Last week, I was really praying about my calling. As an English Education major for students in grades 7-12, I’ve have known for at least the past 5 years that even though this was my college major, I have longed and felt called to write full-time as an Author, blogger, and magazine writer with traveling and some sort of adventure. However, when I told my parents this, though they were happy for me, they felt it was not practical and that I would need a more stable job to sustain myself. And at first, I was okay with this. I mean I do enjoy helping others, teaching English, and working with the wonderful staff and kids that I do at the school I work at. I believe I am there for a purpose, I see it as a blessing, and I know that God is working.

However, as the days go on, I hear God more and more leading me into ministry through writing, and despite what my family says (I know they didn’t mean any harm and I know they love and care about me deeply), I feel that if I don’t act soon, the gifts He’s bestowed upon me, will soon be taken away if I don’t put them into action.

Praying through these desires, I was shocked when a fellow teacher at the school I work at randomly said to my coworkers and I, “Holy smokes that girl can write,” and then proceeded to compliment me. Not knowing how in the world she stumbled across my writing, I realized that not even in my knowing, I had invited her to like the Facebook page for my blog, and low and behold, the floodgates opened of her falling in love with it. Still in disbelief of the matter, she then proceeded to ask me, “Seriously, have you ever considered being an Editor or Writer?” And as I held back the tears, “Yes,” I said, as a smile crossed my lips and joy filled my heart.

Not only did I take this as a direct confirmation from God that I’d been praying about the day before, but a moment of encouragement that I really needed to hear.

As I continued to tell her how much I longed to write and how my family didn’t really support it because of the finances, she coined a bold statement that I haven’t quite since been able to shake: “You’re an incredible writer and if you don’t pursue this, you’re missing your calling.”

With the lunch bell ringing and sixth graders beginning to pile into my classroom, I rushed back to my room, holding back tears, and thanking my fellow teacher for how much her words touched my heart.

Now a few weeks later since this moment, I sit at my desk after a day at work and glance over one of my sixth grade students creative writing projects for our class paper. In awe at how well developed the article is, I make my way to return it to the student the next day, and compliment her on her outstanding work. She bashfully accepts the compliment, but I can tell that she doesn’t really believe it, and that’s when it hit me.

Although I strongly feel called to write and pursue that full time, and when that opportunity arises I must take it, right now I will encourage students like this one that their writing matters, because it does. And you know what, if they want to be an Author someday like me, then what’s stopping them? I will be that light for them until the day comes that God pushes me in and provides for the direction I want to follow. I will not miss this calling, my calling, the calling to write. For both now and later, both in season and out of season of where I feel called, and what I feel called to do, I am fervently in pursuit of how He’s going to fulfill that in my life (2 Timothy 4:2). And not even doubts, circumstances, finances, and even myself can stop the powerful call of a God who moves mountains, speaks life into existence, and surely places firm belief in that which He’s called me to pursue.

Agape,

Amber

Scattered Ashes, Smoke Piles Ablaze, More than shrubbery lies in ruins.

From two Twin Towers to the rubble that now lay beneath them, tragedies of hearts are picked up like shards of broken glass.

“Never forget,” they wince in their sharp edges.

“I lost my family,” the cracked sides pierce my skin.

As a small trickle of blood makes its way down my arm, “What do you see?” echoes the shattered mirror mocking back at me.

Now eighteen years later, I see a city made new. Buildings reconstructed, and infrastructures a new.

But they don’t see the hearts still mangled and disfigured in an arrangement of dead bodies like the ones that once laid beneath them.

They don’t feel the pain of the husband, wife, son, daughter, grandma, grandpa, aunt, uncle, friend lost that day, attempting to fill the brokenness in their hearts from not that long ago.

And too often than not, they don’t remember that what happened once, could too easily happen again. That as much as we pray and hope it won’t, our only saving Grace is in God above whom too many choose to reject every single day, to this day.

Because on that day, heartstrings were ripped like chords on a violin breaking. Minds were clouded as foggy as the dust heaps forming where buildings stood a mere few hours prior.

And people were lost not just in their presence, but in their representation to the world. More than quotas of their existence. More than just hundreds of the nameless faces still longing to be identified, but never finding home, like the missing child on the milk carton.

For they would not be found.

They would not be coming back.

They would not be home late from work, “just one more (last) time”.

So staring up at the holes in the ground where buildings once lay ablaze and new ones exist, I choose to remember. I choose to see the pain. I choose to know that you’re still hurting. I choose to pray.

For we do not choose to remember because it didn’t hurt, but because it did. For we do not choose to remember because it didn’t hurt, but because it mattered. And it still does.

Agape,

Amber

This past week, I had the pleasure of spending an entire week alone in my house, minus the company of my dog, Chance, and Grandma that I asked to come over often. Needless to say, that “pleasure” quickly turned to sorrow as the longer the days grew and the darker the nights, the lonelier I became.

Now don’t get me wrong, I love quiet. I love a well-lived in home full of life, but quiet at night. However, when it really comes down to it, once you’ve heard every creak, crack, and bump in the night, many of us don’t like being alone as much as we thought (myself included).

Walking out to the porch one evening that week, even poor Chance wailed his loneliness of humanity through the hollowest howl of horrifying sorrow I’d ever heard. Perhaps it was a lingering revelation that his fellow brother Buddy (who had to be put to sleep a week earlier) was really never coming back, or maybe it was a simple longing for me to come back in the house, even for just a few moments because he couldn’t stand the thought, the feeling, the presence of being alone…even when I was just outside the door he couldn’t see through.

And in some odd parallel of a lonely dog singing opera and a twenty-something girl full of anxiety and fear of being isolated in her bedroom, I tend to wonder if God at the beginning of time felt this way about His creation.

In the Scriptures of Genesis Chapter 2, we learn that just a few short days after God created the Universe in seven, His formation of humans, left one human longing for something that even God knew needed provided. And did this mean that God wasn’t good? Of course not! Did it mean that He had made a mistake? Certainly not. But, it did mean that He recognized a need for His people even before they asked for anything, and in His goodness, He gifted us with something no other could: community.

Breathing His own life into dust to form the lungs of Adam, our Word records that Adam was created with a purpose. He was given a mission to care for the land, avoid the tree of Good and Evil, and live in the presence of our Heavenly Father, and what a joy that sounds! Yet, even with this purpose and calling, Adam had no other human interaction. And before he knew it, I’m sure he felt much like me this week when the Word reflects, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper who is just right for him” (Genesis 2:18, NLT) by God Himself! God who recognized a NEED in His people, even before they would beg, cry out, and ask for it on their own. A need not just romantically, but relationally.

“So the Lord God formed from the ground all the wild animals and all the birds of the sky. He brought them to the man to see what he would call them, and the man chose a name for each one. He gave names to all the livestock, all the birds of the sky, and all the wild animals. But still, there was no helper just right for him. So the Lord God caused the man to fall into a deep sleep. While the man slept, the Lord God took out one of the man’s ribs and closed up the opening. Then the Lord God made a woman from the rib, and he brought her to the man. “At last,” the man exclaimed. “This one is bone from my bone, and flesh from my flesh! She will be called ‘woman,’ because she was taken from ‘man’” (Genesis 2:19-23, NLT).

And you know what I love about that Scripture friends? That as much as I want caring for things to be enough. As much as I want my dog, Chance, to be enough. Even as much as I want God in solitude to be enough, He wants a community for us, and without that, we will utterly be alone. But look! This Scripture not only tells us that God doesn’t want us to be alone, but it also reveals that God will always provide for our every need. In friendship, in a relationship, in family, even before we ever speak a Word.

Psalm 139:4 declares with eloquence, “Even before a word is on my tongue, You know all about it, O Lord” (NLT) and nothing proves this more than the Creator of the Universe providing for the first man on the planet, not because he asked for something, but because God knew that a lack of humanity would never be enough for him.

On Thursday this week, I finally saw my parents, and as eager as a child in a candy store, I couldn’t resist the urge to tell them how much I missed them this week. And in that short span of five seconds, I realized something profound: Even in their lack of physical appearance this week, I was reassured every night by the voice of my parents that they cared for and loved me the same, even when I couldn’t presently see them, and I couldn’t help but think that the same principle applies to our Father in Heaven who profoundly longs to hear, speak, talk to, and remind us that we’re never alone.

Even when we can’t see Him behind the door.

Even when we can’t hear Him and we scream at the top of our lungs with a wailing sorrow.

Even when we can’t speak because we’re so full of tears that all that comes out is a blubbering mess of emotion.

Even when it’s just a week and you know your parents will be back again (as silly as that sounds), but you miss their presence and community, know this:

He’s still there. He still cares. And regardless of if we can physically see, hear, or experience Him; He doesn’t want us to be alone.

Agape,
Amber

1 Corinthians 13:11-12

“11When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. 12For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.”

  As a child, growing up with interactions of the opposite sex wasn’t something I was accustomed to. Though I had two half-brothers and a loving dad, my siblings were addicted to drugs, and my dad was crippled by a debilitating illness that would make relationships with either a challenge. To this day, those relationships still lack and suffer where I wish they didn’t.

  In school, girls and boys sang, “Boys go to Jupiter to get more stupider, Girls go to Mars to get more stars” and if I wasn’t careful, that’s how my belief of them would go- not that the gender of male was stupid per-say, but that I 100% didn’t know how to interact with them because I thought they were so different. 

  In a sense, that childish tune spoke clarity that the physical and social makeup of men and women are completely different. Women like to talk more than men, and men are more drawn to physical and sexual elements of a woman than vice-versa. Women have closer female friends, while men tend to like to be the alpha of a pack. Women like feeling, men like logic. The list goes on and on, for at its core, we make decisions differently, solve conflict in an arrangement of manners, and see life in so many different colors, it’ll make your head spin like a kaleidoscope. Regardless of these contrasts, however, we know from Scripture that both men and women are created equal and loved in the eyes of our beholder. Genesis 1:27 remarks, “27 So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.”

  Throughout the next few years, my perception of men would drastically and underlyingly be rooted in the sorrow of my own interactions with them, leaving me not only petrified of the opposite sex, but in avoidance of them like Jesus had released a newest plague that said, “Ew, boys have cooties,” except for me, it was more like, “Don’t talk to them, they will only leave you or hurt your feelings”. 

  In High School, my number of guy friends was relatively limited. I had probably 2 or 3 and interacted with a few in class about assignments, but that was its extent. I had a crush on a great Christian guy, but when he rejected me in more ways than just relationally, the confidence I had built up with the opposite gender faltered. I felt betrayed, broken, scarred, and absolutely anything less than worthy. More than that, not only did my self-value decrease but with it, my ability to think that guys and a relationship with them could be beneficial. Even outside the realm of romance, I developed an extreme fear of guys, for paranoia that they too would no longer want to be friends with me.

  In college, I attended a private Christian school where, of course, all the “Good Christian boys” were the rave of the freshman halls and courting dating seasons I laughed at. As a commuter, I thankfully missed out on this “Freshman dating season,” but that didn’t stop me from being drawn to a few. In the end, and time after time though, they only seemed to be “Christian boys” and not the “Godly men,” I was looking for in both friendship and relationship. Junior year, however, I learned a lesson that I’ll never forget.

  Deciding to become a hall Chaplin and small group leader for commuters on campus, I was given the privilege to get to know other male and female leaders that had a passion for bringing others to Christ. Of these leaders, one particular guy was kind to me, and though my friends tried to set me up romantically with him (and this miserably failed), the kindness he showed to me as a person (even in a rejection of romance, but acceptance of friendship) broke through those walls I’d built back up and revealed a different definition of the specimen species I’d spent so many years avoiding. He was a person just like me, and I finally began to see that maybe healthy relationships with the opposite sex, especially friendship ones, was vitally crucial to our existence as Christians here on this Earth. 

  From that moment on, and over the next two years in college, my interactions with the male gender became more prominent than those with the female and to say I was shocked would be an understatement. I couldn’t believe that I, Amber Ginter, a girl terrified of guys, would have so many male friends, yet I did. And to be honest, they began teaching me a lot. A lot about yes, how different they were than me, but also, how they too just longed to have friends, be accepted, goof off. And guess what? For the most part, they had true and genuine intentions in their interactions with me. 

  From the non-Christians I discipled to those in my dance class, I began to see them in a light much more like that of Christ, than that of my own tainted and hurt distortion. I began to see them as brothers of Christ that needed love, rather than guys I might fall for or a friend who might leave me. And as I began to grow in this, the number of guys God started to place in my life highly outnumbered my colossal of fears about them. From peers and fellow classmates to the random guys God would call me to go on a mission trip with to Canada (1 of which would become my boyfriend (yes, I still think God is crazy cool like that)), I have learned that interactions with the opposite sex are not only indispensably crucial to our growth as females, but to the impact and opportunity we have to make on the world.

But what does this mean for us today? 

1. We need to recognize that relationships of any kind with the opposite sex are not these misconstrued culturally confused phenomena’s in which the Church sometimes tries to tell us “men and women can’t be friends, it just doesn’t work.” – First of all, men and women are brothers and sisters in Christ that are called to engage in healthy and safe friendships with one another. Measuring boundaries, respecting one another’s space, and reflecting Christ in this mutual interaction is vital. We are called to support and build up, not avoid, tear down, or talk trash about.
2. We must take a stand that segregation of sexes not only fuels the fire for division but annihilates the call of communion with one another that Christ calls us to. – Instead of separating our young adolescents into boys’ and girls’ groups so that “Boys won’t think about girls that way,” and “Girls won’t become obsessed with boys,” we are only adding fire to the flame. Attraction and exploration of the opposite sex are just a normal part of life, and the more we detour our young peers from that, the less they will see and experience what healthy relationships should look like.
3. When pursuing and maintaining relationships and friendships with the opposite sex, we must know the difference between the two and establish clear boundaries. – It’s with hesitancy that I declare this point because I know it can be taken out of context, but friendships and relationships with the opposite sex are possible, though they take careful consideration and alignment with prayer and Scripture. Let me give you an example. Generally, when I used to pursue friendships with guys, it was because I had a crush on them and could care less about the friendship aspect; this was wrong, hence why they never worked out. However, when I started leaving this in God’s hands, I realized that being friends, and just friends, was imperative if anything more were to ever exist with anyone. As a young man of the Lord began pursuing me this time last year, my response was close to someone swerving from hitting an adorable bunny on the road. I wasn’t used to someone else pursuing me, someone else putting effort into knowing me, someone else setting healthy boundaries to protect me, but it was the right thing. Friendships breed the ground for romance, even if they never end in that. 
4. Realize that setting those clear boundaries is not only respect to yourself and your body, but the God who created you. – When striving for friendships with guys (and you aren’t dating someone-AKA me for 22 years of my life), be careful that you are pursuing clarity and friendship and not deceptive romance. Be their friend and have no hidden motives for anything more. Don’t do things that you should only do with someone you’re dating or married to, and respect their feelings, emotions, and overall well-being. Keep your intentions pure, and seek nothing out of the relationship, other than to “Be willing to lay down one’s life for his or her friends” (John 15:13). In the context of friendships when you are dating, don’t interact with other males in a way that would make your boyfriend worried. I have male friends now that I have a boyfriend, but I don’t flirt with them, hang out one-on-one without anyone else around, or push boundaries. They are simply friends and brothers in Christ that I can talk to, but they aren’t as close as my boyfriend. Primarily, my boyfriend will grow to become my best friend, and that’s what maintains the health and rigor of its quality.
5. Accept that boundaries with the opposite sex in a relationship can be tricky, awkward, and painful, but lifelong, rewarding and Christ-like fruits of love, joy, and hope will be reaped to those who harvest well.– Though I don’t claim to be an expert, and I have little experience, when my boyfriend and I tried to date the first time, it was if someone went to Hades and released pure torture here on earth. We couldn’t get along and didn’t understand how we could be great friends, but not great boyfriend and girlfriend and that’s precisely where the problem was found. When we started dating again this past December, we both recognized the essential demand and necessity of maintaining that friendship, as integrated into our relationship. Instead of him focusing on romance and addiction to physical touch, for instance, we re-evaluated how we could better serve one another in Christ, and that came through authentic, vulnerable, and honest, transparent friendship.

  And perhaps Jesus gives us the best demonstration of upholding this integrity with others no matter the type of relationship we possess with them. From a friend of sinners, to a single man who never lusted after or married a woman, He exemplifies how we are to treat one another. Ephesians 4:32 remarks, “Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you” as Luke 6:31 reminds us, “As you wish that others would do to you, do so to them.”

  As Christians, we’re not called to freak out, shun, be timid, or avoidant of interactions with the opposite sex. But, we are called to do them right, and that includes praying about, reading about, and building them up in Scripture. The next time your child comes home singing that crazy tune about yucky boys, or you wonder when the right one will come along, and why in the tarnation the twelfth person this week has asked you if you’re married, remember this: Your life is not small, and surely God who created the Heavens and the Earth knows how to give you the relationships you need, when you need them, even and especially with those of the opposite sex.

Until next time, 

Agape, Amber 

Father, Forgive Me, For Everything I’m Not. Every broken promise, withheld idol, things I’ve hidden behind locks.

Empty words of praise I sang when I couldn’t find the heart.

Second-hand prayers I said, like who cares if they matter or not.

Last minute cries I whimpered when I know that I should’ve come to your first.

The idols I set before myself when really they left me more empty than I sought.

Father, Forgive Me, For Everything I’m Not. Every selfish act, malicious word, jealous remark I’ve tried to besot.

Lies I’ve told myself to cover the hurt inside.

Anxiety I’ve bottled up, as selfish as my pride.

The depression that I cling to as if it were my first line of defense.

The worry and fear that rob me of my proclaimed innocence.

Father, Forgive Me, For Everything I’m Not, but praise the Lord that the God I serve is a forgiving God even and especially when I’m not.

That even in my weakness.

In my struggles…

Selfish, anxiety, worry, fear…

Depression, doubt, and pride…

He stands at the foot of the cross, arms stretched wide, and bears my issues for the price of His life.

So Father, Forgive Them, For Everything They Are Not.

Because even on my greatest days, at my highest heights, “I’m no better than them,” rings an afterthought.

For if you loved them enough to die a humiliating death, hanging from a tree.

I sure as heck can give a life worthy of the one I’ve received.

-Father, Forgive Me.

Agape,

Amber