boundaries Archives - Gina Brenna Butz

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?

Our Anchor in Transition

Post author:Gina B
Post published:April 20, 2013
Post category:faith transition

I have this picture in my head today of me in a tiny rowboat on a vast ocean. I know I’ve talked about boats a lot through our transition, but it’s fitting – we are on a journey.

So back to my rowboat. Imagine me in a tiny rowboat, riding the waves, and as I look around I see nothing recognizable in any direction. In fact, forget the boat – it’s actually more like a raft, Castaway style. Except unlike Tom Hanks I have not, at any point of this move, made a disemboweled volleyball my best friend and confidante. I am, thankfully, still far from that. Praise be to God.

We want life to be like a swimming pool. We want something manageable, something with defined edges, something with a dimension that doesn’t wear us out. The walls of the pool are the roles and relationships we form that give boundaries to who we are. We can stretch out on an inner tube and enjoy.

Any kind of transition – getting married, becoming a parent, changing jobs, kids leaving home, moving across town – will affect the roles and relationships we have. They stretch our boundaries – maybe to an Olympic size pool, maybe a lake, maybe the whole big ocean. We have to learn to reorient ourselves, to manage this different shape. We need to find those places where we can rest, to become familiar with the edges again.

And so there’s me, imagining the ocean around me with no land in sight. I long for the edges, the boundaries, the things that make me go, “Oh right, this is where I am, where I belong, who I am, what I’m capable of.” My temptation is to look around, paddle frantically, screaming, “WILSON!!” I find myself looking to others to tell me “here’s land.” I seek affirmation, acknowledgement, value, to make me feel solid again.

But the fact is, those things we think give us definition are ultimately not what define us at all. They are merely temporary boundaries, these roles and relationships God gives us for seasons. What we need, what I need, to remember, is that regardless of the size of my current situation, my identity comes from Him. He is the anchor who tells me, “I know you. I see you. You are mine. That is all you need.”

And in this, transition is a gift. It’s an opportunity to have all that I might depend on be stripped away, and to be called back (more frequently than I usually need) to who I am in Him. The truth of who I am in Him is a constant, grounding me regardless of the depth of water or the distance from land.