Blog - Page 16 of 35 - Gina Brenna Butz

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

To the Mother of a Special Needs Child

Post author:Gina B
Post published:February 1, 2016
Post category:grace parenting

To the mother with a special needs daughter next to me on the plane:

I don’t know what brought you and your daughter from the back of plane to sit next to me on that late flight from Chicago to Orlando. I hope it wasn’t that someone was displeased by your presence; your daughter did so well on that flight. I’m sure you had no idea all the thoughts and emotions that observing the two of your raised for me:

I hoped that the flight wasn’t too disturbing for your daughter. I know that can stir a lot of anxiety for someone who is challenged.

I prayed she would feel ok and not be nervous. I prayed you would have patience and strength to do this journey.

I wondered if you were taking her to Disney, and I imagined her childlike wonder and joy if you do.

I thought about how this has been your life for a few decades, watching her, keeping her happy, caring for her most basic needs.

I loved watching her care for her baby doll.

I wondered how I could help her be at ease – if she would appreciate interaction, or if the attention of a stranger would disquiet her.

But mostly, if I could have sat next to you, I would have wanted you to know simply that I saw you.

I saw you patiently making sure her legs didn’t drift back into the aisle where they might be bumped. I saw you point out pictures in the magazine to hold her attention. I saw you when you had to speak for her to the flight attendant, knowing that must happen day after day, you communicating for her. I saw when you recognized that she was getting agitated, and you knew she needed her baby to calm her down.

I saw that you are a good mother. I know most people don’t give much thought to what it means for you to love and care for her day in and day out. I’m sure I don’t know the half of it, but I want you to know that there are people who see you, and want to support and help you in what you do. I hope you know that. I hope you have those people, people who can offer much more than just a prayer and a smile on a late night plane. You are seen.

When You Love Someone with Special Needs

Asking Audaciously

Post author:Gina B
Post published:December 17, 2015
Post category:faith

Asking Audaciously Are you an audacious asker?

A few years ago, I woke up days before Christmas with the word “audacity” in my head. For the life of me, I don’t know why. So I began to ponder the meaning of “audacious.”

Audacious: extremely bold or daring; recklessly brave; fearless, lively; unrestrained; uninhibited.

You know who’s audacious at Christmas? Little kids.

“I want a pony!” (do kids ask for ponies anymore?)

“I want an iphone!”

“I want . . . I want . . . I want . . .”

In my pondering, I felt the prompting of the Spirit asking me this question, “What would you ask for of Me if you asked audaciously?”

I was stumped. I realized that I don’t usually think in that term. It’s easier to ask manageable, practical, maybe they would have happened anyway kind of prayers. Less hope, less disappointment.

That’s not how we’re called to pray.

“Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us . . .” (Ephesians 3:20)

But here was this invitation, “What do you want, Gina? What would you ask of Me?” At the time, it was on behalf of my husband, working at a role far too expansive for one person.

“I want him to have an associate,” I threw out as boldly as I could. It felt, well, not audacious enough.

“By the end of January,” I added for good measure. You want audacious? That’s my best effort.

Most of January flew by, my audacity floating in the air like a cloud, threatening to blow away at the first sign of doubt. The last week, a casual conversation with a friend about how her husband was finding joy in projects that involved operations (my husband’s work) led me to share my audacious prayer with her. She took one look at me and said, “Our husbands need to talk.”

You see, Gina? I can answer audacious prayers. I can do more than that, if you have the courage to ask.

So here I am, staring down another Christmas, watching our kids’ wish lists grow as their eyes and dreams get bigger, more hopeful, more expectant. They’re asking audaciously.

And I’m reminded, “Will you ask audaciously?”

Will I ask, believing that He can go so much further, do something deeper, better than I can imagine? Or will I stay in my safe, well-mannered prayers, never risking or hoping too much?

Ask audaciously. Ask bold, brave, unrestrained, uninhibited. Ask for the pony. It might not happen the way you hope or expect, but He answers. Just ask.

Why Christmas Reminds Me to Hope in God

Post author:Gina B
Post published:December 7, 2015
Post category:Christmas expectations faith hope

Why Christmas Reminds Me to Hope in God

I hate waiting. That’s why I have Amazon Prime.

‘Tis the season of waiting. We wait in lines, for packages to arrive, for family, friends, parties, planes.

In the Bible, the word wait is often translated hope. They are intertwined. We must wait for the objects of our hope.

Hope feels deeper. We don’t just hope for that gift we want for Christmas. We hope for marriage, children, jobs, for needs satisfied.

Wrapped up in our hope is expectation. We have ideas of how we want our hopes realized. And when we are asking God to step into our hope and meet it, we put those expectations on Him.

What does it look like to hope in God? We place our fragile hopes in His hands, but too often the waiting is long, the expectations unmet. We fear disappointment. Sometimes it’s easier not to hope.

The Israelites knew a little about waiting. They waited in slavery, in exile, for the Promised Land, for a Messiah. In their waiting, they hoped. Their expectations grew. They longed for a leader, a savior, one who would protect them from their enemies and carry them to victory. For hundreds of years, they waited and hoped and expected rescue.

And then Jesus came, and He wasn’t anything they expected. But when I look at His birth, I’m reminded why God is worthy of our hope. In Christmas I see that:

God keeps His promises

Jesus fulfilled every prophecy about the Messiah. “For no matter how many promises God has made, they are “Yes” in Christ. And so through him, the “Amen” is spoken by us to the glory of God.” 2 Corinthians 1:20

He has promised us so much – that He will never leave us, He will work all things for good, He will give us abundant life. We can hang our hope on His promises.

He meets our deepest needs

Four men lowered their paralyzed friend through a roof, but instead of healing his body, Jesus forgave his sins (and then healed him). The Israelites thought they needed a leader; God knew they needed a redeemer. We think we know what we want, but God wants to give us what we may not even know we need. Christ’s birth reminds me that not only does He knows my needs, He can also meet them.

His ways are not our ways

The Israelites probably would not have chosen an unwed, teenage mother or a poor carpenter to parent the ruler of the universe, or have made Him a Nazarene. So many of the chapters of my life I would not have written the way God did, but looking back, they are so good. We stumble the most when we hold too tightly to the ways we think God should answer our prayers. Like the Jewish people, we might miss His answers entirely.

He loves us more than life

One of my favorite songs a few years ago was “Touch the Sky,” by Hillsong United. It says, “You traded heaven to have me again.” Christmas tells me to put my hope in Him because of this: He would do anything, give up everything, just to have me.

It might not happen now, or when we expect, but God is always working good on our behalf, meeting our deepest needs, keeping His promises out of his deep love for us. He is worthy of our hope.

This is the season of Advent, which means expectant waiting. So we wait quietly, attentively, continually, dependently. We put our hope not in an outcome, but in a Person.

Freedom – guest post at Mudroom

Post author:Gina B
Post published:November 25, 2015
Post category:faith identity loved

It was in that Bible study that I realized I was not free.

We were eight couples, all of us fresh into our time as expats in Singapore, struggling to find our footing in what we jokingly called “Fantasy Island.” That group was a lifeline in the midst of our turbulent transition to a new country, yet I often walked away from times with them feeling insecure and unsettled. Why?

Read the rest of the story at The Mudroom blog, where I’m guest posting this week.

The Power of a Mother’s Words

Post author:Gina B
Post published:November 17, 2015
Post category:parenting

The Power of a Mother's Words I saw the attitude creep in.

At first, it was a proclivity to preferring me over dad. That’s normal for a 13 year old, right? But soon it was, “I don’t want dad” and “he can’t do it right” and shrugging off hugs and kisses. It was eye rolling and snarky come backs and at times, downright sass.

My husband, being the gentle, easy going guy that he is, was good natured about it at first. But over time, I began to observe the hurt in his eyes, the rejection he felt from his little girl. I thought, “When did this happen? And what do we do to make it stop?”

And then I started looking at myself. I noticed the words that came out of my mouth when her dad was home late from work, a “you know your dad” comment thrown carelessly in front of her. I caught my tendency to jump in to her issues when I could have left space for her to turn to him instead. I heard my sarcastic responses to him at dinner. In a hundred little ways, I had set the example in how I was treating her father. She was just copying what she saw.

Alright, then. If she can copy me at my worst, she can copy me at my best.

So I began an all out offensive. I held my tongue when she baited me to complain about him coming home late. I talked about his positive traits, his good character, how blessed we are to have him. I made a big deal about him coming home (not as excited as our dog is, but heading that direction).

At first, I got suspicious sideways glances, “Seriously? This guy?” Yeah, this guy. This guy who loves, protects, provides for, encourages and builds us all. This guy who doesn’t get nearly the credit he deserves – I see how I have the power to shape how you view him and I am determined to do just that.

It didn’t happen overnight, but it happened. The attitude changed. She’s the one running to greet him. She smiles at his corny jokes (most of the time). She wants him to say goodnight too. Her words are different. So is her heart.

I have to keep a watch though. How I talk becomes how she talks. My attitude becomes hers – not just toward her father but everything. How we talk to children becomes not only their inner voice but the voice they use with others. We must be conscious to speak to them and in front of them the way we hope they will speak to others.

There is power in our words, friends. Power to shape hearts that form words that become attitudes that affect relationships.

Let’s use that power to bless.

Beautiful

Living a Better Story

Post author:Gina B
Post published:November 2, 2015
Post category:dependence on God faith trials

When I look at this next month, I’m tempted to think, “How am I going to get through this?”

My fallback is, “With a lot of caffeine and chocolate,” but there’s probably a better option.

This is my point of need, and it is a good place.

When life feels overwhelming, when the waves are just a little higher than I’m comfortable, and the current is strong, it is tempting to switch into battle mode and just barrel through.

The problem with that style is that I tend to leave people in my wake. I get short with my family. I am not present with people. My body responds physically to the stress of swimming harder. My focus becomes “I just have to get through.” I miss so much.

This morning, as I stare down this week when I know that sitting will be a luxury, there probably won’t be actual meals on the table, and if we looked at what we’re spending in tolls we would cry rivers, I know I don’t want the story to only be, “We made it.”

There’s a better story I could write this week, because God is in the picture.

All morning He has been reminding me that this week is an opportunity.

This is my point of need, where He wants to show His power in my weakness. He wants to carry us. He wants to give us the strength and peace and patience and joy to do this week like it’s the best week ever.

It begins by laying down my own efforts. If my worries become prayers, my task list becomes my places of dependence. It can happen if I navigate this week by the power of His Spirit alive in me, and not by anything I bring to the table.

If that’s where I’m resting, then I can love my family. I can be present with people. I can breathe rest into my body. My focus can be, “Let’s see what He can do with this week.” I don’t want to miss Him in it.

We can write a story of dependence this week.

We can write a chapter that says, “I can’t do it, but He can.” We can write love and joy and peace and glory, if we remember where to look for all we need.

He is bigger than whatever I face this week, whatever you’re facing. We don’t have to live any differently in the deep waters than we do in the places where our feet can touch. We can live a better story.

When You Just Have to Do One Day at a Time

We Are All Glorious Messes

Post author:Gina B
Post published:October 21, 2015
Post category:expectations grace identity

I just read a post written by a woman who called herself “that mom.” The mom who seems to be failing on all fronts. She says she’s in a rough patch. I get it. We’ve all been there.

I see a lot of posts like this lately, posts that lift the veil on the highly censored, cleaned up versions we often post of ourselves on Facebook, and show that life isn’t always that great.

It’s not as great as the posts of people who ran 10K this morning and toured Europe and whose kids invented something that will now be patented. (for the record, none of those things are true of me).

It’s good, this kind of transparency.

It breaks down walls. It combats shame. But what is discouraging to me is that it seems to create an either/or mentality, and a shaming of those who are doing “well.”

We celebrate those who own their messes (and we should) but we draw lines and separate them from those who claim to be hitting their marks. We call those “other people” fake or boastful.

The fact is, these lines don’t exist.

“That mom” may have had an off day, but I bet if you sit with her, you would wind up concluding that she’s actually doing a great job, even in the midst of her failings.

And the people who are posting their victories aren’t necessarily trying to say they always live at awesome. Granted, they might be, but maybe they don’t feel the freedom to admit that they fall short. That should evoke compassion from us, not shaming. Maybe they’re just saying, “I had a red letter day. Rejoice with me.” And we should.

We Are Both

Can we be the woman who messes up, but is being faithful and pressing on and sometimes has really great moments that she wants to celebrate?

Can we be the woman who is enjoying life and doing well, but let others into the fact that she’s sometimes less than her best?

There is space to affirm both. We can rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn. God desires we enter in with both.

We aren’t either/or. We are both.

Success and failure don’t define us. We are both extraordinary and ordinary. There is light and dark in all of us.

We are glorious messes.

If we tend toward focusing on our failures, maybe it’s time we stopped and celebrated what is good. And if we are only showing the shiny parts of life, maybe it’s time to let some people see where we’re struggling.

We can be both.

Just Show Up

Post author:Gina B
Post published:October 12, 2015
Post category:courage grace trials

It’s Monday, y’all, and I for one am not into it. I’m staring down another week of busy, after a full weekend of uff da.

Today, it’s enough for me to show up. Still in my pajamas, I’m sure at least until noon, but I’m here. Gina, reporting for life.

But today I agree with Brené Brown that it can be brave just to show up. Just come and say, “I’m here.”

I may not be ready or have what it takes, but I’m here. I’ll do it scared if I have to.

Maybe it won’t be amazing. But what is there for me to do, I will do faithfully. And that is enough.

Our sweet girl showed up last weekend. She spent most of it trying out for a competitive soccer development program. Right out of the gate, the wind got knocked out of her sails by a shaming comment from one of the coaches after she missed an easy shot. It rattled her, threw her day off.

She came home in tears, full of frustration and regret. But I was so proud. She stayed. She did it scared. Maybe not her best effort, but she showed up. That’s important. That’s brave.

Even more brave to go back the next day and do it all over again.

“Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, ‘I will try again tomorrow.'”

She did.

As I saw my husband off to another tough work day, he looked at me and said, “I’m showing up.” Yep. That’s enough.

This fall has been a series of showing up days for me. Days that feel like they ask more than I have (am I the only one who feels like raising teenagers requires a counseling degree they don’t have?).

But I keep showing up. Gina, reporting for life.

Some days, I feel successful. Like a rock star.

Some days, I feel like I’m fresh out of amazing, as my friend and fellow blogger Stacey puts it so well in her book. Grace for the rest.

Faithful isn’t about how well you do it – it’s about doing it, period. It’s showing up, again and again.

I keep showing up because I know He uses what I bring. He takes my offerings and fills in the empty spaces with grace. We can show up because we know He goes before. We are not alone.

Do it scared, tired, empty, lonely, weak, clueless. We show up with confidence because He uses it all.

So let’s show up today.

Let’s bring our best, whatever that looks like on any given day, and know that it’s enough because He has the rest. This can be our act of courage today, our brave face regardless of the circumstances.

Stop Telling Me to Be Amazing

When You Love Someone With Special Needs

Post author:Gina B
Post published:September 28, 2015
Post category:parenting personal relationships

One of the things that brings me the greatest joy is to hear my children talking to my sister. When they talk with her, they sweetly ask questions and patiently listen to her stories. They treat her with compassion. They make her feel loved. It’s like a balm to my soul.

Why? Because my sister is mentally challenged.

What it’s like to love someone who is challenged

Growing up with an older sister who is mentally challenged, I had an acute radar for how other people responded to her. I vetted every friend who came over, watching to see if they would treat her normally. I eyed strangers in public, ready to give them the stink eye if they so much as smirked at her. (You don’t want to be on the receiving end of my stink eye).

While my parents encouraged her as much as possible to live an independent life, she will always need others’ help and support. She is a perpetual child in an adult body; trusting, simple, open. She needs others to stand with her, to listen to her, to guide her, to do for her what she cannot do for herself.

As adults, I’m not as worried about her as I was as a child, but I still want to shelter her. During the 2012 election, we needed to vote early, so I picked her up on Halloween. She exited her house wearing a pink princess costume with a silver crown.

I paused for a minute and then thought, “Ok, let’s go with it.”

Of course we got stares and questioning looks at the voting booths. Part of me felt the need to justify why a 42-year-old woman was wearing a princess costume. Another part of me wanted everyone to act like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Actually, I wanted more than that. I wanted people to feel the way I felt about her – that they would think that it was awesome that she was wearing exactly what made her happy on a holiday.

How I want people to see her

I wanted them to see her as the gift she is; a precious, God-given gift.

My sister loves purely and wholeheartedly. She delights in little things, in being part of everything. Trust and acceptance come easily to her. She gives me opportunities to grow in being compassionate, patient, gentle, loving, protective of the weak, accepting of the different.

And that’s why it’s such a blessing when others step in and love her alongside me. It says, “I see that she is precious too. I will stand with you in loving her.” It says we are not alone, that others will be the protectors, the helpers, the givers. They will recognize the value in her.

So if you know someone who is challenged in some way, know that taking the time to love them isn’t just a gift to them. It’s a gift to those who love them as well. Thank you.

What Parents Really Need to Hear

Why We Try to Save

Why We Shouldn’t Save

God keeps His promises

He meets our deepest needs

His ways are not our ways

He loves us more than life

related posts:

This is my point of need, and it is a good place.

There’s a better story I could write this week, because God is in the picture.

We can write a story of dependence this week.

It’s good, this kind of transparency.

The fact is, these lines don’t exist.

We Are Both

We are glorious messes.

What it’s like to love someone who is challenged

How I want people to see her