weakness Archives - Gina Brenna Butz

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.

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

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

The Fight Belongs to Him

Post author:Gina B
Post published:November 12, 2014
Post category:dependence on God trials truth

The Fight Belongs to Him

We are at war, and I am a lousy general.

There are issues in the world worth fighting for: the hearts and minds of our kids, strong family ties, justice for the oppressed, basic human rights.

I don’t stop there though – I have all kinds of ambitious ideas, expectations and goals for myself, my family, my world. I approach them as hills to be conquered.

I am a fighter. I’ve never been one to sit on the sidelines (remember, I’m the overly enthusiastic sideline coach). The problem is that my weapons are not effective.

I fight in my own strength.

I’d like to think I’m a pretty strong woman. I am, by most standards. That’s my downfall.

When I see these issues around me that I want to change, I tackle them with all my might and wrestle them to the ground. I come at them with my best arguments, lofty goals, high energy, intentionality.

What looks like fierceness is often nothing more than a fearful attempt to control the outcome of a situation.

If I just keep trying and try hard enough, I can conquer them, right? Right? Tell me I’m right.

I’m wrong. These problems are bigger than me. They take more than I have. Others are simply not my battle to fight; they’re my ideas, not God’s. Most of them are spiritual battles, led by an enemy bent on our destruction. Who am I against that?

[ictt-tweet-inline]I’m picking the wrong weapons and the wrong battles.[/ictt-tweet-inline]

I am not meant for this war, but He is. Lately, I’ve been convicted of my need to lay down my feeble weapons and turn to His power. He sees the true battles and sees them better than I do. He knows what it takes, and He has it. He knows what must be hard fought and what is not meant to be.

My best weapon is not inside me but in praying the fight back to Him, trusting that He will do what needs to be done.

[ictt-tweet-inline]He wants to fight for me. My job is to step back and let Him.[/ictt-tweet-inline]

Do I stop fighting altogether? No. There are some problems worth pounding the table about. But there are some hills that I am not meant to climb. Those I leave to God.

I want to fight as one who knows her place as a lowly foot soldier, trusting in my commanding officer’s weapons, wisdom, guidance and strength, not my own. I want to follow His orders on when and where to fight, and with what. The battle is the Lord’s.

“The Lord will fight for you. You need only be still.” Exodus 14:14