trust Archives - Page 3 of 3 - Gina Brenna Butz

Get Quiet Enough to Listen

Post author:Gina B
Post published:May 19, 2015
Post category:dependence on God faith peace rest

Years ago, a speaker named Dave shared a story that stuck with me. He and his friend, Pete, worked for a logging company, the details of which are fuzzy to me, but it involved getting logs into a stream. On occasion, for fun, they rode the logs down the stream for a bit. One beautiful lazy day, they lingered on the logs a bit too long and realized they were in rough waters. So rough, in fact, they weren’t confident they could get to shore. Dave asked Pete what he was going to do. Pete, having been a swimmer in college, decided to try for shore. Dave saw that, even with his skill, it was a struggle. He thought, “What am I going to do? I can’t swim that well!” Meanwhile, the water became faster and more turbulent.

Pete ran along shore, encouraging Dave to try to swim. Seeing the danger ahead, Dave made a break for it and paddled as hard as he could for shore. Despite swimming frantically, he got nowhere. Pete ran alongside, shouting at him, though the words were lost in the sounds of frenetic splashing and raging water.

Finally, Dave decided to give up. He could see the rapids ahead. He was a goner. Why fight it? So he went limp. At that moment, he finally heard Pete’s voice. Pete was shouting, “Stand up, Dave! Stand up!”

So Dave stood up and walked to shore.

Whenever I recall this story, I see myself. I see how I frantically try to work to get life in order, to get to solid ground, when all the while it is right there underneath me, if I would only rest in it. God, for some reason, chooses to speak to us in what Elijah experienced as the “gentle whisper.” We can’t hear it when we are scrambling on our own.

This past month, everywhere I look I am reminded that I am someone who tries to overcome the uncertainties of life by grabbing them by the horns and wrestling them to the ground with all my strength. I fight to keep control over situations that are so beyond me, (the spiritual lives of our children, for example) as though if I just try harder I can conquer them. The result is a tense, overworked, overwhelmed soul who fails at being God.

It’s time I went limp.

Anne Lamott says it well, “It helps to resign as the controller of your fate. All that energy we expend keeping things running right is not what keeps things running right.”

God calls us to resign as God, because we are not good at it. He calls us to let go of our frantic ways and trust. Trust that He is our solid rock, our peace, our salvation, our guide. He will keep things running right. We just need to get quiet enough to hear Him.

“In quietness and trust is your strength.” Isaiah 30:15

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

Just Enough Light for the Road I’m On

Post author:Gina B
Post published:September 16, 2014
Post category:faith truth

One of the downsides of living this far south is that the sun doesn’t come up early, and I’m an early morning girl. It puts a damper on any outdoor exercise in the am, mostly because we live in the boondocks where there are no streetlights. People live out here specifically because they want to get away from all that pesky civilization with its fancy electricity that might light my way.

This morning, I decided to brave the darkness with Scout in tow so I could prayer walk around the neighborhood (is that three birds with one stone, since I also walked the dog? Multi-tasking at its best!).

As I walked, it seemed like there were just enough front porch lights, or kitchen lights of early risers, on to light our way. And during the stretches where there was no light, a car or two drove out of the neighborhood and helped us see.

Just enough light. Not the brightness I would like to feel completely confident, but enough to show me what was next.

I so want to see far ahead. I want to know what the next year, two years, 10 years will look like. But God gives me only enough light for the next step, and not always when I want it, but when I truly need it. Hopefully it keeps me walking slowly, looking to Him for what is next, trusting that what I have seen in the light is still true in the darkness.

“Your word is a lamp for my feet and a light on my path.” Psalm 119:105

Perfect Peace

Post author:Gina B
Post published:October 3, 2013
Post category:31 Days of Victory peace truth

Did you know that if you say you’re having chest pains at the ER, you get in immediately? So you could say, “I broke my arm. And also, I’m having chest pains,” and you’d be at the front of the line. I will warn you, though, chest pains will result in lots of expensive testing. You need to decide how much money that time you just saved is worth to you. Your call.

I know this, because that’s what I did this morning. I’ll skip to the punch line and declare that my victory of the day is not dying from a heart attack at the age of 40!

Well, I could stop there, but the bigger victory for me is the way God led me to respond to this emergency. Around 7:30 this morning I started experiencing pain in the right side of my chest. Taking deep breaths hurt a lot, which caused, naturally, shortness of breath. My inhaler didn’t seem to do much so we sent the kids to school with someone else (shout out to my awesome friend Jenny for stepping in with 10 minutes to get ready!) and Erik took me to the ER.

As we were arranging all this, and googling, “heart attack symptoms women,” I started to be very fearful, panicked really. (FYI panicking when you are having trouble breathing is a poor choice). We climbed in the car and started driving, and I started to pray. That was when God reminded me of Isaiah 26:3-4, “You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast, for he trusts in you. Trust in him at all times, O people, for the Lord, the Lord is the rock eternal.”

And right there was my victory, and it was all God. Because as I read those words over and over, I just felt held in his perfect peace. Whatever happened, I was in his hands.

So as we spent 4 hours in the emergency room getting my blood test, chest X-ray, and CT scan, I was at peace, because he kept me there. And you know what? It all turned out exactly the same way that it would have had I gone into it with fear. Except everyone had a much more enjoyable experience because Gina stressed is not a blessing to anyone.

They don’t know what happened. They suspect, and so do I, that it was something muscular that caused my chest, then back, then neck to tense up and constrict my breathing. This is wonderful justification for me to have regular massages to keep my muscles relaxed. I’d rather do them for $4 on the beach in Thailand with a lime drink in my hand, but I’ll take what I can get.

Where did you see victory today?

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.

No More Fear

Post author:Gina B
Post published:August 18, 2013
Post category:anxiety peace

I’ve noticed many people lately have posted a link to a video about the danger of having location services on when we take photos with our phones. I confess, when I first watched the video, I was rattled for the first couple minutes. Then I got to the part where it told me that all I had to do to save myself from the certainty of someone hunting me down and doing me ill was to turn off my location services.

Really? That’s all? Ok, that’s the kind of information that you should lead with! Like, “Hey, it’s probably quite unlikely that someone is trolling the internet looking for this, but just in case, you might want to think about turning off your location services if you’re concerned that someone could know where you are.” But that’s not how media works these days, I’ve come to understand since I’m back in the States. This is a culture where we are encouraged to fear.

Fear sells. We’re drawn in to stories that play on our desires to protect those we love. We feel empowered that we could go one step further in ensuring that nothing bad happens to us or them. We feel like we’re being responsible people to buy into the level of concern the media tells us we should have.

Except it’s not real. Most of the time, the threat is nothing close to what they’re telling us it is. But we believe it, and we begin to live out of that fear. I, for one, don’t want to do that, because it takes things away from us.

It takes away trust in our fellow man. It takes away freedom. It takes away life. It takes away energy I could spend thinking about so many other more true things. I’ve learned recently that anxiety, even more than depression, decreases our productivity and our ability to reason. In other words, it doesn’t help us make better choices.

I don’t want to be driven by fear. It becomes a prison that makes our world smaller and smaller. As a believer, I am admonished again and again in scripture not to fear, but to live wisely, to live in faith.

Is there danger in the world? Certainly. Can we protect ourselves and our families from all of it? Never. So how should we respond? Can I suggest we make a choice to stay calm and be wise? Weigh the true risks, make wise choices to do what you can, and then live life fully. That’s what I intend to do.

The Slow Boat From Asia

Post author:Gina B
Post published:November 20, 2012
Post category:faith

Anyone else remember this book? I didn’t read it, maybe because I never had trouble getting my locker open.

Today, my book is titled, “If God Loves Me, Why Can’t We Get Our Stuff Off the Slow Boat From Asia?”

I’m guessing that sweet 70’s era book might have a good answer for me, so now I’m kicking myself for not pulling it off the church library shelf, but I have a pretty good idea what it would say.

I think it might tell me to give thanks in the midst of circumstances so that’s what I’m going to do. I’m thankful that:
1. Our stuff did not fall in the ocean.
2. We are not like those people we met who shipped their stuff to the US and didn’t get it for a year (Oh Lord, please don’t let us become those people).
3. We have had a place to stay while our stuff has been sailing the seven seas
4. Erik has been able to do other things to get our house ready, so these two trips haven’t been wasted
5. We have things to ship. Lots of things. A lot of people don’t have anything.
6. This is a light and momentary trial, especially compared to what so many are going through.
7. It’s kept us on our knees.
8. God is still God, and He is still good.

It’s this last one that I wrestle with in times like this, and I think that’s good. It’s good because it makes me think about what goodness to us really is – not our comfort or our happiness, but something much bigger and better. It’s good because it reminds me that God is not our vending machine, our Santa Claus, our butler, who does what we ask. when we ask. It’s good because it puts me in my place, a place of being very small and insignificant, which is why the fact that He loves me still is even greater.

I think I know what to do if I can’t get my locker open.

We Just Want It to Be Easier

related posts: