trials Archives - Page 3 of 3

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

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

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

Why God Won’t Just Make It Easier

Post author:Gina B
Post published:August 29, 2013
Post category:faith hope transition trials

The last two years we lived in Singapore were, in a word, hard.

The summer prior we’d said goodbye to several families and had to move 2 miles from where we’d been living a glorious communal existence with them.

Within months of living in our new apartment, my allergies kicked in like they’d been making up for lost time. I burned through every over the counter allergy drug Mustafa Centre had to offer within about 2 months.

When I finally broke down and saw an allergist, he put me on an experimental drug that was supposed to eradicate ALL my allergies. Most people saw dramatic results within 4-6 months. I quit after nine because I’d seen no change. He was baffled.

I was just plain tired of it.

In the meantime, he’d put me on a prescription allergy drug as well, which I had to take immediately upon waking.

If I didn’t, forget about it. By 10 am I’d be scratching my face off and unable to see straight through a fog of sneezing. I’d pop some Benadryl, point the kids toward the TV, request that they not kill each other before daddy came home, and let the Benadryl slam me into symptomless sleep.

Homeschool? Barely. Getting out of the house to do fun stuff with the kids? Not much. Meals? Housework? Nope.

On top of that, Erik’s job had become more demanding, and the kids were lonely without the constant presence of friends which had been their previous existence. Yep, it was just. plain. hard.

So often during that time I would cry out to God and ask Him to change it.

I raged. Questioned God. Doubted His love. I pleaded with Him to just make it easier. One day, He responded by gently pointing out that what I was really asking was not to have to need Him quite so much.

We Just Want It to Be Easier

Nobody signs up for “hard.”

It’s not a popular class. We treat it like an elective, but it’s a core course. It’s where we learn to come to the end of ourselves and to trust in His abundant resources.

We say we want to grow in Christlikeness, in character, in faith, but when it comes to the reality of what it takes to get there? I know I for one am often inclined to say, “Um . . . no thanks.”

When trials come, I’m always tempted to say, “God, just make it easier.” I want to jump to the end where I’ve learned the lessons and grown and are all mature and glowing. (that’s what happens, right? Tell me that’s what happens)

But I think back on those two years in Singapore. Yes, they were hard. But were they worth it? You bet.

I can’t tell you how much God met us, and how He used that situation for good (not the least of which was to take us back to China, which was our dream), how He shaped me in that brokenness.

So I have hope. God meets us in the hard, not to make it easier, but to show us that He is strong enough for it if we will just own our deep need for Him and trust Him.

Christ Who Gives Me . . .

Post author:Gina B
Post published:March 18, 2013
Post category:faith trials

This morning I received an email from Ethan that said, “I can do all things through Christ who gives me.” I jokingly wrote back, “Gives me what? What is it Ethan? The suspense is killing me!”

But I was encouraged. This is his budding faith in action, as he was gearing up for what we both knew was going to be a rough day, reminding us both who we need to trust. He has a quarter paper due tomorrow, and in defiance of the word “quarter”, he has chosen to instead try to do it in about a week. The last seven days could be titled, “The Butz family learns the meaning and consequences of deadlines.” This morning he still had about 4/5 actually written, but not edited, and no bibliography. Nothing like a challenge for Monday morning!

To make it more interesting, Megan went to a birthday sleepover on Saturday night with 20 other girls where they were allowed to stay up until 1:30 am. I don’t remember the last time I willingly stayed up that late. It was probably my freshman year of college, before I realized that I can’t function beyond 10 pm. We learned yesterday that Megan can’t function well herself on 6 hours of sleep. Today, we were still feeling the residual damage.

All that added up to an emotional day, the kind of day where my heart struggles to stay engaged with my kids, to enter in to their emotions fully, to just sit with them in their tears. Part of me wants to let them just cry it out, to say, “Yep. I get it. School is hard. Life is hard. I’m totally with you kiddo,” and another part of me wants to move them through it as quickly as possible back to a place where they can actually finish the work and put us all out of our misery.

At times, I think, “This is too much God. My heart can’t stretch any more. I can’t sit through another meltdown. I don’t have what I need for this.”

But throughout the day, I’ve remembered Ethan’s email. I can do all things through Christ who gives me . . . strength, yes. But really, fill in the blank. Patience. Compassion. Gentleness. A bigger heart. Whatever it is we need.

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.

We Just Want It to Be Easier

related posts: