Columns

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.