Can Introverts Be Effective

Such As I Have, Give I Thee

I walk the streets of my quiet neighborhood almost daily. Being close to the city, the sounds of sirens or those of noisy trucks can be heard in the distance. But my street itself is quiet. As long as the weather holds up, my feet are hitting the pavement. Ten thousand steps or more on some days. I have plenty of time to be quiet with my thoughts, process events and feelings, listen to audiobooks or podcasts, have one-sided conversations on Voxer with close friends (as I wait for a reply, of course), and I almost always find myself whispering prayers to God, a humbled heart’s cry from the deepest places of me. A whisper so subtle, some may deem it ineffective or insignificant.

And I want to write about the recent conversation I had with God.

But first, a bit of backstory.

I spent a significant amount of my life feeling inadequate or ashamed due to my quiet nature. I’ll explain why in a minute. But, I remember as a nineteen year old girl, I had just returned from a month-long mission trip across the world. Shortly after that trip, I was on another trip with my mom in her hometown. One day, she was driving along, through the backroads of the small town she grew up in and was well acquainted with. We came across someone she knew. He was stumbling along the side of the road. To me, he looked weak and sickly. He smelled of alcohol. She stopped and picked him up and dropped him off where he needed to be.

That moment affected me so profoundly. My heart ached for the condition of a man so lost and so alone in his life. I remember crying as he left the car. And I prayed a prayer silently that day. I pleaded with God to give me a heart of compassion. I wanted to see people and love them as He did.

I truly believe I prayed that prayer and I cried those tears, not even realizing I already had the compassion and love for people that I desired. God had already placed it in me. I was a quiet girl. Always sensitive to the ache and pain of others. And always sensitive to the presence of God.

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As I write this next part, I am very aware of not wanting to say anything that embarrasses others. It is hard for me to write. And I don’t write it to make anyone feel wrong or foolish.

But I write this to encourage people like me, who have always led a quieter life, by nature. People who love God and are immensely sensitive to Him. To those who love people deeply, but feel lost and almost useless in a very loud world. A world that seems to cater to the more charismatic, outgoing or extroverted personalities. I write to you, my more reserved or quiet friend. Or I write to explain to others who may not fully understand that whether extroverted, introverted or somewhere in between, we are each, in fact, a reflection of our Creator.

Growing up, I was raised in a church that was of the Charismatic-Pentecostal type. A church where people freely shout, dance, run, jump as an expression of their love for God, their faith in God, their passion or excitement about what is being preached or what they believe God will do or has done for them.

However, I was not that person.

I loved my church. I am very grateful for everything I learned growing up. In fact, my father was the Pastor. And so I say this with tenderness and the most humility I can say it with, but also fully convinced that I have to say it.

Because there are people like me who have lived their lives in shame. There are people who live chained to a lie, believing that the only way to express true faith or love for God is to jump or shout, and if they do not, they must not have faith. Somewhere along the way, they got that idea.

My lack of shouting, dancing or jumping has never had anything to do with my unbelief or even fear of what people might think. It had everything to do with being a naturally quiet, more introverted person and therefore it affects how I express joy, passion, excitement, or really any emotion.

The most heartfelt gifts I’ve received have been the ones where I feel like people genuinely see me. The book about God ordained art and creativity, which my brother ordered for me one random day. The sweatshirt he also designed for me, bearing the name of my old blog - From Awkward to Art. A t-shirt that said “Write Away” gifted to me by a friend at church, who knows I love to write. A collection of Kurt Cobain’s journal writings and songs from my husband. A recent birthday gift from a friend that included a Rolling Stone magazine with Pearl Jam on the cover, along with a sincere note written on the back of a photo she printed out of Gilbert Blythe (from Anne of Green Gables).

As silly or trivial as some of the things may seem to others, they speak volumes to me. Because they are the little ways people have seen me and understand the things I love. And they made me so happy. But never once did I get excited and shout or leap with joy. With every single gift, I had to hold back the tears. So much so, it may have seemed like I didn’t appreciate them. But I loved them so much, that if I were to speak, I couldn’t do so without a shaky voice and choked back sobs.

I’ve often heard phrases spoken in church services like “How would you act if Jesus were here in person? How would you act if your body was made whole?” Indicating that surely you would shout and dance, and jump for joy; therefore, do that.

I was talking to my husband about this the other day, and I said to him, I could 100% tell you this in total and complete honesty, if Jesus appeared before me right now in the flesh, touched my body and all my sicknesses or ailments were immediately made whole, all my problems dissolved, I would not shout. I would not jump. I would not run or dance.

I would cry.

I would bawl my eyes out. I would fall on my face, and I would grab the hem of his robe. I would hold onto his legs and weep until my eyes were swollen. I would thank him for being who He is. I would thank Him for carrying me through the hardest moments of my life, and I would thank Him for giving me wisdom when I needed it. I would cry and cry and cry. And then I would look at Him and think to myself, how is this possible? How is it that Jesus is here and that He created me and He loved me all along? How is he here with me? I would sit silently in reverence, awe, and pure admiration. I would gaze at Him. And I would finally rest.

That is exactly what I would do. I know this because as I write this, tears are streaming down my face just thinking about Him.

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Recently, I heard a person say something along the lines of “I don’t care if you’re an introvert. You are supposed to be sharing the love of Jesus with others!” Spoken in such a way, from the mouth of a very extroverted person, that made a quiet person like me feel so much shame, once again.

I, the girl who weeps for lost, broken people and asks God for compassion and love at the young age of nineteen years old. The girl who shares her heart so sincerely, hoping it might help just one person. I felt so much shame for being exactly who God created me to be. An image bearer of God. I felt shame because I, once again, didn’t express myself in such a way that impressed others. Or I didn’t perform in such a way that demonstrated my love or passion for God and people, in the same way others do.

I felt shame.

However, I will say this. I woke up and broke through that feeling. After barely surviving a lifelong insecurity, I am now daringly confident in who God created me to be. I know that I know, I am created in His image. And if I, and all of the other quiet-natured people of the world, are created in His image, our unique expression of joy and love and gratefulness is a reflection of His character just as much as the many other expressions of God, in the many different kinds of people.

Quiet, creative, reflective, sensitive…. I am a reflection of God, designed in His image. And if you find yourself in this category, so are you. There is nothing inherently wrong with you.

This person’s comment made me wonder about some things, though. Because I do care so much for others. I cried out to God- ‘How do people like me, the quiet people, the still, the genuine, sensitive, but wholehearted people, reach others? How do we bring hope to others when it’s so hard to talk that our hands shake and our voices shake, and we can’t articulate our thoughts when we are put on the spot?

How do we reach others when people come right out and laugh in our faces and say, “Why are you shaking like that?” (True story.)

The answer He gave me was baked into my question. I was saying to Him, ‘This is all I have God. What do I do? What do I possibly have to give?"‘

Immediately, I thought of Peter and John in the Book of Acts (chapter 3). There was a lame man, a beggar, asking for money. Peter said, “Well, I don’t have that, but I can give you what I do have….”

(Silver and gold have I none, but such as I have give I thee- Acts 3:3)

People certainly have an idea of how things should look or how people must illustrate themselves. We all do it. Even church people. But the thing is, we don’t all hold the exact same thing in our hands. We were gifted individually and designed purposefully, with unique expressions of God on the inside of us.

That doesn’t mean that God won’t ask us to do uncomfortable things. But what I heard myself say in that moment was, “Charisma, high energy, outgoingness, the ability to speak - I have none.” And God reminded me, you have compassion, love, sincerity, the ability to create, to write, to be real. Those are all gifts I’ve put on the inside of you. Reflections of me.

Such as I have, give I thee….

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Extroversion and introversion are not good versus bad. It is society that emphasizes the big and the bold. Volume is deemed more courageous. Even the church has put more weight on the jumpers and the shouters. Not only does God look at the heart, but he often uses the meek and the unlikely to do mighty things.

There is a particular kind of strength in a quiet spirit. He tells us to be still and know that He is God.

A few people come to mind as I write this.

Moses was a Hebrew man, but was raised as an Egyptian. So when God wanted to set the Israelite people free from Egyptian slavery, he sent Moses. We know that Moses told God right off the bat, I am a horrible speaker and people won’t listen to me. Moses had the influence and the background with the Egyptians, but God let his brother Aaron be his spokesperson. (Exodus 6)

Remember Mary and Martha. Both were close friends of Jesus. In this case, Martha is the more outspoken, more energetic, and preoccupied sister, who often gets a bad rap for her ‘doing’ rather than her sitting. She was the more anxious of the two. Meanwhile, her sister Mary, was quiet and preferred to hide herself at the feet of Jesus and listen to him speak. But both loved Jesus dearly and were close to Him, but the busier, more vocal sister is the one who Jesus needed to redirect and remind what was important.

In 1 Samuel 1:13, we see Hannah, who desperately wanted a child. She wasn’t loud and didn’t appear to be bold in her prayers, but rather she was quietly pouring out her heart, so soft, she could barely be heard.

Paul encourages Timothy, who was young and likely not the ideal person for teaching or leading others, not to let others dismiss or think less of him because he is young. He told him to be an example in the way he lives, in love, in purity, and to simply be an encouragement to the believers. (I Timothy 4: 12-13)

In the same way, those of us who are quiet, can lead and serve and love in many ways that have nothing to do with public speaking or a bedazzled approach to expressing ourselves.

We have much to give. You have much to give. Don’t let mistaken ideas about your identity deter you from bringing the hope that you carry to others.

Such as I have, give I thee.

Hopefully, something I said helped or encouraged someone out there. I love my solitude. I love to be still before God. I love my quiet-natured self. But it took me a long time to realize God had a reason for designing me this way and it has it’s purpose. Like I said, I still struggle here and there when people make remarks that urge me to believe I need to be a certain way to be effective. But the emails and messages I have received along my writing journey remind me that even in what seems silence to some, we will speak loudly to others.

Julie