August 2016 - Gina Brenna Butz

Focusing on the Right Goal (I’m talking to you, sideline parents)

Post author:Gina B
Post published:August 29, 2016
Post category:parenting

It’s that time again, when we parents get to drag our camp chairs to the sidelines and cheer on our future professional hopefuls in various sports. A few weeks ago I got a taste of this again when I spent 2 hours in the rain with a 104 heat index (thanks Orlando) watching our daughter play an end-of-soccer-camp scrimmage. Based on the reactions of parents around me, though, I might have thought I was at the World Cup finals and there were endorsement deals riding on the outcome of the game.

Fellow parents, we have got to take it down a notch.

As we enter another season of sports, can we all just keep a little perspective?

We are not put on this earth to play sports. Our purpose is to learn how to navigate the world with confidence, grace, and character. The goal is to learn to live as loved people, and to love others well.

The vast majority of kids will not play sports beyond high school, even middle school. They are going to be doctors and salespeople and teachers and baristas and parents and a host of other roles. They are meant to discover their gifts and talents, most of which will not be sports related, and to use them to His glory.

Our job as parents is to help them become these loved, confident, grace-filled, gift-sharing people of character.

So the one question we should be asking ourselves is:

Do my actions and words in watching this game reflect that goal?

If that’s our goal, then we will celebrate who they are more than what they do. We will praise teamwork and good efforts. Our focus will be their attitude more than their skills. Encouraging words will flow out of us, rather than blame and criticism. We will teach them to be gracious in victory. And failure. What they are learning through playing this sport will translate to living bravely in the world. Afterward, we’ll remind them that is it just a game, and there’s a whole big other world out there.

Let’s keep the big picture in mind, fellow sideline parents. There’s a goal we’re aiming for and it’s not the one on the field.

When You’re Starting the Week Weary

Post author:Gina B
Post published:August 22, 2016
Post category:faith grace rest

When You're Starting Out the Week Weary — Photo by Matthew Henry on Unsplash

A friend of mine texted last night to see if I had any time this week to get together.

Everything in me wanted to say yes, but the reality was that looking at my schedule this week was already making me tired.

No margin. No white space. Mostly self-imposed, but it all feels necessary (“feel” being the operative word there).

Anybody else staring down a week of “I’m not sure when I’ll sit down” or “so much for cleaning the house?” (I say that like I actually would have cleaned the house if I had time. Ha).

Maybe it’s not that your schedule is too full, but that the activities that fill it ask so much of you. You’re trying to balance home and work and relationships and goals, and it’s enough to wear down the soul.

I opened my email this morning and saw this great post about walking away the Monday blues. What encouraged me most from it was this version of Matthew 11:28-30 from The Message:

“Are you tired? Worn out? Come to Me. Get away with Me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with Me and work with me-watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with Me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

I want those unforced rhythms of grace. Too often I try too hard, doing too much, one more task, one more activity squeezed in until there’s no space left. No grace. But if it’s heavy or ill-fitting, maybe it’s not what He’s called me to do.

Whether it’s a quiet walk or 10 minutes of silence (maybe in the bathroom cause that’s the only place you can get away) or just a moment when we stop and take some deep breaths-He’s calling us to come and remember that He can show us how to walk freely and lightly in the midst of busy.

He knows how to stare down a busy week-a week full of ministry and demands and conflict-and do it with a rested heart. He can teach us how to do it too.

Get away with Him. Get His perspective, His strength, His peace, His power. Keep company with Him this week.

We Need to Stop Hitting Ourselves

Post author:Gina B
Post published:August 15, 2016
Post category:grace identity truth

If you have siblings, at some point you played the ‘game’ where you forced a family member to hit themselves with their own hands, while saying, “Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself?” This was really only funny for one of you, am I right?

Too often, though, we play this game all by ourselves. We are the ones hitting ourselves, beating ourselves up over failure and weakness, berating ourselves for being less than. We speak harshly, demanding more, demanding better, rarely letting ourselves off the hook. I know. I’m really good at that game.

This summer, I’ve seen levels of anxiety in my soul I didn’t know were there, and my natural inclination has been to pour contempt on it, willing it away. Instead of sitting with it, I want to run to a place of condemnation for what feels like weakness, failure, a lack of faith, as if that’s where I’ll find the salvation I seek.

Recently, a friend introduced me to this song, Be Kind to Yourself, by Andrew Peterson:

The line that gets me is, “How does it end when the war that you’re in is just you against you against you?”

We can live like our own worst enemies. We speak contempt to our own souls in a way that we would never speak to another. We shut down emotions that we think are unacceptable. We tell ourselves we just need more faith. When we mess up, we are the first in line to call it out and condemn. We admonish ourselves to suck it up and deal with life, rather than listen with grace to that in us which needs a voice. Who wins in this scenario?

So what do we do? For starters, we remind ourselves that we do have an enemy, and it’s not us.

We can chose to side with him against ourselves, or we can chose to side with the One who loves us. He never speaks harshly. He never condemns. He is patient with our weaknesses. He always speaks with compassion, grace, truth and acceptance. He expects more failure from us than we expect from ourselves, and yet it doesn’t change the fact that He’s wild about us.

So tell yourself it’s ok. You’re doing the best you can with what you have. Cut yourself some slack for your mistakes. Forgive yourself when you sin. Encourage yourself to get back up when you fall. Speak grace. Speak kindness. Speak compassion. Love yourself where you are, because He does.

He is kind to us. He invites us to be kind to ourselves. Stop hitting yourself. Lay down your weapons and rest.

Why It’s Good When We See Olympians Fail

Post author:Gina B
Post published:August 13, 2016
Post category:identity

Why It's Good When We See Olympians Fail

My daughter and I spent 3 hours Friday biting our nails and holding our breath, watching the US Women’s National Soccer team play Sweden in the quarterfinals of the Olympics. It came down to PKs, and they lost. They. Lost.

The team favored to win the gold is out of the Olympics.

If it was up to me, they’d still be blazing a trail toward the top of that podium. I’m going to have to boycott IKEA for awhile (although I really need some RÄTTVIK). But as it stands, these women will go home empty-handed.

I’m choosing to see the good in it.

Because here is a chance for our kids to see that you can be the best at something and still fail.

Sometimes the game doesn’t go your way. You miss the shot. The call isn’t fair. Sometimes you work as hard as you can for your dream and it falls short. You just can’t make it happen, no matter how amazing you are.

And if all that’s true, then our kids can see that being the best is a precarious platform on which to build your identity.

It is gone in a heartbeat. These Olympic games show us over and over that value built on achievement slips through our fingers based on hundredths of seconds and millimeters of space.

So we remind them that as we reach high for our dreams, we also sink our roots into the solid ground of who we are in Jesus.

That way, whatever the outcome, we are unfazed, because we aren’t building a home on our performance. It’s built on Him and it can’t be shaken.

Throughout these Olympics, we will see dreams rise and fall. What a great reminder to put our faith and hope in that which cannot be taken from us, to remember that what we do and how well we do it is never a reflection of our worth.

When Falling Is Good

What Being a Soccer Mom Teaches Me about Parenting

As the Ride Winds Down – Thoughts on the Last Moments of Childhood

Post author:Gina B
Post published:August 9, 2016
Post category:parenting

As the Ride Winds Down - Thoughts on the Last Moments of Childhood

This summer I spent a good amount of time with my niece and nephew, who have a combined age of 3 1/2, and I was taken back to those early days.

Days when it felt like time stood still. When I never actually finished a story in a conversation because someone was suddenly tugging on my leg (they were such good stories too). When I was proud that I showered or made dinner. (Who am I kidding? I’m still proud when I make dinner).

Fast forward to me now. The seasons go by like the days used to pass. Now it’s their stories and jokes I love to hear. They’re making dinner (praise Jesus). But I’m realizing that this ride is starting to slow down.

In a few weeks, I will sit in the silence of a house void of children as they head back to school. I know that I will blink and it will be my reality every day.

I no longer have to buy sippy cups or crayons or children’s toothpaste. We don’t go to the library or playgrounds to pass the time. I’m staring down the last years of their childhood. Like a kid who feels the carnival ride is winding down, I want to eke out the last moments of this precious ride.

Enjoying the Last Moments

That’s why, kids, I want you to just come and sit with me in the evenings. No, not even to do anything, but just to be together. I linger for end of the day unexpected questions at bedtime. And I sneak back in after you’re asleep just to look at you (I’m creepy like that. And also because, sweet girl, you say wonderfully nonsensical things when you’re half-awake).

I love that I get to drive you to school. It gives me just a little more time with you. I look forward to seeing you every morning and I thank God that I get you one more day. Those moments when you do still need me are so precious.

I want to go crazy making sure we do all those last “we said we would” activities and vacations. Let’s play games and go for walks together. I will fight for weekly family time, even if all we do is sit around together and wonder what we should do.

This is when I wonder if we’ve taught you everything and how you’ll do without us (I’m sure you’ll be fine – it’s me I’m worried about). I want to tell you everything I think you’ll need to know for all time (I realize you’ll just be graduating though and we will continue to communicate, but just in case).

I question if we’ve loved you well and if you will say you enjoyed the ride too.

It’s slowing down, but it’s not over yet.

I’m sitting alone one night and she comes in to say, “I was turning on my fan and thought, ‘I just want to see my mommy.'” He’s at home alone and decides he’s bored enough to clean the whole house for me. She has a hard day of school and decides the best place is my lap, curled up just like she used to when she was just that little. He starts each day by finding me for a hug.

I’m going to cherish every last second.

Embracing Imperfection

Post author:Gina B
Post published:August 4, 2016
Post category:grace identity

You know that part of you that you wish wasn’t?

Maybe your hair curls too much. Or not enough. Your butt’s too flat but your stomach is too big (could you switch them?). You’ve got facial hair, but you’re a girl. Big feet. Big ears. You never moved past a “barely B” cup. Or you went way too far beyond that.

For me, it’s this:

The dreaded widow’s peak. Mine’s the sharpest I’ve ever seen. Like Dracula, I am. So here’s my big confession: for nigh on 20 years, I plucked it out. Not all of it – that would have given me a receding hairline. But just enough so that it wasn’t noticeable.

I envied flat hairline people. No, really, I did. I thought, “They have no idea how good they have it.” A widow’s peak messes up most hairstyles. It felt like a curse. My thorn to bear (ok, that’s maybe a little melodramatic).

Then, a few years ago, I stopped plucking it out. At first, it grew in curly. (There was a little girl, who had a little curl . . . ). Yikes! It’s since settled down. I’m still not used to seeing it peek out. I sometimes try to style my hair so you still don’t see it. The other day, Megan saw it in the rearview mirror and pointed out that I should cover it up. (She’s got one too that she doesn’t like. I think hers is awesome).

Nothing like seeing a lack of grace for yourself show up in your own kids. I have an opportunity in that moment not only to let myself off the hook, but to help her accept all of herself as well. I’m no parenting expert, but that seems like there’s a pretty clear choice here.

So I decided: no.

No more talking smack about the widow’s peak. Time to give it some grace. For better or worse, God decided to give me a widow’s peak. He’s also given me wide feet, freckles, and other things I wouldn’t have chosen. And that’s just the outside! But all of me, inside and out, is fearfully and wonderfully made. These imperfections remind me that my idea of beautiful and God’s idea of beautiful are different. I’m going to trust His idea and embrace my imperfections.

Beautiful

Enjoying the Last Moments

It’s slowing down, but it’s not over yet.

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