identity Archives - Page 3 of 4

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

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

How to Swimsuit Shop without Shame

Post author:Gina B
Post published:July 18, 2016
Post category:grace gratitude identity truth

Last week I took a trip to hell, also known as swimsuit shopping. Not only do you have to see what your half-naked body looks like wrapped in variously fitting and oftentimes unflattering spandex, but you get to do it in a room designed by a sadist. Who thought fluorescent lighting in dressing rooms was a good idea?

But I was determined to not let it ruin me.

First of all, I felt I would greatly benefit from having this girl with me:

And then I thought maybe I should just BE this girl.

I decided that whatever thoughts came to mind about what I was seeing in the mirror, I would focus on what I love. Then again, love can sometimes feel like a stretch. But grateful? I can definitely be grateful for what I have.

Why I’m Grateful as I Swimsuit Shop

Gratitude reminds me that I can stand up and shop on my own, without help.

I live in a place where women are free to wear what they want. That’s a privilege many live without.

This body has housed my soul, been its barometer reminding me when I need to eat, sleep, breathe, for over 40 years. It tells me when we’re not doing well, which is kind. I want to be kind in return.

I am thankful even for my stretch marks because they mean I have been blessed to carry two babies.

The shape of my body means I have never gone hungry, when so many do.

How grateful I am for a husband who praises my body when I know there are women who are demeaned because of theirs.

I am thankful that I have the opportunity to rest and refresh myself, giving rise to the need for this suit.

Thank God I have money to buy a suit since I pulled a Gina and forgot to bring any of the three I already own (and thank God for 60% off sales).

And on and on.

Gratitude can surround our hearts like a shield, protecting us from that which would tear us down.

As we gather the pieces of what we can celebrate, our eyes are turned off what we lack and onto how we are blessed.

I survived my swimsuit shopping. Actually, I more than survived. Gratitude kept my head above the water, like a lifesaver made from grace. It keeps us afloat in the deepest waters.

The Lies of “Too Much” and “Not Enough”

Post author:Gina B
Post published:April 18, 2016
Post category:identity loved

The Lies of "Too Much" and "Not Enough"

There are two lies we can live by, flip sides of the same coin.

One lie tells us that we might be too much for other people. Too needy, too messy, too emotional, too demanding of the emotional space of others.

The lie tells us to live in fear of being “that person” – the one who asks more than others want to give. It says there’s a limit to how much people want of us.

The other side says maybe we’re not enough. We’re the shirt someone sees in the store that they like, but not quite enough to try it on, not quite enough to invest in it.

It says sure, they like us, but maybe they don’t really like us. Not enough to pursue us. The lie says we might not be fun enough, or interesting enough, or whatever enough of what it would take for them to come closer.

The lies keep us in a crazy battle to be less of this and more of that. They make us question ourselves, to hold back when we should be authentic, to hide parts of ourselves in order to be more acceptable, a constant, “Do you like me now? Do you like me now?” They demand we find a way to make ourselves perfectly lovable.

Both lies say the burden is on us to prove ourselves. We must earn a spot in peoples’ hearts.

They tell us there is no place to rest.

But the truth sets us free.

“As long as I keep running about asking: ‘Do you love me? Do you really love me?’ I give all power to the voices of the world and put myself in bondage because the world is filled with ‘ifs.'” (Henri Nouwen, Return of the Prodigal Son)

Yes, those lies are bondage. When they whisper to us, “prove yourself worthy,” we say back, “It’s already been done.”

The truth is, we aren’t meant to measure worth, we are simply called to live it. We are worth the space we take up in this world. We are worth pursuing.

If we weren’t, then the God of the universe would not have taken the time to put us here. He would not have come for us. He would not have died in our place. He’s declared us worthy.

Let’s live in the truth of our worth.

Feel Your Worth

Finding Your Own Voice

Post author:Gina B
Post published:April 4, 2016
Post category:identity loved parenting

Finding Your Own Voice Thank God for those mint green Converse shoes.

Do you know what they mean to me? The fact that you wanted them means you are learning to know your own mind. My girl, who so often fears choices because they might not be “right,” you knew that you wanted those.

And then you wanted to wear them with your dress. Your words were, “it’s just like those movies where the girls aren’t girly girls, so they wear shoes with dresses.”

Yeah, it is. Let’s pull out Pretty in Pink and Some Kind of Wonderful, although probably you’re thinking of something else since those are my movies, not yours. My heart skipped a little just seeing you own who you are.

All your life, this is what I have wanted for you – that you would know yourself and claim it. That you would see that how He has made you is so very, very good. That you would love how He made you a bundle of sweet, heartbreaking empathy and tough, play through the hurt grit. He made you to love puppies and hate pink. He made you sweet and sassy.

I know that in the age you are, you have so much pressure to be what others want you to be in order to fit in. It might just be a pair of Converse (that we scored on a sweet sale), but to me, it’s an answer to prayer, that you would learn to express who you are and know that it is good.

I am so glad that in the midst of all the voices, you are finding your own.

Hopes for My Daughter, On Turning 13

Promises to My Children

Freedom – guest post at Mudroom

Post author:Gina B
Post published:November 25, 2015
Post category:faith identity loved

It was in that Bible study that I realized I was not free.

We were eight couples, all of us fresh into our time as expats in Singapore, struggling to find our footing in what we jokingly called “Fantasy Island.” That group was a lifeline in the midst of our turbulent transition to a new country, yet I often walked away from times with them feeling insecure and unsettled. Why?

Read the rest of the story at The Mudroom blog, where I’m guest posting this week.

We Are All Glorious Messes

Post author:Gina B
Post published:October 21, 2015
Post category:expectations grace identity

I just read a post written by a woman who called herself “that mom.” The mom who seems to be failing on all fronts. She says she’s in a rough patch. I get it. We’ve all been there.

I see a lot of posts like this lately, posts that lift the veil on the highly censored, cleaned up versions we often post of ourselves on Facebook, and show that life isn’t always that great.

It’s not as great as the posts of people who ran 10K this morning and toured Europe and whose kids invented something that will now be patented. (for the record, none of those things are true of me).

It’s good, this kind of transparency.

It breaks down walls. It combats shame. But what is discouraging to me is that it seems to create an either/or mentality, and a shaming of those who are doing “well.”

We celebrate those who own their messes (and we should) but we draw lines and separate them from those who claim to be hitting their marks. We call those “other people” fake or boastful.

The fact is, these lines don’t exist.

“That mom” may have had an off day, but I bet if you sit with her, you would wind up concluding that she’s actually doing a great job, even in the midst of her failings.

And the people who are posting their victories aren’t necessarily trying to say they always live at awesome. Granted, they might be, but maybe they don’t feel the freedom to admit that they fall short. That should evoke compassion from us, not shaming. Maybe they’re just saying, “I had a red letter day. Rejoice with me.” And we should.

We Are Both

Can we be the woman who messes up, but is being faithful and pressing on and sometimes has really great moments that she wants to celebrate?

Can we be the woman who is enjoying life and doing well, but let others into the fact that she’s sometimes less than her best?

There is space to affirm both. We can rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn. God desires we enter in with both.

We aren’t either/or. We are both.

Success and failure don’t define us. We are both extraordinary and ordinary. There is light and dark in all of us.

We are glorious messes.

If we tend toward focusing on our failures, maybe it’s time we stopped and celebrated what is good. And if we are only showing the shiny parts of life, maybe it’s time to let some people see where we’re struggling.

We can be both.

Free to Be Me: Guest Post on Mudroom

Post author:Gina B
Post published:August 21, 2015
Post category:identity loved

I deeply desire to be an authentic person. I want to be someone others see as real, and who invites others to be their real selves too. Too often, though, my authenticity looks like what Don Miller describes in Scary Close, “I’m the kind of person who wants to present my most honest, authentic self to the world—so I hide backstage and rehearse honest and authentic lines until the curtain opens.”

This week, I have the great privilege of guest posting on Mudroom, “a place for the stories emerging in the midst of our mess.” The paragraph above is an excerpt from my post. Read it in full here!

Learning to Respect My Limits

Post author:Gina B
Post published:May 9, 2015
Post category:dependence on God identity rest

Learning to Respect My Limits

Limits. I hate them. I push them. I want to believe I am a superwoman who has no limits. And then every once in awhile (more frequently in recent years) God pulls me aside and reminds me that I do in fact have limits, and that they are good. I should respect them.

I sat down to write about this recently, and realized I already had about a year ago, on my friend Dayle’s blog (see what I mean about God reminding me over and over?). So here is what He continues to teach me:

Our dog Scout begins her daily exercise like her tail’s on fire. We’ve resorted to biking her – walking is just not her pace. Still, she runs so fast out of the gate that she can pull us. I watch her and think, “That can’t be comfortable. She’s choking herself.” Yet many times, toward the end of the ride, I am the one having to urge her along. I can only bike so slowly before falling over, after all. If only she had paced herself.

I’m just like her though. I am not a respecter of my own limits. Physical, mental, emotional – I push them all. I have a lot of passion and ambition, and those are good things, except when they lead me to strain at the leash and pull in directions God isn’t leading me. And the natural consequence? I run out of steam.

If only Scout knew that I know how far we are going every day. Then she might trust my pace. If we’re taking the short route, it’s fine for her to run faster, but we’re usually taking the long back road and it’s not for sprinting.

If only I would trust that God knows where He’s taking me. He knows how far we’re going. He knows the limits He has given me and wants me to live within them. He knows that if only I kept His pace the journey would be so much more pleasant for both of us. If only I would take the time each day to listen to what He has for me, and agree that it is good, and it is enough, and that the tasks that won’t get done will be the path for another day.

Galatians 5:25 says, “Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit.” I need Him to show me step by step, moment by moment where the boundaries are for me, and I need to walk humbly and obediently in them, trusting that the good shepherd knows me and knows my way.

What about you. Are you keeping pace with Him?

Stop Telling Me to be Amazing

Post author:Gina B
Post published:January 31, 2015
Post category:expectations grace identity

Be Amazing

I saw a shirt at Old Navy once that said, “Be Amazing.”

It felt like way too much pressure. And that’s coming from an Enneagram 3. My husband says 3s are driven by “the need to be awesome.”

It might have felt that way because I was in the middle of power Christmas shopping that should have been spread out reasonably over 5 days, but had been crammed into one due to sickness.

That same sickness forced me to bow out of a speaking engagement and left my house a bit of a disaster (pro tip: if you keep wearing shoes in the house, you don’t feel all the stuff you haven’t swept off the floors). I was just proud to be upright and not in yoga pants.

It felt like that again later, on day 15 of my husband’s 16 day trip around the world (Lord, have mercy) when I was just happy that I was awake and communicative without the help of legal stimulants. We only ate 2 frozen pizzas and a deli chicken. This I call victory.

What the World Tells Us

It seems everywhere we look, we’re being told we can do it.

We can be amazing, and awesome, and over the top sparkling, beautiful, jaw-dropping.

Ordinary is for suckers. Lazy people. Those who don’t really care, who don’t want their lives to count. I shouldn’t just survive when my husband travels; I should thrive.

And we have our moments – all of us do. We have shining moments when we reflect the glory of God. We have red-letter days, it’s true.

But living there? Gosh, it’s exhausting. And truthfully, I don’t think it’s what the world needs.

What the world needs is not more amazing.

What the World Needs

The world needs people who are living and loving faithfully, authentically, with hope and perseverance and grace. People who have shining moments and messy moments and are ok with all of them. This is what our souls need too – we need the freedom to be who we are.

The world needs people who get up each day and choose to live the ordinary moments with trust that even this is significant.

We need people who accept who they are, with all their good and bad, beautiful and messy, all together. People who believe it’s all worth offering, and then offer it.

We were created for great works, but also for ordinary ones.

Sometimes we will amaze and other times we won’t. There’s nothing wrong with not being incredible at every moment. It’s called being human.

So please. Stop telling me to be amazing. Tell me just to be me, and I will gladly oblige.

Why I’m Grateful as I Swimsuit Shop

Related posts:

But the truth sets us free.

It’s good, this kind of transparency.

The fact is, these lines don’t exist.

We Are Both

We are glorious messes.

What the World Tells Us

What the World Needs