grace Archives - Page 2 of 2 - Gina Brenna Butz

Grace for the Less Than Ideal Days

Post author:Gina B
Post published:September 15, 2016
Post category:expectations grace rest

Some days, you end up eating dinner with a My Little Pony fork. And that’s ok.

It’s the time of year when a lot of activities start up again and with them, adjustment of schedules and coordination of details. It’s “who’s driving whom,” and “when will we eat,” and “oh right, we have a dog-did anyone feed the dog today?” (answer: probably not. That could explain why she’s staring at me so hard).

Strategic is one of my Strengths Finder top 5, so I tackle life like I’m playing a game of Tetris. Sometimes, I’m just not fast enough to make the pieces fit right.

Like Wednesday. It started out well, but when I got home at 4:30 and realized all that needed to occur before taking the kids to youth group by 7, I thought, “not gonna happen.”

My ideal scenario

Here’s my ideal scenario: dinner planned and ready by 6. Husband at home eating with us, at the table, with real plates and silverware, and engaging conversation. Dog walked, sheets out of the dryer and back on our bed. The dishwasher already clean and unloaded. Homework done and checked.

Instead, we ate dinner in the car out of plastic bowls on the way to youth group, so our car smelled like onions the rest of the night. My husband walked in the door, changed, helped with two pre-calc questions, and walked back out the door. The neighbor walked the dog. The sheets stayed in the dryer. There was still homework to be done. The last half hour before leaving I bordered on Tasmanian Devil mode. Which brings me to the My Little Pony fork-it was the only one left.

We all have pictures of our ideal life. We know how we want our relationships to be, how we want to conduct ourselves, run our homes, succeed at work and parenting and ministry and whatever fills our space.

But some days reality doesn’t match our ideals. For those days, there’s grace.

It’s tempting to stress when my ideals crumble to pieces. But as Anne Lamott says, “Perfectionism will keep you insane your whole life.”

So it’s life-giving to remember that especially when our lives take a different shape, there’s grace. We need lower expectations. Remember to breathe and laugh and know that it will work itself out eventually. We need to pick up the My Little Pony fork and call it good.

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Let’s Be the Grace Givers

We Need to Stop Hitting Ourselves

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.

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Let’s Be the Grace Givers

Post author:Gina B
Post published:June 20, 2016
Post category:grace

I have become known among the soccer parents as the Mom Who Febreezes Her Child.

This information slipped during a tournament weekend when another mom lamented that she would have to wash her daughter’s uniform overnight.

I informed her that I would do no such thing – Febreeze to the rescue! Our children know this trick so well that I don’t have to say anything. That night, sure enough, our daughter’s uniform lay neatly on her floor, soaking in a layer of Febreeze.

Giving Ourselves Permission

You could say this is me being lazy, but I say it’s permission to let ourselves off the hook. Life’s too short and there’s so much that’s more important than my child having a clean, fresh smelling uniform she’s only going to re-stink the next day.

I didn’t use to live this way. There was a time I would have cared about how that uniform looked and smelled. If I didn’t wash it, I certainly wouldn’t have admitted to Febreezing it.

But at some point, I realized there’s a great deal of freedom and joy to be found in letting go of appearances and bringing out the dirty laundry, both literally and figuratively. And I don’t know about you, but freedom and joy are so much more appealing than exhaustion and anxiety over what others think.

I’m happy to give this permission to others. Not only does it give them grace, but it reminds me that I am better off living in grace too.

Sure, maybe they’re secretly judging me, but that’s ok. I’m living shame-free over here. Try it – it’s great! Grace is something I need more and more in my own life, and I find great joy in being able to give that grace to others.

We need grace so much, but we don’t speak it out.

I want to be the kind of person who sees where I need grace, where others need grace, and gives it lavishly.

Let’s be the grace givers.

Start with yourself, and see how it spills over. Let’s be known as the ones who give ourselves and others permission to let go of that which is, in the end, not significant, so we can pour our energy and our hearts into what is worth our lives.

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Why We Should Fall More Often

Post author:Gina B
Post published:March 24, 2015
Post category:courage faith grace growth

When It's Good to Fall — photo by Gina Butz

“I don’t want to fall.”
“I did it without falling!”
“I can’t end the day on a fall!”

These are the kinds of phrases that frequently came out of our kids’ mouths last week as we braved the ski hills of Vermont. To them, the goal is not to fall. In fact, a fall in their minds negates anything that came before it. Falling is ruinous.

I confess, that’s often my main objective too. At the very least, I don’t want to fall when small children are deftly skiing past me. Or watching me from the chair lift. So I happily stay on the hills that boast “Slow. Ski Learning Area” signs. No shame.

But when our focus is on not falling, something happens to us mentally. Fear increases. Enjoyment decreases. We take fewer risks. Stick to the smaller hills. We miss out.

Our falls begin to define how we view the day, rather than being blips in an otherwise fun time. They tell us we have failed, rather than informing a better way to ski.

I wish this problem stuck to the ski hills. Too often we take this stance in life. A fear of falling gives us tunnel vision. We don’t want people to look, laugh, judge. We want to do it well every time. Looking at the risk causes us to pull back. We forget that we’re still learning to do life, and that with bigger challenges comes bigger potential for mistakes, failure, and stumbling. Most of all, we forget that falling is actually a good sign.

Falling means we’re trying. It means we’re going out of our comfort zones. We’re braving the harder paths, forging new places where we’re not sure. Falling is a natural part of learning to do anything – walking, running, biking, skiing, parenting, loving, writing, friendship, life. Falling is good because it is proof that we are living openly.

So where do we need to risk falling today?

“Dear, dear Corinthians, I can’t tell you how much I long for you to enter this wide-open, spacious life. We didn’t fence you in. The smallness you feel comes from within you. Your lives aren’t small, but you’re living them in a small way. I’m speaking as plainly as I can and with great affection. Open up your lives. Live openly and expansively!” 2 Corinthians 6:11, The Message

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The Soul Needs Comfy Pants

Post author:Gina B
Post published:March 18, 2015
Post category:grace peace rest word of the year

I’m sitting in front of a fire at a ski resort in Vermont, wearing a giant scarf, an oversized sweater, two pairs of socks, and my favorite Lucky Brand jeans. They’re my go to pants, the ones I’d wear every day if it were socially acceptable.

It’s these or my yoga pants that I look to for days when I just want to be comfortable. We all need comfy pants – the ones we slip on when we just want to relax, let it all hang out, be ourselves.

Our souls need comfy pants.

Last week I spent time working with a group of five other coaches, all of us involved in a week-long intensive leadership coaching program. It was emotional work, rewarding but draining. The best part of it for me was being with people who know the real me and welcome it. In short, my soul was comfortable.

Sometimes it’s people like that, or like our new small group with three other couples. There, we all show up with our doubts and questions and struggles and we wrestle together about issues of faith, and everyone’s ok with whatever is brought. Or it’s the friends who sit down with me and look me in the eye and ask, “How are you?” and really mean it, and my soul breathes a deep sigh.

Or it’s the long walk in the woods with my dog, or the book of quotes I have that remind me who I truly am, or the new playlist on my phone filled with songs that restore me. These are places where my soul finds comfort.

In a world that so often raises the bar too high, then judges us for failing it, we need comfy pants for our souls. We need to be able to relax, breathe, let down our barriers, settle into who we really are and be received. We need a place to curl up by a fire away from the bitter cold. We need comfort.

Where does your soul find comfort?

The Soul Needs Space

The Soul Needs Gentleness

Post author:Gina B
Post published:February 19, 2015
Post category:grace loved

I have been accused, more than once in my life, of being “too hard on myself.” I will not deny this. However, speaking on behalf of all the people in the world who tend to be hard on themselves, it isn’t helpful. What we generally hear when people say that is, “You’re too hard on yourself. You shouldn’t be too hard on yourself. Stop doing that,” which we will add to the long list of activities we are already should-ing ourselves about.

I know, it’s messed up.

I can be hard on my soul. And while pushing myself might help me accomplish more, it’s not life-giving.

My soul needs gentleness.

This is what God has been whispering to me the last few weeks, “Be gentle with yourself” and I say, “that sound like a great idea, God. What does that look like?”

Being gentle with my soul looks like grace. It looks like taking a deep breath and enjoying the moment. It looks like letting go of the should’s and ought’s and could have’s. It looks like smiling at the mistakes and moving on. It looks like compassion for ourselves.

This week, for me, it’s looked like seeing the to do list still undone at the end of the day and saying, “It’s ok.” It’s looked like turning around and apologizing for a quick word and forgiving myself in the process. It’s looked like saying, “You’re enough.”

So what could you say that would be helpful to the “too hard” crowd? Maybe the question, “I wonder what it would look like for you to be gentle with yourself right now?” However you say it, do it gently. Our souls need it.

What does gentle look like for you?

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The Soul Needs to Be Seen

Dogs, Deer, and What Drives My Heart

Post author:Gina B
Post published:November 15, 2013
Post category:growth personal

Living where we do, we see a lot of deer. I mean a lot. Like to the point where it’s almost blasé to see them. They’re more common than squirrels.

Enter Scout. It’s always been our dream that our dog could run freely in the yard without an unsightly fence to keep her in. We installed an invisible fence and trained her to stay within the boundaries.

The problem is, she’s a smart pup. She knows when she’s not wearing that big ugly collar. Typically she’s still content to stay in the yard, but when she sees deer, all bets are off. She’ll come back later muddy, tired, and happy.

Enter the “deervangelist,” one of our neighbors. He loves the deer seemingly more than anything. One of his three lots is devoted to their comfort and feeding. When we first arrived in the neighborhood, he came over and gave us an earful about how we need to do our part to protect the deer. He even showed us a photo album of them. In some pictures they were eating food out of his mouth. Can I get a collective “ew”?

So my stage is set. Last week, Scout bolted and found her way to the deervangelist’s empty lot where the deer had retreated for safety. Within a few minutes, I got another visit from my neighbor telling me that I need to do a better job of keeping my dog in our yard, as well as another offer to see the pictures. I declined.

The next day, she was off again. This time, while I waited for another visit, it was my neighbor to the north (the one I have only ever heard yelling) who called for me to get my #$%& dog out of his yard. Thankfully she came back on her own.

And that was when my heart sank a little into shame. Why? It took me awhile to understand it myself, but it all goes back to what drives me. If you read my last post about houses, you know that I like success. I like performing well. The dog/deer combination made it challenging for me to do that. In fact, they were (in my mind) making me look like a failure. I had been called out twice in two days as someone incompetent in restraining her pet.

The upside of this is the fact that God helped me see it. Oftentimes we sink into shame and we don’t recognize it or acknowledge it. In my experience, when that happens, it can make me more likely to interpret the rest of my day through the same lens. Instead, I was able to do a little self-talk about the whole situation that helped me let it go. I’m thankful that I’ve been growing in seeing what drives my heart and how to respond with grace.

A dog and some deer. You never know what God will use.

At Least I’m Doing It

Post author:Gina B
Post published:October 28, 2013
Post category:31 Days of Victory

I wish I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard someone make the comment, “You homeschool? Oh I could never do that. I’m not patient enough.”

Oh, is that what I’m supposed to have? Excuse me, then, I’m clearly in the wrong line of work.

I don’t know if I’ve ever had a job that asked more of me than parenting. Perhaps that’s why it’s easy to want to escape to something we feel like we do better, or at least something less demanding. It’s hard to stay in the midst of it sometimes, wholeheartedly, holding tight, giving it your all, let alone doing it victoriously.

But I’m realizing that staying in it is itself a victory. It’s saying, “You know what? Half the time I’m not really sure what I’m doing, but I love you so much that I’m going to keep doing it and trust that God will use what I give and pour grace over all the rest. I will keep pressing on because this is worth it.”

I was reminded sometime during the day of an old episode of Friends, where Monica (the one who certainly wanted to do it all the right way) takes a tap-dancing class.

When she first tries, she fails pretty miserably. By the end of the episode, she decides to go back and try again. I wanted to post the clip for it, but I couldn’t find it. Here’s the dialogue though:

Teacher: You by the door. In or out?

Monica : In. [She joins in the dancing. She still flounders]

Teacher: You in the back, you’re getting it all wrong!

Monica : Yeah, but at least I’m doing it!

Was I getting it all wrong today? No, not really. Probably sometimes – that’s just parenting. But at least I was doing it. That’s a victory in itself.

What are you calling victory today?

Just Grace

Post author:Gina B
Post published:October 7, 2013
Post category:31 Days of Victory grace

I am not a spontaneous person. I’m not free spirited. I like plans, routines, to do lists. Sometimes, I wish this weren’t true about me. I’d like to be more relaxed and just take life as it comes, but I’ve learned that I function best when I stick to what I know. God made me a planner, and it is good.

So yesterday I took time to plan out my week. I made menu plans, scheduled activities, even wrote tasks for each day. I felt good, because I knew that when I do that I put my time into the things that matter to me. It seemed like a victory was ahead.

But then I came home last night with a raging headache that kept me up until after 1, and made me sleep till 8. Suddenly, my best laid plans were off. There just weren’t enough hours for all my to do’s. See, this is the problem with schedules – when you make them, you’re acutely aware of when you aren’t following them!

It would be so easy to look at my list and see what didn’t happen, to be disappointed, to be stressed. Throughout the day, whenever this temptation came to mind, I said simply, “grace.”

Plans are good. Intentionality is good. But life doesn’t go the way we expect so much of the time, so instead of looking at what didn’t happen, my victory today is to be happy for what did. For all the rest, it’s just grace.

What are you calling victory today?