Why I Love Being Middle Aged

Gina Butz faith, growth, identity 3 Comments

This summer I celebrated my 44th birthday. I’m officially just, “40 something.” I thought this was when I was supposed to have a midlife crisis, or pine for my youth, but as I reflect on it, I actually love being “middle aged.” Here’s why: I am more comfortable in my own skin. I’d love to say “completely comfortable” but I’m not …

Where’s Our Hope?

Gina Butz expectations, faith, hope 0 Comments

I’ve never been an optimist. I don’t like to call myself a pessimist, though. I prefer “realist” because it sounds better. Less of a downer. I just don’t want to be disappointed. Who does? Yet all the time, in so many ways, we hope. I hope that the light will stay green until I get through it, or there will be …

Running from God

Gina Butz dependence on God, faith, trials 2 Comments

“What would make you run from God?” A pastor asked us this question one Sunday as he began a series on the person of Jonah, the poster prophet for running from God. The pastor suggested we might be tempted to run from a calling to another country, maybe one where westerners aren’t welcome. I found myself surprised that a specific location …

Faith for the Small Life

Gina Butz faith 6 Comments

I’ve always been small, the runt of the litter. In all my pictures growing up, I’m the shortest one. People regularly assumed I was a few years younger than I was. In response, I became what you might call “scrappy.” Trying to appear bigger, stronger, more capable than I was. I still do. Our kids finished school a couple weeks …

This Kind of Jesus

Gina Butz faith 0 Comments

When I worked in campus ministry, I had a student insist to me that Jesus was white, because she’d “seen the pictures.” Yeah. I’ve seen the pictures too. Jesus always looks so serene and other worldly, like in that one where He’s standing outside the door in a halo of sunlight. I get the feeling that if I were to …

On Learning to Be Quick to Call for Help

Gina Butz dependence on God, faith 0 Comments

“Ring! Ring!” These words were often heard in our house when our children were younger, usually accompanied by giggles, peppered with a little desperation. They were the distress call from our daughter, translating to, “Daddy – my big brother’s playing with me and he’s getting a little too rough and left to my own devices I’ll probably retaliate in a way that …