fear Archives - Gina Brenna Butz

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.

For the Moments When We’re Not Ready

Post author:Gina B
Post published:July 19, 2018
Post category:faith parenting transition

For the Moments We're Not Ready — Photo by Andrew Neel on Unsplash

“I’ve been waiting for this moment and now it’s here and I’m not ready.”

This is what my daughter said to me the night we sat in our car on a dark street, waiting for another soccer family to pick her up and take her away for a weekend tournament.

The weeks ahead of that one moment were marked with anxiety, not knowing the family well, wondering how she would do without me.

So often life feels like that. Moments we knew were inevitable, but we just aren’t ready for them.

I Wasn’t Ready Either

Back then, I wasn’t ready for our son to drive on his own (could I just always be in the back seat?). I wasn’t ready for colleges to send him invitations (back, vultures, back!). Our kids were gearing up to fly to South Africa (SOUTH AFRICA) without us on a mission trip for 6 weeks. Life just kept coming at us.

If I thought I felt unprepared then, how much more now, as those college invites DID come, and he just left? And his sister, who also just got her license, and a job, will follow him before we know it.

Life relentlessly marches on, and these moments that feel unbearable keep happening.

I Thought I Would Be Ready

When they were little, I thought I couldn’t wait for these moments. I couldn’t wait for them to do it on their own. I couldn’t wait for my time back. I couldn’t wait.

I’ve been waiting for this moment – the moment when our kids would grow up and stretch out, becoming independent, learning to live without us.

And now it’s here, and I’m not ready.

But just like I told her at that moment, He is with us.

He has brought us to this moment, and He will carry us through.

And just like I promised He would be with her in those moments when I wasn’t there, I have to tell myself the same truth – He will be with them when I am not.

When we said goodbye to our kids that day at the airport, our friend who accompanied them saw the fear in my eyes for my 14-year-old and gently said, “We’ve got her. She’ll be okay.” And she was.

We walked through that, and college applications, and teenage drivers, and we’ll get through this too.

He’s Always Ready

Sometimes we’re just not ready, but He is.

From that first day of kindergarten to the last day of the place you love.

The first scary step into a new dream, or the death of an old one.

The last goodbye.

The first anything.

[ictt-tweet-inline]He is more than enough for those moments we feel inadequate to face. [/ictt-tweet-inline]

The next season that feels so huge, scary, undesirable even, you will get through.

So we do it scared. But we never do it alone.

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you . . . for I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.” Isaiah 43: 2, 3

Looking Scary (When We’re Scared)

Post author:Gina B
Post published:October 26, 2017
Post category:courage faith

Do you know someone who is scary? You know, the kind of person who takes up a lot of space in the room. They’re intimidating. Their voices are loud. Words are strong.

Sometimes it’s the person you would least expect. It seems out of character. They aren’t like that in every day life, but something gets triggered and they suddenly look scary. What happened?

I wonder if it’s because they’re scared.

When we get scared, our behavior changes. Some of us hide, shrink back, disappear. But many of us get louder, stronger, and more controlling. We get big because we feel small.

I know I do it. It’s my way of covering what I fear.

It’s like the Wizard of Oz, crying, “Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain!” You know, the one furiously attempting to make himself look bigger than he is. The one projecting a scary image while in reality he is cowering where you can’t see him. Maybe then no one will notice that he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He doesn’t have what it takes. He’s scared out of his wits. Fear keeps him hidden, afraid to lose the relationship, his reputation, a sense of control.

Scary might make us feel protected, but it actually isolates us. It keeps others from seeing what is going on inside, and blocks the doorway for them to help us address what we fear. Scary keeps us scared.

What’s our invitation instead?

It helps me to remember anger is a secondary emotion. Like I said, we get big when we don’t want to feel small. Anger makes us feel bigger than the fear. When we recognize a rage that’s driving us to look scary, it’s a good signal to stop and examine our hearts. What are we afraid of? What feels threatened? When we own what it is that makes us scared, we can confront it, instead of pretending than we are bigger or stronger than we are.

Often we can’t overcome that fear on our own. We need others to step in and walk with us.

So we need to set down the scary mask and invite others in. Pull back the curtain and admit what is true. “I don’t know what to do. This is overwhelming. I feel weak, exposed, needy. I’m afraid of what’s happening here.”

The irony of the Wizard is that when he pulls back the curtain, he can offer so much more. Intimacy increases as he steps out from behind the scary image. Solutions are found. Relationships strengthen. Fear dissipates. We don’t have to be scary.

“For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline.”

Open the Door to Others

Post author:Gina B
Post published:October 19, 2017
Post category:courage relationships

“To open yourself to another person, to stop lying about your loneliness and your fears, to be honest about your affections, and to tell others how much they mean to you-this openness is the triumph of the child of God over the Pharisee and a sign of the dynamic presence of the Spirit.” (Brennan Manning, Abba’s Child).

We lie about our loneliness and our fears.

They are hidden beneath smiles, activity, and bravado. We ignore aches and push down anxieties because we believe the people who present themselves to others without these trappings are more acceptable, desirable, and welcome.

And that’s how the loneliness and fears grow. They lie to us about our worth. Their grip on us tightens and reinforces our distance from those who would really know our hearts.

Those lies battle with the truth that we need others, and the truth that real strength lies not in hiding, but in vulnerability. Life is not found behind closed doors.

In an unguarded moment not long ago, I moved toward a friend. I clung to a glimmer of hope that maybe I wasn’t alone; maybe she felt it too. We began a hesitant companionship, marked with vulnerability hangovers from fear we overshared. Several times one or the other of us nearly canceled a lunch date because the thought of baring ourselves felt too heavy. But slowly, we pushed past our fears toward each other.

After a while, we thought maybe we weren’t alone. Maybe other women wanted, needed, a place to be raw, real, seen, and heard too. So we invited a few. And they came.

Four of us are on a journey of opening to each other. Between work and travel and family, we carve out times together where we simply ask, “how are you?” and make space for more than rote answers.

We have, each of us, wondered if we fit in with the others.

As we open doors into deeper recesses of our hearts, we navigate fear.

We brave disappointing one another with our honest selves.

Together, we invite each other’s childlike selves to show up, share wounds that need care, and receive the tenderness and empathy we need. We share where our hearts are in the process of being awkwardly awake and alive to the mess of life, parenting, friendship, and ministry.

One week, a flurry of text messages appeared about getting together. I chimed in that I couldn’t come, and received no response. With a sinking feeling in my gut, I watched as they excitedly planned time without me.

The loneliness and fear called back to me, telling me how foolish it was to believe I could leave them behind. They whispered of my lack. Told me I was dispensable. Noted how quickly I was passed over.

When our group sat down in our booth at Panera the next week, I swallowed hard and spoke my lies. These friends listened, understood, and opened the door for me to reclaim my space with them.

The triumph of the child over the Pharisee often feels less like victory and more like heart thumping hope as we bring our true selves to each other, vulnerable and exposed.

I need these women, and they need me. While the enemy conspires with a thousand little lies to keep us from being open with others, the Spirit whispers to us that it is worth it, this baring of our souls.

He bids us come with our childlike selves, and believe there is a place for us.

Needing others is not weakness. It is not something to be despised or masked, but rather something to be embraced and celebrated.

There is a place for each of us. Open the door.

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.

What Will We Tell Our Children About These Tragedies?

Post author:Gina B
Post published:July 15, 2016
Post category:faith grief hope parenting

What Will We Tell Our Children About These Tragedies?

Our kids return tonight from a month long mission trip during which they have been out of contact and presumably unaware of all that is happening in the world. I wish the only thing I had to explain to them is why people are looking at their phones even more than usual, to the point of running into other people and walls and such.

Instead, after sending them off just after the Pulse shooting in our own city, we have to tell them that while they were gone, the nation was in uproar over the sudden deaths of two black men at the hands of police. We have to explain to them that during the protests that followed, five police officers were shot and killed. There were bombings in Baghdad and Turkey that killed over 300 people combined. And last night in France, more than 80 people were killed during a celebration. Lord, have mercy.

How do we deal out this information? How do we help them understand why? Part of me wants to shelter my kids from knowing the horror that this summer has brought, but they must know. They must know because we want them to be people of compassion, people of the world, people who enter in to the sorrow of others and weep with those who weep.

Will it make them fearful? I don’t know. Maybe. But I know the path to peace is not to ignore reality or choose to only see the parts of it that make us comfortable, that we agree with, that directly affects us. We cannot hide from the truth, but we can choose how we respond to it.

We can choose, as a family, to be people who cling to God. We can’t explain to our kids why all this is happening, but we can remind them that there is always hope because of who He is. We can cry out to Him for mercy, healing, strength, wisdom, compassion, guidance, help. We can be people who remember that this is not our home, He is.

So we will tell our children about the atrocities our world has seen this past month. We will tell them, not to make them fearful, but to make them aware that this is the world we live in. We will tell them that this is when we look up, not for answers, but for help, to navigate this world as people who love it well but hold it loosely.

We will cry together for the world. We will pray together for it. We will live, not in fear, but in hope, in trust, in faith. We will face the truth and respond by looking to the One who alone can save.

When Fear Is a Dictator

Post author:Gina B
Post published:July 4, 2016
Post category:anxiety courage faith peace

When Fear Is a Dictator

Confession: I have been afraid to write.

This is problematic, as I am obviously a blogger. I also have a mostly written book I sincerely hope to finish and have published.

This fear has been growing throughout the last year. It gnaws at me when I see my computer out of the corner of my eye. It pokes at me when I see other people tweeting links to wonderful posts others have written. It shuts down my thoughts. It keeps my fingers still.

It’s a fear that it won’t be enough. People won’t like what I write. It won’t draw the audience I hope it will. It will sit out there in the open like a sad, unpicked girl at a dance, while the other posts are grabbed by the hand and thrown from partner to partner.

Oh how I hate this fear. I hate the grip it has on my soul. I hate the way fear turns my eyes from God and onto me. I hate that it is a little dictator, barking at me to stay silent, to give up, to step out of the arena because if I can’t be as great as I hope I could be, then I should quit. It says it just isn’t worth it.

I’ve had enough of my little dictator.

I recently took a sabbatical from work, a time when I thought I would write more. Instead, I found God calling me first to wrestle this fear to the ground and give it a good dose of truth. It’s time to take these thoughts captive and make them obedient to Christ.

The truth is that my fear means my eyes are far too much on me. Fear makes me focus on finding my own glory, not His. Fear tells me to hustle for my worth. It demands I build a kingdom for myself, and at the same time tells me I’ll never be able to do it.

Fear loves to dictate the what, the how, the when, the how much, of our lives. It tells us to shut up. It demands that we stop trying. It tells us to shrink back and hang in the shadows of the brave places God calls us to live.

Fear whispers to us, as we stand on the edge of faith, of all that could go wrong. It takes our eyes off God and turns them to the what if’s, and maybe’s, and you’d better not’s, and what will people think’s.

It silences our voices and eventually our hearts.

So this morning I am turning my eyes back to Him.

I read today in Minding Your Emotions, “We handle fear by going from self-made to God-made, from self-important to God-honoring, from self-satisfied to God-soaked, from self-preoccupied to God-dazzled.”

There it is – I go from me to Him. I tell fear the truth that this is God’s kingdom, not mine. I tell it that I don’t have to make a kingdom for myself because this is the place where I’m already valued and free. I tell it that I’m going to step out in faith anyway because it’s not about my glory after all – it’s about His.

He strips fear of its power over us.

I’m asking Him to not let fear be my dictator, but to let His Spirit be my guide.

How is fear your dictator?

Do It Scared

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

He Makes Me Brave

Post author:Gina B
Post published:March 28, 2016
Post category:courage faith

I recently started a new role in our ministry, and I find myself again in uncomfortable places.

They’re uncomfortable because they are unfamiliar. I’m being introduced to people I don’t know as someone who has something to offer. I don’t know how they will respond to my ideas, my actions, if they want what I have to give.

They’re uncomfortable places because I’m scared. I might fail. I might ask questions that reveal my ignorance. I might get in over my head.

They’re uncomfortable because I don’t always know what to do, because people outside of my family are relying on me for work and that hasn’t happened for a long time.

It all requires me to be braver than I am.

I have this idea that being brave means having no fear, but I know that’s not true. It means walking into those uncomfortable places despite the fear.

Brave is showing up. Brave is trying, even if you might fail. Brave is offering what you have, whether or not you know it’s what someone wants. Brave is uncomfortable.

I so wish it weren’t. I wish I could jump to the place where I feel like I know what I’m doing, and I am confident that I add value by what I do. But there is no growth without being brave, and there is no brave without discomfort.

Thankfully, I don’t have to do brave on my own. God is the one who calls me to give what I have in uncomfortable places. He makes me brave.

He is the one who goes before me, who sustains me, who catches me when I fall. Because of Him, the uncomfortable places become places where His glory shines, where I become less and He becomes more.

“It is God who arms me with strength and keeps my way secure. He makes my feet like the feet of a deer; he causes me to stand on the heights. He trains my hands for battle; my arms can bend a bow of bronze. You make your saving help my shield; your help has made me great.” (2 Samuel 22:33-36)

Do It Scared

Do It Scared

Post author:Gina B
Post published:March 6, 2014
Post category:anxiety courage

So I have this ambition to write a book about transition. I’m good at ambition – I’m ambitious about a lot of things. But most of those things are within my grasp, private, typical. Or if they aren’t, no one knows about them anyway, so they don’t know that I failed.

In this, success or failure is not something I can call. It’s something others will call. Let me tell you: that terrifies me.

So I find excuses not to write. The house is dirty. I’m tired. I don’t have enough time to really get into it right now. I need to do this project for work instead. I should write a blog post (ahem).

Why? I’m afraid that when I sit down, nothing will come. Or I’ll look at it and say, “What on earth am I even trying to say here? This doesn’t make sense!” Or I won’t have enough material. Or maybe, after all my hard work, it will still fail.

I think I keep hoping that it will magically write itself. I’m discovering that my voice recorder on my phone is my best writing friend – this book might just be written in 30 second sound bites that hit me on the 417 or in the last waking moments of the day. Still, somehow those thoughts need to get organized and put down on actual paper, and that is what I have on my plan this morning.

Which brings me back to scared. But I’ve decided that my motto right now is “do it scared.” Stop waiting to feel confident or motivated or full of ideas or like you aren’t terrified to make this dream a reality. Courage isn’t the absence of fear. It’s doing it despite the fear.

What are you doing scared today?

What God Doesn’t Need Us to Tell Him

God already knows

For the Moments When We’re Not Ready

I Wasn’t Ready Either

I Thought I Would Be Ready

He’s Always Ready

Looking Scary (When We’re Scared)

What’s our invitation instead?

Open the Door to Others

Related posts:

How to Swimsuit Shop without Shame

Why I’m Grateful as I Swimsuit Shop

Related posts:

What Will We Tell Our Children About These Tragedies?

When Fear Is a Dictator

I’ve had enough of my little dictator.

It silences our voices and eventually our hearts.

He strips fear of its power over us.

I Don’t Need Rescuing (Except I Do)

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

He Makes Me Brave

Do It Scared