dependence Archives - Gina Brenna Butz

One Hurdle at a Time

Post author:Gina B
Post published:January 9, 2020
Post category:courage faith truth

Publishing a book is a daunting process.

It’s a little like running hurdles. You keep running the race, and then along the way, there are tasks that ask more of you. Each hurdle requires a measure of courage, grit, and humility. Any one of them has the potential for failure or rejection.

It seems the further we go in any endeavor, the more hurdles we face. The challenges get greater. They ask more of us than we may think we can offer.

While it can be exhilarating to pass one and realized, “I made it!” the journey itself can be tiring and anxiety-producing.

I had one of those hurdles earlier in the process. My marketing director (how did I get a marketing director?) called to talk about my launch team. Big hurdle.

So I prayed. A lot. I prayed that I wouldn’t feel overwhelmed. I prayed I wouldn’t feel behind. Walking into that phone call I knew I needed to remember Whose I am and how much He is with me and for me, no matter what.

And I wasn’t alone. I asked others to pray for me too. They too prayed that God would give me what I needed to jump that next hurdle.

And you know what? It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be, thanks to God and others. I felt their strength and encouragement (and it helps that my marketing director is a great person who is for me).

Crossing Each Hurdle

When the temptation to be overwhelmed arises, I have to stop and do a little soul work. I acknowledge the lies that are creeping in-that I have to prove myself, that people are watching and waiting for me to mess up, that I am alone in this.

Then I feed my soul the truth of who I am, and remind myself that this is for His glory, not mine. I look at my day and say, “God, what do you have for me to do today? Will you give me what I need to do it?”

I think this is what Jesus meant when he talked about daily bread. And not worrying about tomorrow. Casting all your cares. Taking up your cross daily and following Him. That the truth will set us free. This is where the rubber meets the road.

While it’s tempting to look ahead and see the whole race, I’m reminded that He gives us just enough for today. For this hurdle. This thing that feels like it’s more than we can do, He walks with us. He strengthens.

A New Year of Hurdles

As we venture into this new year, there will be hurdles. There will be things that ask more of us than we think we have. More of us than we do have.

Thank God we don’t have to do it alone. May this be a year of daily, peace-filled dependence on the One who gives us manna. May we stay close enough that we feel His breath, close enough that help is never far away. He speaks truth to our inmost parts, giving us what we need to do what He’s called us to do.

What God Doesn’t Need Us to Tell Him

Post author:Gina B
Post published:August 2, 2018
Post category:anxiety dependence on God faith prayer

Sitting in a time of silence one morning, I felt led to pray for our son. In the words that poured out, I sounded like I was informing God of our son’s situation. Like He didn’t know.

I do this sometimes. Talk to God about my life like He needs more information. Like if only He really knew what was going on, He would spring into action in a way He seems to not be.

Alongside this news briefing is a desire to get God to care as much about the situation as I do.

As if He doesn’t.

I beg God to love my kids as much as I do. Care about this crisis in my life as much as I do. As though He’s indifferent.

Why do we do this? Why do we pray this way? God is not a sleeping giant we must rouse to compassion and action on our behalf. He doesn’t come help the ones who scream the loudest and seem the neediest.

God already knows

He is able to do more than we ask or imagine. We are engraved on the palm of his hands. Nothing escapes Him. He’s got this. He’s got us.

Even the care we feel about our part of the world pales in comparison to how He loves it. He IS love. I can’t say that about myself, even toward those who most have my heart. He aches for what we love, more than we ever could.

May that perspective fuel our prayers.

[ictt-tweet-inline]Rather than screaming for God’s attention, may we sink into the awesome awareness that we already have it. [/ictt-tweet-inline]The hairs on our head numbered. His thoughts of us more than the grains of sand on the shores of the world.

Every one of those thoughts fueled by love, goodness, compassion, grace, mercy. Fortified with wisdom, power, insight, sovereignty.

Then our prayers won’t be us waving our arms to be seen but raising them in praise and gratitude. Instead of wringing our hands, we open them to release these things we love and hold so tightly. Rather than pleading, our prayers will bring us to peace and perspective.

We join in with what He’s already doing for our people, the world. Step into the confidence that comes from knowing He is at work. Rejoice that our hearts are known, and already His plans are laid for us. He doesn’t need us to tell him anything. He just needs us to trust.

How to Avoid Being Poor in Spirit

Post author:Gina B
Post published:January 25, 2018
Post category:dependence on God faith

“The poor in spirit . . . have made peace with their flawed existence.”

I remember reading this quote from Brennan Manning when I was barely out of college. It did not sit well. Poor in spirit? Doesn’t sound fun. Flawed existence? Eesh.

But he spent a lot of time talking about being poor in spirit in his book The Ragamuffin Gospel. While he spoke of it as something to emulate, it brought to mind worthlessness, weakness, helplessness, being lesser. I wanted none of that. When I read in the beatitudes that the poor in spirit inherit the kingdom of God, I thought, “well, at least they get something out of it.”

Fast forward 20 years, and I can’t say that in the interim being poor in spirit was something I even thought about. Until now.

This phrase, “poor in spirit”-I can’t get away from it. When I mention it to others, they say, “That’s not good, right?”

We don’t want to be poor in spirit. I have wondered what it really looks like. So I’ll start with what I know-how to not be poor in spirit.

How to avoid being poor in spirit

If we want to avoid being poor in spirit, we take everything for granted. Believe that whatever we have, we deserve. We have a right to it. That includes religious freedom, answers to prayer, a smaller waistline (c’mon 2018). Come to think of it, we should include salvation in that. After all, we’re decent people.

We should also get the glory for where we are in life. We have gifts and we used them, simple as that. Give us some credit.

Of course, we should rely on our own resources. Don’t admit need or ask for help. We don’t want to be a burden to anyone. People like you better when you pull yourself up by your own bootstraps, right?

Naturally, we should maintain some semblance of control. We can do it all and have it all if we just exercise enough autonomy over our circumstances.

We should be underwhelmed by life in general. The sun comes up every day-no need to be wowed by it every time. If people are kind, loving, generous, or gracious to us, just accept it. No need for gratitude.

But if we do all this, we lose the kingdom.

I don’t know about you, but I’m done being underwhelmed. Relying on myself hasn’t gotten me far. Everything I have is a gift, and I want to treat it as such. There but for the grace of God go I, in every single thing. I want that truth to permeate my being.

So what does it look like to be poor in spirit? Here’s where I’m starting:

The poor in spirit are humble. The truth is we have nothing apart from God, and everything with Him. When we are poor in spirit, we own our brokenness and our wholeness, and see ourselves rightly before God and others. We make peace with our flawed existence.

The poor in spirit are generous. If we know nothing we have is ours to begin with, we won’t hold tightly to it. Instead, we will be open-handed, giving and receiving freely. Beggars showing other beggars where to find bread.

The poor in spirit are grateful. When we remember that nothing originates from us, and yet we are swimming in blessing, how can we not be thankful? The first breath we breathe every morning, the work we do, the people we love, the fact that we have purpose, joy, peace, salvation-it is all an undeserved gift.

The poor in spirit are dependent. Dependent not only God but on others. Our weaknesses will not drive us to hide but to lean. Daily bread will be our food, limping our stance, and all without shame.

I want the kingdom.

So this is my intention for 2018: to live out what it means to be poor in spirit. I’m still learning what it means, but I’m going to start with this: humble, generous, grateful, and dependent.

What about you? What is your intention for 2018?

The Illusion of Having It All Together

Post author:Gina B
Post published:November 15, 2017
Post category:dependence on God faith identity trials

Early in our time overseas, I thought I had it all together. I was busy balancing raising two preschoolers, learning a second language, living overseas, and having a personal ministry, with joy. I looked like Super Mom, but it was an illusion. Then God, in His mercy, shattered it.

In the fall of 2004, we moved to Singapore. Both our kids stopped napping at the same time. I no longer had household help. The first time my husband traveled that fall, he returned to a house that looked like a tornado hit it.

“What did you do while I was gone?” he asked me.

“How about we decide right now that’s a question you don’t get to ask me,” I responded (not one of our finest marriage interactions).

I was never Super Mom; I was just an over-functioning, bone-weary mom (with a maid). Then I started homeschooling (Jesus, take the wheel). Soon after that, allergies took over my life, forcing me to spend most days in an itchy, sneezing fog. I couldn’t keep it together any more. Gina came undone.

What a blessing.

God led me to feel my desperate need for Him. I was confronted daily by my own inadequacy, lostness, pride, and self-sufficiency (God is so not impressed with that quality, unfortunately).

It was one of the hardest and most frustrating seasons of my life. Many times I sided with Rich Mullins when he sang, “I can’t see where you’re leading me, unless you’ve led me here, to where I’m lost enough to let myself be led.”

The illusion of having it all together was just that-an illusion.

But as my illusion fell away, to my surprise, others drew closer. They met me in my need. When I showed them my lack of togetherness, they were gracious. They gave me a new place to rest, and even (dare I hope?) seemed to love me more.

As my friend Holly Sheldon once said, “People don’t draw close to strength. They admire it, respect it, but don’t draw near to it.“

[ictt-tweet-inline]Having it all together may impress, but it doesn’t invite.[/ictt-tweet-inline] And we need to extend an invitation to others, an invitation in to what is true about us: we are messy, weak, needy humans. Not super human. Just human, like everyone else.

And when we extend the invitation to others to see that we are, in fact, undone, we give others the freedom to be undone as well. We can all step out from behind the curtain and own what is true. Together sigh a breath of relief that we can set the illusion aside.

Letting go of our illusion invites God in too. There, He can sort out our messy places. Be strength in our weakness. Fill our needs. Help us be human.

None of us really has it together. Oh, we can try to keep up that illusion. But why? There is freedom, love, and rest on the other side. Let yourself come undone.

Tell Me the Truth

Post author:Gina B
Post published:June 26, 2016
Post category:poetry truth

Tell Me the Truth

It’s important to tell ourselves the truth, but sometimes, we need others to do it for us.

During this time of sabbatical, I have been reminded how desperately reliant I am on God and His truth, and how challenging it can be for me to invite others to carry me in the journey. Years ago, during a time of burnout, God spoke to me about this very need (so you could say I’m something of a slow learner). He led me to write this poem. Consider it an invitation to do this for me (and others) when you see the need arise:

Tell Me

Tell me the truth
about myself

Tell me things that free me
from the worry cage I’ve built

Tell me the upside-down things
that correct the world’s twisted weavings

Tell me there are rocks to rest on
so I can come in from the storm

Tell me things that breathe new life
into this valley of dry bones

Tell me again to draw my sword
to cut through the enemy attacks on my soul

They say there are no easy answers
And I know.

But there is One who answers still.

Tell me what He would say
when I’m weak and lonely and tired.

Tell me to listen to Him.

Tell me
because sometimes I forget.

I Don’t Need Rescuing (Except I Do)

Post author:Gina B
Post published:June 7, 2016
Post category:anxiety dependence on God faith loved

There are people in the world who like to rescue others. There are others who look for someone to rescue them. And there are people like me, who think, “I don’t need rescuing, thank you very much.”

Except I do. I very much do.

I try, though. Oh, how I try.

I try to hold it together. Keep up the appearance of competence. I master self-sufficiency and ignore my needs and emotions for the sake of keeping it going. Deceive myself into thinking that rescuing is for someone else. My energy goes to rescuing the ones who can’t quite manage it on their own, who don’t have their stuff together.

I’m like a soldier on the battlefield who tries valiantly to press on despite repeated arrows, “Tis but a flesh wound.” Asking for help is out of the question.

But underneath this lie that I don’t need rescuing is not strength. It’s fear.

It’s a fear that if I call for help, no one’s coming. The fear is grounded in those lies of too much and not enough. It says there is no one who cares enough to offer their strength, no one stronger willing to step in. I fight for myself because I fear no one will fight for me.

I’m partway through a much-needed sabbatical. In the first days, as my soul slowed down, this is the fear that rose to the surface. It is the source of much of my anxiety and restlessness, my need to control my world. As I have turned it over and over, examining its root, I see it for the lie that it is.

Because there is Someone coming for me. There is One whose strength is always greater, who longs to rescue, who calls me to be the child I am and rest in Him.

When I feel weak, helpless, and incompetent, I can step off the battlefield and just receive; no need to press on, because He can take care of it, can take care of me.

He is calling me to deeper, dependent prayer, as I recognize those moments when I am tempted to take back the weight of the world on my shoulders.

He calls me to the images in scripture of our God who is our strong tower, our rock of refuge, our Savior, letting them speak grace into my tired places. I am so grateful for this fear to come to light, so that God can speak His words of life and truth to replace it.

“Because she loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue her; I will protect her, for she acknowledges my name. She will call upon me, and I will answer her. I will be with her in trouble. I will deliver her and honor her. With long life will I satisfy her and show her my salvation.” – Psalm 91:14-16

The Battle Belongs to Him

I Am Not My Child’s Savior

Post author:Gina B
Post published:February 29, 2016
Post category:dependence on God faith growth trials

I Am Not My Child's Savior

I am not my child’s savior.

This thought occurred to me yesterday as I walked around our neighborhood. Pondering the fact that our daughter’s team, playing in a tournament an hour away, was not doing well, left me unsettled.

First game was a bust. Second game they knocked two in the goal in the first ten minutes, but let their lead slip away into a tie game. Those two games meant advancing was impossible, regardless of the outcome of the final game. Our daughter walked away from the second game in tears.

Nothing is more important to her right now than this sport. All her future hopes are wrapped up in this. And while we both know that the hold on her heart is too strong, I remind myself it is not my job to make sure her dream doesn’t die. It’s not my job to make it all better. All my unsettledness was because I could. not. fix it.

Oh, but that’s what I want to do. Take away the pain. Erase the loss and disappointment. We all want that. We want wins, and good grades, and close friends, and safety. Eliminate everything that could hurt our kids.

So I set myself up in the position of savior in her heart.

Why We Try to Save

It’s heady stuff to have a person who thinks you can do anything. We slip into the superman complex because it makes us feel good about ourselves that we can be the rescuer, the savior, the protector.

Maybe if we just stay close enough, say the right words, step in at just the right moments, we can fend off disasters. We believe the lie that we can control their worlds.

It feels right. It feels like love, to protect others from pain. But then I look at God and His word and I remember that the path to maturity always involves suffering. It makes us like Him.

Ultimately, apart from putting way too much pressure on ourselves to be more to them than we can be, saving our kids takes away the opportunity for them to look to the real Savior, to learn to rely on Him and receive from Him what they need in times of struggle.

Why We Shouldn’t Save

Being away from my daughter this weekend was hard, but so good for her. She needs me to get out of the way so that she can learn to lean on the One who is always there, who knows the value of failure, loss, loneliness, and pain to mold a heart into His image, and whose wise hands guide her in ways I never could.

We do our people a disservice when we don’t encourage them to turn to Him in times of fear, hurt, discouragement. Our lives are meant to be lived in dependence on Him. Pain is a pathway to that dependence.

“It helps to resign as the controller of your fate. All that energy we expend to keep things running right is not what’s keeping things running right.” Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird

All that energy we spend trying to keep others’ lives running right is not what keeping things running right for them. In fact, it might just be what keeps them from Him.

So let’s resign as the controllers, the rescuers, the saviors of our children. Let’s trust the true Savior and teach our children to look to Him in times of trial.

Promises to My Children

The Soul Needs

Post author:Gina B
Post published:April 1, 2015
Post category:dependence on God faith word of the year

My husband traveled 4 out of the first six weeks of this year. I’ve built up some pretty strong “traveling husband” muscles over the years, but I have to admit it wore me down. I felt needy.

I don’t like to feel needy. Needy feels small and weak and helpless, which is scary. It feels vulnerable. What if no one wants to help me? What if they look down on me for my neediness?

Needy gets a bad rap in our world. We glorify people who are strong, self-sufficient, wildly capable, not a “burden.” We are impressed with them. You know who isn’t? God.

I have searched scripture, and never once have I found a verse where God says something to the effect of, “Well done, good and faithful servant! You have managed to pull yourself up by your own boot straps and to rely on no one, not even Me! I’m proud of you for not asking anyone to step in and minister to you in your weakness. Enter your rest, you’ve earned it!”

Which is such a bummer, because I’m really good at all of that.

We tend to respond to tough situations by working harder, toughing it up, slogging through, as though God gives us tough circumstances to see how strong we can be. He doesn’t. He wants to bring us to weakness. He wants us to own our neediness.

Neediness doesn’t mean we’ve failed. It means we’re human.

What always gets me about Jesus is his humanity. He got tired. Hungry. Lonely. Overwhelmed. He knew need. He knew hard. He calls us to own our humanity as He did.

So I’m learning, in those needy times, to say it out loud. Not to complain about it, but to call it what it is. And to invite others in to walk with me.

I’ve written about a lot of the needs of the soul, but the bottom line that we have to own is that the soul is needy. Period. The end. It looks different on different days, but the fact is: We have needy souls.

It’s how He made us. And the beauty of it is that we can answer each others’ needs with love and grace. This is the gift we have in the fellowship of believers.

[ictt-tweet-inline]Is your soul needy today? Bring it to Jesus. [/ictt-tweet-inline]Bring it to others. The soul needs. It’s meant to need. And others are meant to meet it.

“Carry each others’ burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.” Galatians 6:2

Crossing Each Hurdle

A New Year of Hurdles

Related posts:

God already knows

How to avoid being poor in spirit

But if we do all this, we lose the kingdom.

I want the kingdom.

The illusion of having it all together was just that-an illusion.

But underneath this lie that I don’t need rescuing is not strength. It’s fear.

Why We Try to Save

Why We Shouldn’t Save