoughtfulness behind the card-giver.

It is a given that November is a month to pause for gratitude. Of course, there is the holiday of Thanksgiving, which often prompts us to look for daily devotions or even to make gratitude posts on social media. We also have Veterans’ Day – a time to properly acknowledge those still among us who have given much of their life to serve and sacrifice on our behalf. 

I cannot think of a better position to be in than that of a heart of gratitude before entering a season of giving and receiving, acknowledging the past blessings before looking to the future blessings. We already know that thankful, content people are some of the happiest people, and I’m willing to bet they are also some of the most cheerful givers and appreciative receivers when December comes around. 

While we do make efforts in our home to be intentional to send out thank you cards for specific moments in life, I could do a better job modeling everyday gratitude that extends beyond a quick thank you text. There is something special, intentional, and sacred about sitting down to write in a card I either have on hand or go out to purchase, finding an address and a stamp (which may still have last year’s holiday theme on it), and placing it in my mailbox with the flag up. When I receive a handwritten note, I realize that someone else has thoughtfully gone through the same process. 

The coming 7 weeks or so are already overscheduled. We all agree that we are too busy. It is a setup for anxiety, frustration, and maybe even a desire to hurry up and get through it. Asking to have a good attitude through it, never mind a cheerful one, may seem like too much to ask. But maybe taking time to share gratitude for someone in our lives intentionally could help change the way we enter another hectic end to another year that flew by too quickly.

I would guess that our friend Trudy has a pretty merry holiday season. Thanks, Trudy, for being such an encouragement to so many. 

Pardon me for being in a hurry, I’m off to pick up some thank-you cards.

By Ashlie Miller

The past week, with all its dreariness, sogginess, and chill, either set you up to feel cozy and restful or possibly miserable, and dare I say depressed? Our first home was in Landis, a cozy little house in a cozy little town. However, the few small windows where the sun would shine through were not enough to overcome gloomy days for me. There were other issues, I am sure that accompanied that – a husband whose role at his job began to require lots of travel while I was home with three small boys under the age of 5. 

I dreaded the time change because there would be less sun, less time to get them all outside, and let their energy loose. Can’t we just have springs and summers? And why these semi-annual time changes? I thought they were going to end that! 

Where would we be without these seasonal changes? Not necessarily the time changes (which most people question), but actual seasonal changes, including the dark, slow, cold ones. 

One does not have to be acquainted with agrarian life to understand that cycles are life: transformation, growth, dormancy, buds, flowers, fruit, seed. Even the animals take note of what each season offers them: mating, eggs and hatchlings, migration, metamorphosis, gathering, and hibernation. 

As the most unique of all creation, and those ordained to rule over all of the rest of creation, sometimes, as humans, we push ourselves to carry on through each season with no lull in tempo. That can be true in the literal astronomical seasons and in the seasons of life. For some, it is hard to imagine or purposely plan a season of rest when there is always so much to do. Besides, hard work is rewarding! Others who regularly enjoy a life of – well, let me put it nicely – leisure, may view entering a season of hard work and growth as a traumatic life experience.

God gave us equinoxes and solstices for the good of the land and its inhabitants. How could we make the most of more time inside – more rest and solitude, time to take up new hobbies or finish household projects, time for reflection, for example?

Likewise, God gave us seasons of life – plenty or lacking, health or illness, riches or poverty, ease or struggle, to name a few. How can we lean into the gifts and grace of those seasons that the Creator has already provided and appointed?

We are in the middle of the fall season, the beginning of shorter days, and approaching an even colder, bleaker season. Our personal lives in general may be in a season of energy and joy or exhaustion and sadness. How can we take stock of those intervals and receive the gift that is already afforded? 

It takes time, awareness, and intentionality, but the rewards can be sweet in their own ways. 

Ashlie Miller hopes to read more books, improve in a new hobby, and finally get the attic better organized in the coming months. You may share your plans with her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

By Ashlie Miller

Looking at my social media scroll this week,  I wouldn’t have thought there would be so much talk about monarchy – kings or no kings, and crowns. Though no king or queen rules us, the idea of monarchy still captivates the thoughts of many – just ask any American anglophile the latest about the British monarchy.

It is a tale as old as time, almost quite literally. In the Old Testament, we see a chosen people led by a theocracy – by God alone. God sets His people apart, but they don’t like that. They want to be ruled by an earthly king. Though warned of the oppression it would bring upon the people, God allowed the prophet Samuel to make a king for them. Saul proved to be a miserable king. David, the man after God’s own heart, was imperfect – failing morally, as a parent, and as a leader. His son, Solomon, though credited as the wisest man to live, was only halfway committed to the ways of God. As promised, oppression and disaster ensued for the people of Israel. An earthly king may have been what they wanted, but it isn’t what they needed. 

If we are all honest, we all do want a king. We daily crown or dethrone people on social media. We either long for the Eternal King to make things right or fight to put ourselves on the throne of our hearts, ruling oftentimes defiantly against the order He established during Creation. One way or another, the fight for a monarchy is our life’s pursuit. 

Then, there is the pursuit of the crown itself. I am sure time (and a gripping Hollywood script) will tell us more about the Louvre heist of the crown jewels and how on earth they dropped the crown, but what a picture for how temporal even the greatest riches are. The race is on to recover the jewels before they are cut into smaller, less valuable pieces. 

Christ encourages us to lay up treasures that moth and rust can’t destroy, nor thieves can rob and steal (Matthew 6:19). Even if we guard our earthly treasures, we can’t take them with us (too late to ask the French queens) or ensure their protection after we are departed. The only lasting treasures are eternal endeavors, and a crown awaits the saints. How do we measure the value and permanence of such treasures?

What crowns are we chasing today? Sure, it may be superficial success, fleeting fame or influence, or a facade of eternal beauty and youth. Or it may be something more practical, like security, safety, control, and certainty. 

After my husband and I visited the Louvre in Paris, I read about the Mona Lisa and its fame. Before it was stolen in 1911, many would not have even been able to describe or pick out the Mona Lisa. More people visited the empty wall where the Mona Lisa once hung than came to see it in the years before. I remember seeing the French Crown Jewels in the Galarie d’Apollon with a smaller crowd than those getting selfies with Mona Lisa. I wonder, once the gallery reopens, how many will flock to see what is no longer there—fleeting riches. 

Will our hearts be empty cases of perishable riches or filled with treasure yet to be fully known? Who will wear the crown on the throne of our hearts? We get to decide. 

By Ashlie Miller

While many are trekking to farms to select the perfect pumpkin, my family was behind on getting to the apple orchard. As my husband puts it, “You don’t go to an apple orchard because you need apples. If you need apples, you go to the grocery store.” This excursion was to connect with our adult son in Western NC at a midway point where we could enjoy lots of time together for the day – Hendersonville, NC. 

Because it is nearing the end of the apple-picking season, we should have considered the scavenger hunt that lay ahead of us. For several rows, it was more like a search for one good apple. Fermented, rotting apples blanketed the ground beneath the trees. They were beauties from a distance. Bright reds and supple greens. But for human consumption, they were less than desirable – riddled with holes, yellow jackets, other bugs, and mushy. 

After hiking several rows back and moving toward the center of the rows, we victoriously discovered ripe apples in abundance on the trees. It took no time for a family of 7 to fill up a bushel box. 

There are so many words to describe a delicious apple: crisp, tart or sweet, crunchy, juicy, delectable, rosy, or maybe golden, shiny, ripe. Those aren’t separate things, but multiple characteristics – each one as important as the other – of one fruit.

Such is the case with the fruit of the Spirit. Rather than some Christians having one variety of fruit and others having another, each should be growing in all aspects through their journey of sanctification. At first glance, Galatians 5:22-23 looks like a list of things a Christian should achieve by hard work. But another list, the works of the flesh in verses 19-21, are the exhausting works of sensuality, never bringing the satisfaction of the fruit that God brings forth in the life of a Christian believer. 

“Ah, but I know many nonChristians who display love, joy, patience, etc.” God, in His goodness, has given common grace to all humanity. After all, God made each of us in His image. Since He is a God of love, joy, patience, etc., it is only natural that His creation would display some of those qualities. But much like the rotting fruit on the ground, separated from the tree, those qualities eventually disintegrate. An earthly, temporal display of love and goodness is not the same as an enduring, eternal fruit of love and goodness. 

Further, when we focus on the fruit rather than God, we work by our own efforts to have something that resembles fruit. And that work leads to sins of debauchery and taking things into our own hands to manipulate what looks like love, joy, and goodness. In the upside-down world we manifest, that ends up looking like perversions of love, spiritual efforts that deny God’s authority, and a multitude of offenses in our relationship with others (again, see Galatians 5:19-21 for that list). 

Works of the flesh are exhausting and unfulfilling because it is a result of my own narcissism. It pretends to care about others, but really, it is an effort to heal myself or prove myself to others by my own efforts. Fruit is evidence of the submission of the work of the Holy Spirit when I focus on God first and then others. One of these things pretends to love others but idolizes self at the expense of others; the other is true selfless, sacrificial love that trusts God to provide all good things to and through us as His children.

By Ashlie Miller

“I’m very thankful for the wasp nests that were on our dryer vent,” my husband said at the dinner table this week as we all thought back on the busy week (and it was only Wednesday). We all nodded in agreement. We have something called a “graticube,” a wooden hexagonal cube with gratitude prompts to encourage positive family discussions gathered around the table. 

Earlier in the day, a dryer vent cleaner company inspected our vent system. Our biggest concern was the wasp nest we could see building just outside the attic. We noticed it at the end of last winter but were assured by others that the wasps likely died out and would not come back to this nest. However, we began noticing wasps again recently. 

After attempting to remedy this ourselves (thanks to Google and YouTube), we finally called in the professionals. We learned that our issue was bigger than wasp nests (yes, plural, they discovered). The central hose leading out evidently had not adequately been installed, then disconnected sometime since we moved in, resulting in a heavy dusting of – you guessed it – lint dust!

While we certainly were not delighted with the estimate for repair and cleanup, we understood why my husband was thankful for the wasp nests. They could have chosen any spot around our home and wooded back yard, but chose the one place that had a bigger issue that needed our attention.

It reminded me of Corrie ten Boom’s story about fleas. For those unfamiliar, her family, who were watchmakers, famously hid Jews in their home during the German occupation in the Netherlands to protect them from arrest and being sent to prison and concentration camps. Eventually, Corrie’s family, including her sister Betsie, was sent to Ravensbrücke – a concentration camp with filthy, overcrowded barracks. Things were very bleak, but the sisters secretly shared portions of the Bible with their many bunkmates, an act and book completely forbidden. Still, finding things to offer praise and gratitude for was minimal.

In the midst of their intense suffering, Betsie reminded her sister that they should be grateful in all circumstances, a challenge Corrie found impossible with the brutality of the soldiers, worse than poor living conditions, and the bleakness of the situation that offered no hope. Corrie reminded her sister that even their mattresses were full of fleas and lice. “I simply cannot be grateful for fleas and lice,” she said. Betsie responded, “But you must.” A short time later, they learned that the reason the guards never visited their overcrowded room was that they were disgusted by the prospect of catching lice or fleas. Who knows how many women received hope and encouragement through the gospel because of this blessed misfortune? 

So, there’s a challenge for the coming week – what minor annoyance (in the grand scheme of things) actually was for your good or a blessing to others? Can you see where God permitted things that are ultimately results of our broken and fallen world to draw your attention to bigger issues or a greater blessing? 

Ashlie Miller counts her wasps, er, blessings with her family in Concord, NC. You may email her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

By Ashlie Miller

            Have you ever had a life-changing conversation? Many are engaging in both public and private discussions – looking for clarity, challenging others, or wrestling with unanswered questions. Often, clarity come when someone takes the time to journey with us and our questions.

            “Now an angel of the Lord said to Philip, ‘Rise and go toward the south….go over and join this chariot’” (read Acts 8:26-50). And so, Philip leaves a thriving ministry in Jerusalem to follow where the Holy Spirit’s leading – to share the gospel with an Ethiopian eunuch in the desert near Gaza. This story that both fascinates and helped propel me into Christian ministry. I must confess, there was a season in my youth when I assumed the role of a Philip in the life of a young believer. 

            It is part of our Christian life in the God’s family to share what we’ve come to understand and to help others to deepen their understanding their walk with Christ. Paul instructs Thessalonians Christians to admonish the idle, encourage the fainthearted, and strengthen the weak, all in patience (1 Thessalonians 5:14). It’s not hard to see the need to fulfill these biblically assigned roles.

            However, in my eagerness, I sometimes assumed my job was to teach, redirect, or encourage. Thankfully, not long after I first attached myself to this verse, I found myself in the other seat of the chariot – the seat we see occupied by the Ethiopian eunuch. Receiving truth and understanding why I believe what I believe became of great importance, particularly in my 20s. Having a teachable spirit to the unwavering, unchanging truth has kept me grounded. Though I long to follow the direction that leads me to help others know the truth (not my truth, the Truth), I’m also grateful when someone climbs into my chariot to encourage me and remind me of God’s thoughts towards me.

            The Ethiopian here was reading from Isaiah and had profound questions regarding the identity of whom the writer was described in Isaiah 53:7-8. Philip clearly gave the answer he was seeking. But I wonder what other questions were sealed for him, knowing he likely read the full scroll of Isaiah. Hold that thought. 

            This man was a eunuch, likely infertile – perhaps mourning the loss of family legacy as he submitted to his service to his queen. He was a also a Gentile – someone who was not a Jew, part of the chosen family of God. He was returning to his home of Ethiopia to serve Queen Candace after having spent time in Jerusalem worshiping God.

            As Philip explained the passage for which he had questions, did he have a profound “aha” moment – recalling other passages in Isaiah? Perhaps Isaiah 56:3–5, which promises eunuchs a legacy, or Isaiah 18, which speaks of Cush (his homeland) being welcomed into God’s family.

            How his heart must have overflowed, realizing that God saw him there in the desert and sent Philip to encourage him and lead him into a radical new life: one of hope, encouragement, joy! In fact, the Ethiopian was so overwhelmed by this transformative truth, he called out, “Look, there is water, what stops me from being baptized?” (Acts 8:36). 

            Consider your role in the chariot of life, particularly the Christian life. Is it time for you to step into someone else’s chariot to help them understand? Perhaps it is to encourage a young generation filled with many questions and inundated with wrong, very loud answers. Or maybe it is time to invite someone to climb into your chariot, ask them some questions, gain some clarity, and hopefully be refreshed by the joy of salvation as you learn that Someone sees you and cares enough to send another to journey with you for a bit.

By Ashlie Miller

“If you believe you’ve ever experienced a miracle, we invite you to click here and share your story with us.” Thus read the email from a ministry that I subscribe to. I knew what they were going for – a sensational moment where a supernatural event happened, maybe a healing or evidence of God intervening in a spectacular way. 

Though the word “miracle” can often be used too freely to explain some events, I do believe that we can encounter miracles every day. We may think of a reversal of events and situations when we think of miracles. If the biblical definition of a miracle is when a supernatural being (God) intervenes in an inexplicable way beyond natural phenomena, could we include radical reversals in that definition? 

I think we could, and I have witnessed numerous radical reversals in life, even though I cannot recall a specific healing event that I have seen. I remember a shy, grieving young girl who felt alone becoming a bold, passionate witness who feels loved and healed by a loving Father. I know a story of a boy hurt by divorce when he was young, without a model of a faithful husband and father, who became a man in love with a Savior who transformed him into a man who would be a godly husband and dad. There’s a story about a boy also hurt by grief who turned to vices that threatened to drag him down into a life of loneliness and misery, but surrendered to a Rescuer who brought him joy and a family. There’s a story of a young woman who was searching – everywhere – to find meaning and answers, and Someone found her and brought her peace beyond explanation. 

There are also the stories of those who joyfully found the Savior at young ages and instantly loved the comfort and peace and never looked back. Yes, these are salvation stories. They usually don’t fall under the category of what many would expect as a miracle. They do not seem sensational. Yet, if one were able to follow the potential trajectory of their lives without the power of the Holy Spirit, there would be no such radical transformation. 

Today, many are looking for a divine experience –  a miracle – to prove that God is real. “Just show me a miracle, and I will believe!” Perhaps the one who is witnessing their salvation story to you is the walking miracle you are looking for. How do they navigate hard times differently? Have you reconnected with a former schoolmate or coworker who went a very different route in a relationship with Jesus and now lives like a different person? 

Everyday miracles. Inexplicable things that would not have otherwise happened without the supernatural intervention. Have you witnessed a miracle?

Ashlie Miller is an everyday miracle and knows many. You can share your miracle story with her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

By Ashlie Miller

The month has been overshadowed by much tragedy – horrific headlines, violence, and the anniversary of 9/11. The door is widening for conversation among young people in particular, and the door is being pushed open to go back to church. 

I am hearing stories from Christian friends and neighbors of peers and family reaching out to them, asking to read the Bible or to have conversations with them, or even to say yes to visiting their church with them.

Some are hesitant because of past experiences or stories on how churches seem to be closed off and unwelcoming. I cannot speak to each of those testimonies or on behalf of those churches, even as a pastor’s wife myself. It is disheartening to say the least. But we cannot let those stories or even our experiences be the roadblock. There have been plenty of those in recent years. 

After nearly half a decade of checking out physically and only checking in virtually, people are looking to visit church for the first time or get back into actual community. If I were in a position of having to look for a church, here are some things I would consider: 

Expository preaching. In a world that continually extracts sound bites to post on our favorite platform, we know how drawn we are to sensational statements or parts of phrases to boost our case, or in the case of our heart, justify our actions. When studying larger passages, we can learn original intent, and what we observe about God and His character, humanity, sin, promises, and much more. I need more than a sermon that makes me walk away feeling good about myself; I need truth that is not going to be twisted based on who is using it. 

Pastors who see the kingdom of God beyond their facility and position. I would want a pastor who has encouraging connections with other churches and ministries, celebrating their work. Look how he disciples and equips his leadership team. What are the marks of kingdom work like: evangelism, international and domestic missions, and connecting with neighbors?

Fewer programs and more equipping. Before asking for suggestions of a church to visit and then requesting specific programs, consider reframing that to: How is the church equipping the congregation? Is it a community of hospitality? How are people being discipled toward growth, encouragement, and accountability? Do they excel in entertaining or equipping?

Reevaluating my preferences. If a church lacks a program I desire (children and youth ministry seem to rank as the top request, followed by lively music), what is it that they are really doing well? What are they investing in instead? How could God use a church quite different from what I want to cultivate maturity in my life?

And give each church a fair chance. It is amazing how we will subject ourselves to abuse of miserable service and experiences in almost any other area of life except the one that matters most. That is very telling, isn’t it?

Ashlie Miller is a pastor’s wife of a church plant in the University City area. You may contact her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

By Ashlie Miller

They say that rain on your wedding day is a good luck sign for a solid marriage. If that is the case, what does it mean when there is a large power outage during your wedding? That will be a follow-up question years from now for the bride and groom of the wedding my husband attended last weekend. 

It was an overcast day, but as we approached Mooresville, it was clear that rain would put a damper on the plans. I checked the wedding website, theknot.com, to see if there were alternate plans for the outdoor wedding on the greens of the golf course. Nothing was listed. Well, this could be interesting, I thought. 

Things were not looking up as we approached nonworking traffic lights, the closer we came to the venue. Very interesting, I thought. We pulled into the world-class golf club and walked with an umbrella over our heads in the slight drizzle to wait with no specific direction under the awnings of a building. Suddenly, “Okay, it’s happening, let’s go!” a photographer announced. Still unsure of where we were going, we walked towards an outdoor area, watching employees wipe down seats with pool towels. The fans and paper parasols intended for a hot late summer evening were only as much help as shielding from the slight drizzle. There was at last enough of a reprieve that a condensed – but still legal – wedding ceremony commenced. After the I do’s and a kiss, the happy couple bounded up the aisle, followed by a large ribbon of lightning across the horizon. Yet, no one bolted up the aisle. With joyful decorum, the wedding party exited up the aisle. 

I do not know how many of us were concerned over the reception menu as we waited for the wedding party. There were hors d’oeuvres, and people gathered to chat. One only noticed that it was dimly lit because there was still plenty of clouded daylight. We sat down at a table with candles that were now valued more for their functionality than their ambiance; the chandeliers only glistening thanks to these humble lights below. Caesar salad before me, glancing at the menu (filet mignon and chicken), I wondered how they were going to pull that off. Answer: They couldn’t. After the ceremonial dances, the father of the bride announced, “Things haven’t gone as planned, aren’t going as planned, and won’t go as planned.” With a smile, he hinted that he would know what’s for dinner at the same time we would. I began to hear whispers of “Chick-fil-a.” 

Surely enough, the servers brought CFA nuggets and what my refined French fry palate determined to be Wendy’s French fries (do any others stay so crispy upon delivery?). A server elegantly brought out Heinz ketchup packets in a silver creamer. There was no overly apologizing for what was not being offered, but service with excellence. No one would have known it was the club’s first time dealing with such a crisis on a wedding day. 

Who was really there for the food anyway? We delighted in conversation and seeing the happy bride and groom celebrating this long-awaited day.

What a metaphor for marriage: Life hasn’t gone as planned, isn’t going as planned, won’t go as planned. But that’s okay. We can serve each other with excellence and care, and joy can be in making it through it together, with a smile and a dance…and maybe some chicken nuggets and crispy fries.