Write with Author NJ Miller

On being normal There is a look and sound that is considered normal by many. Look in the mirror. Do you have it? What color is your face? Is it free of blemishes, is your hair the normal range of straight to curly, are your clothes agreeable within the normal range of style, fit, and cleanliness? Speak a sentence. Are you in the normal range of the English language with no accent? If so, you probably look normal. But what’s inside all of that?   There are many ways to miss the normal mark on the inside. Maybe you are not in the normal range of seeing or hearing. In fact, normal can be measured, quantified, and diagnosed. You might look normal on the outside until you don’t speak normally, don’t respond to others, trip over something obvious, not recognize someone, or you don’t converse about normal activities.  You could look normal on the outside but think very differently. Thinking differently can cause you to miss important learning at school as with different hearing or se...

I raised my rifle in ready for the perfect shot. The deer stood tall with majestic antlers raised high. I’m not sure why I was hesitating. I prepared well for this moment. It was my day to make my father proud. We spent hours shooting at targets that looked like deer heads finding the precise spot for a kill shot. I remember admiring the deer heads my father proudly mounted on the walls in the cabin away from my mothers tender eyes. My father had finally taken me hunting while my brother laughingly shouted a girl would never be able to shoot a deer. Here I was in my moment of glory, ready to take the shot when I heard a boom followed by a thump on the ground. I looked up and the deer was gone. With fearful eyes, I saw huge man walking toward me. Then he stopped near where I had seen the deer. He reached to the ground and picked up the limp dead animal with his gloved hands and tossed into a giant bag at his feet. He threw the bag over his shoulder and walked away. I knew I should be th...

  Feeling the heat of a stationary stuffy plane listening to emergency announcements, ready to go, ready to get home with myself and a quick dinner. Hungry starting a two-hour flight. I feel the force of the plane rattling and shaking until the full thrust of the giant metal bird pulls me upward.   The silver-winged machine allows me to whisk through the air at record speeds to see family living in a distant state. Flying through the air feels magical and mystical. The mystery of flying. How can this big heavy machine full of hundreds of people and all their luggage be lifted toward the heavens? I say a prayer and trust I will get to my destination. Supposedly safer than driving, and possibly safer than walking, I expect the machine to get me to my destination not imagining any other option.   From the sky above, sitting in the rocking big ship, I look down on the sparkle of distant cars, the sharp points of mountaintops below me, the rectangle of rooftops and the tapestr...

The most wonderful time of the year might be buying gifts, gathering with family, eating treats, singing Christmas songs, or going to candlelight services.  The most wonderful time of the year makes a lovely song, but for many December is not the most wonderful time of the year. For some, the glitter and glam of December brings the stress of job loss, low income, or holiday drama.  The most wonderful time of the year for me is every day that I quietly praise my God and celebrate Christ. When I can share my love with another person, it is the most wonderful day of the year. I will share some time with family on and around Christmas but it is not my favorite time of the year. Hearing a child describe her excitement over Christmas morning makes me smile. When children know they will get nice presents for Christmas, it is the most wonderful time of the year for them. I am blessed that I can share her joy. The most wonderful time for me is making things with my granddaughter. We ha...

When I was a kid in the 60’s, my brother, sister, and I started watching the movie, The Boy With Green Hair. About halfway through the movie, my sweet staunch, grandmother came into the room, turned off the television, and said it was time for cookies. This picture of grandmother turning off the movie seems to have affected my sister and I in similar ways. Years later, when I mentioned my grandmother turning off the movie and wondering what happened to the boy with green hair, my sister said she also remembered that day and wondered what happened in the rest of the story.    While searching for the movie, I learned there was a lot of controversy around showing posters of war orphans and suffering children. Did my grandmother turn off the movie because of the anti-war message or because we watched an hour of television? Makes me wonder, but it was probably too much television.   With the movie’s new release in 2023, I was able to find it streaming on Prime Video and rented...

Image by Christel from Pixabay When it’s cold I feel refreshed and invigorated for a little while until I feel cold to the bone. When it’s cold and a chill sets in, it feels cozy to put on a warm sweater and have a hot cup of tea. When it’s cold, I can bundle up and get warm. If it’s really cold where my feet feel frozen in my shoes, and I didn’t wear a hat or gloves, then I feel icy cold.  When it’s cold, I might see white fluffy snow on the ground or hear the sound of hail hitting the roof. From my warm habitat, I step out on the porch where I can watch the heavens emptying their wares. Clouds, rain, ice, and snow are sometimes predictable, but no one really knows when water will change to ice or blue skies will fill with gray storm clouds. I see predictions and I try to dress for what might come. But when it’s cold, it might catch me unprepared. When I have a cold glass of water or soda on a sizzling day, I plop some ice cubes in my drink and bask in the joy of a cold container...