Shattered Silence

We’re all Broken   (We are all broken, but it is okay; that's how the light gets in) Just a little over two months I learned something about brokenness that not only made me study myself a little bit more, but analyze others and get a glimpse into the truth that maybe when everyone says “Yeah, I’m okay”, they are further from okay than a girl claiming that “Things are fine”.   More specifically, I have learned that sometimes when we think we know a person, we only see their outer surface layer and that their true self is still hidden behind depths, mounds, and leaps of struggles, insecurities, guilt, and sin, disguised by the realities of built up walls, overthought perceptions, and lack of self-worth; myself included. When someone hurts you, for instance, we as Christian’s are taught to turn the other cheek, forgive the person, and move on with our lives.   But brokenness caused by a hurting heart, crushed soul, and inferior look in the mirror can take a person quite

You’ve changed (Who cares if I'm laughing and look silly! At least I am being authentic:))   Over the past few months, I have had quite a few people tell me that “I’ve changed”, and by quite a few, I mean the majority of those that I interact with. “Amber, what do your plans look like for the next few weeks?” Jeanie asked. “Well, I just got back from dance nationals and before that, a Mission Trip to Indiana, and you wouldn’t believe what happened. There was no schedule and I had no idea what I was going to do each day until that day arrived, but somehow, I was COMPLETELY okay with it?   Then, next week I leave for a camp where I will work with K-6 th grade, the following week I have work, and the week after that I go back to the same camp.   I was also supposed to also go on a Mission Trip to Puerto Rico, but that trip got cancelled, which is okay because I have Small Group and Hall Chaplin training for the college anyways” I replied calmly. “Who are you?” she la

Dance Shoes Are Not Pretty (Photo Credit Belongs to Photographer: Amber Nicole Ginter "Yes, these really are my huge feet") Being an avid dancer since the age of 3 years old, I remember when I held my first pair of dance shoes.   They were baby pink with the softest glow, and a miniature size, because who knew at age three, that my feet would one day grow to be huge.   In their pleasant but vibrant shade of pastel colors, my small hands grasped what would soon be the biggest passion of my childhood.   And little did I know, that these shoes I once saw as so pretty, would hold the most amount of sweat, tears, growth, and pain that I knew possible. Growing up at a very traditional studio (Miss Elizabeth’s School of Dance), I took tap, ballet, and acrobatics until I was old enough to choose my classes.   At the age of eight, I then enrolled in tap, and jazz, which would lead to tap line blackout, regular tap, jazz line blackout, and regular jazz by the end of my Seni