suffering Archives - Gina Brenna Butz

God Owes Us Nothing

Post author:Gina B
Post published:September 26, 2019
Post category:dependence on God

This summer, I almost threw a Tim Keller book out the window of our car.

That’s not normally how I respond to Keller-we’re generally on the same page. But his book, Walking with God Through Pain and Suffering, kicked me with a simple conviction, “God owes you nothing.”

Earlier this spring, God had me in a wilderness of ill health. I learned a lot there, so much so that when my symptoms went away for a brief time, I was a little disappointed. I didn’t want to lose the intimacy I had with God.

But then, the symptoms came back. And left. And came back.

I have to say, I didn’t respond well.

While I had come to a point where I could even thank God for the wilderness initially, being led back in again struck a nerve in me. I couldn’t find my way back to the contentedness I had claimed. I went from, “I have stilled and quieted my soul” to “forget this, I’m out.”

What We Think God Owes Us

It wasn’t that I didn’t believe God could use this in my life. I just couldn’t see the point of it anymore. I wasn’t hearing His voice speak comfort or encouragement to me like before. Or maybe I just grew weary of trying to listen for it.

In essence, I held my hand up to God in an act of defiance: I do not want this suffering.

And to be honest? My resistance rested on a simple idea: I don’t think this is a good thing for me. Follow that thread and you’ll see it’s based on a lie that I know what is best for me, and this ain’t it.

We might be OK with suffering for a time, but when it wears on our souls, it’s easy to believe: God owes me better than this.We might be OK with suffering for a time, but when it wears on our souls, it's easy to believe: God owes me better than this. Share on X

We are so quick to claim, “All things work for the good of those who love Him” but we have such a narrow, shallow view of what that good entails.

And it leads us to think that He owes us. If He claims to always do good for us, then we think good should include our health. And while we’re at it, our jobs, our marriages, our kids, our general happiness. Doesn’t suffering mean God is lying down on the job of giving me a good life?

But what Keller pointed out in his book is that God has already done more than enough. The breath in our lungs is because God breathed it. Life itself is an unmerited gift, in whatever form.

And so much more than that: He gave everything by giving us Jesus-the ultimate gift we did not deserve or earn and can never repay. Do we really have the right to ask anything of Him?

Why not us?

Recently there was an incredible interview between Anderson Cooper and Stephen Colbert, the latter being a man of some measure of faith. Anderson Cooper referenced a comment Stephen had made, “All punishment is a gift from God.”

Through tears, and perhaps some doubt, Anderson asked, “Do you really believe that?”

Stephen’s response essentially was ‘yes.’ He said that “all life is a gift we don’t deserve.” And suffering is part of that life. It’s all a gift from God.

They went on together to agree that while it’s tempting to ask, “Why me?” maybe the better question is, “Why not me?”

I confess I was humbled by their words. They keep turning over in my heart.

Why should I be exempt? Why should you? Is there a reason God owes us more than the next person? Do we deserve a “better” life because we follow Him?

He has already given us life. The fact that we breathe air every day is an undeserved gift of grace.

But more than that, He has given us salvation. He has given us His Spirit. We did not earn or deserve that in any way. It is grace upon grace.

He owes us nothing, yet He is always giving us what we need, if we let go of our idea of what that looks like.

So instead of holding my hand up in defiance, I ask Him to help me hold it out to receive.

How “At Least . . .” Keeps Us From Reality

Post author:Gina B
Post published:August 22, 2019
Post category:emotions relationships Uncategorized

A few weeks ago, I lamented a reality in my life. I would tell you what this reality was, but I honestly don’t remember. All I know is that my husband didn’t respond the way I hoped.

His response was, “Well, at least (this other thing) isn’t happening to you.” (Again, what was the other thing? I don’t know. But it didn’t help me).

And we both laughed.

Because we know by now that, as Brené Brown says, “At least . . . ” is rarely the beginning of an empathetic response. It’s a way to minimize or distract ourselves (or others) from the reality of what we’re facing.

Over the next few days, we both experienced more challenges that led us, either jokingly or absent-mindedly, to respond to one another with, “Well, at least . . .”

Each time, we caught ourselves. We saw how easy it is to evade our own or someone else’s pain by this kind of comparison.

Call it “putting things in perspective” or “choosing not to complain,” but really what we’re doing is dismissing our hearts, refusing to acknowledge reality.

In some ways, it’s a decent strategy. At times, it has protected us from being engulfed by sorrow. But if we know God, then we know there’s an opportunity here.

The opportunity is to invite Him to meet us in what is true. A prayer I learned recently from Ruth Haley Barton’s readings is, “Lord, humble me in the presence of reality.”

In other words, help me sit in this situation. Help me not to excuse or dismiss or pretend that things are better than they are.

Because I believe that You are greater than this. You can redeem. You can heal. This is not beyond you, therefore I can face it.

When we sit with God in our own reality, we increase our capacity to sit with others in theirs.

And when we refrain from our “at least . . .” responses with them, we leave space for them to do this same practice with God for themselves. Otherwise, our actions not only keep us from having to feel their pain, they actually keep them from meeting God in it.

So may we catch ourselves when we are tempted to compare suffering. If our sentences begin with “at least” may we pause.

Instead, let’s meet God in reality.

It’s Going to Be Okay

Post author:Gina B
Post published:March 29, 2018
Post category:grief hope trials

“It’s going to be okay.”

I recently told my husband that he can no longer say this to me when I am discouraged, anxious, or forecasting the demise of some aspect of my life (as I am apt to do at times).

I’ve always hated when people say, “It’s going to be okay.” I want to slap them.

“How do you know?” I wonder.

How, in the middle of this really stinky moment in my life can you offer this platitude? (Trust me, I’ve had it offered to me at really, really stinky moments).

But lately, I feel like God keeps telling me exactly that, “It’s going to be okay.”

Really, God? Is it really going to be okay? How can you say that? When I’m sitting here waiting to hear the news that could be life-changing, it doesn’t feel like it will be okay if it doesn’t turn out the way I hope. When we’re staring down disappointment, broken dreams, loss, shalom shattered, sometimes it doesn’t feel like it will ever be okay.

But He repeats: It’s going to be okay. Here’s how I know.

It’s going to be okay. Why?

This past week at church, we talked about Jesus raising Lazarus. When Lazarus falls ill, they send for Jesus by saying, “Lord, he whom you love is ill.” I don’t send for people that way, but maybe I should, like, “Erik, the wife whom you love needs a foot massage.”

But that’s what defined their relationship. And just to be clear, John reiterates it in verse 5, “Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus.” Ah, so it wasn’t just them thinking he loved them. He really did. Our speaker pointed out how important it was to preface the story this way because, in the middle of the not okay that was coming, it would be easy to doubt.

It’s easy for us too.

He loves us

It’s going to be okay because He loves us. That’s the anchor where we sink our souls when life doesn’t look the way we feel it should. The God who loves us more than life is in it.

So it’s going to be okay. But not just okay. It’s going to be good.

Oh, but not necessarily good in the way we think it should be good. And that’s the problem.

The problem is that my idea of good is so focused on my comfort and happiness, focused on tangible, temporal things. In my world, the news is always what I hoped it would be. Jesus shows up in my time and my ways.

He is good

But It’s going to be good because He is good, and His purposes toward us are for our good. He is focused on our character and sanctification, on intangible, eternal things. He shows up in His time and His ways, that are so much better than ours.

His good is so much bigger. It’s a good grounded in the deepest love we can imagine, always working on our behalf.

It’s good in the way that Jesus didn’t just save Lazarus from illness, he raised him from the dead. That’s a better story.

He’s writing a good story

And that’s what I also know. It’s going to be okay because God is a good author. He is a good storyteller. He is writing a good story for us. And the story ends well.

We won’t see them as good stories if we hold too tightly to our idea of good. In my version of life, disappointment, broken dreams, and loss are not part of the story. But what kind of story would it be if everything was perfect?

A boring story, that’s what. The best stories have conflict. They have twists and turns and nail biting, “What will happen?” moments. And God’s writing the best story for each of us.

The stories God writes are stories of redemption. You can’t have redemption if you don’t have shalom shattered. You can’t have resurrection without death.

This week is a holy reminder that it’s going to be okay. Easter demonstrates His love for us. It is a testimony to God working good on our behalf. The story is one of triumph over the greatest enemy. He made everything okay.

We say this Friday is good, but it didn’t feel good to the disciples. It felt like the end of all their hopes. Disappointment. Broken dreams. Loss. It didn’t feel like it was going to ever be okay.

They didn’t know Sunday was coming. But God knew.

He knew that it was all for love. It was the greatest story ever written. All for us.

So when I slip into bed and anxious thoughts nag at my brain, I call to mind instead His voice telling me, “It’s going to be okay.” As I think about our son heading off to college this summer, and all the unknowns that go with that, He whispers, “It’s going to be okay.” I sigh my latest dilemma to my husband, and I hear him catch himself before he says it, but I nod, and say, “You’re right. It’s going to be okay.”

When life feels like Friday, it’s going to be okay, because Sunday’s coming.

He loves us. Everything is working for our good. The story ends well. Maybe not today, or tomorrow. Maybe not until we see Him. But it’s going to be okay.

Embracing Suffering – Guest post at Thrive Connection

Post author:Gina B
Post published:July 26, 2016
Post category:dependence on God grief trials

Suffering in this world—great or small and in one form or another—is inevitable. It is not something like jury duty that you just have to hope will not happen to you. You will not avoid it if you simply “play your cards right” or just “walk in the Spirit.” Nor is it some detour to get through quickly so you can get back to the real work of ministry.

Suffering in the Christian life is essential. It is a tool for transforming us into the kind of people God designed us to be.

Read the rest of this post at Thrive Connection.