Like many churches, my home church has multiple services. Two to be exact. And, like many preachers, some Sundays I preach a long message. Fifty-nine minutes to be exact.
About forty minutes into the first sermon I felt a “frog” in my throat. By the end of the second service, my voice had gone from gravelly to squeaky. Though I’ve tried to rest my voice as much as possible over the past 27 hours, it has been reduced to a whisper.
As you may be able to imagine, it has been frustrating trying to communicate with others. A good friend of mine offered me a ticket to the Labour Day Classic in Regina. It was a great game, with great seats! However, I could not offer my voice in support of the home team, nor converse with my friend in the loud stadium. This morning, on the last day of summer holidays before the kids go back to school, it has been a great struggle communicating with my children. I’ve realized very quickly how much I take my voice for granted.
As I was considering this week’s blog and considering the challenges of being voiceless, it hit me: this is how many introverted leaders feel all the time. In a church culture that celebrates charisma, boldness, and non-stop talking, introverts often feel like their voices are lost. Not because they aren’t speaking, but because their quieter way of communicating gets drowned out.
I’ve got good news though: God doesn’t require you to out-shout the extroverts to be an effective leader. He values your voice, even if it’s quieter than the crowd.
Your voice matters, even if it’s quiet
When I lost my voice, I discovered something. I had to choose my words carefully; not everything needs to be spoken out loud. Introverted leaders already do this. We may not dominate conversations, or talk in big bursts, but certainly our daily word count is likely to be much lower than that of our extroverted colleagues. But when we do speak, our words carry weight. Quiet doesn’t mean empty; it can also mean thoughtful, deliberate, and worth listening to.
Sometimes silence speaks louder than noise
With no voice, silence fills the space. The beauty? For introverts that silence isn’t always awkward. It can be powerful. Introverts instinctively know how to let silence work for us. A pause in a meeting. Sitting is stillness with someone who is grieving. Listening fully instead of rushing to fill the air. Sometimes silence itself is the most profound form of communication.
God uses the weak voices to carry His strong Word
Throughout Scripture, God delights in using people with less-than-perfect voices. Moses stuttered. Jeremiah said he was too young. Paul admitted he wasn’t a polished speaker. Yet God used them all. Why? Because the power of the word wasn’t necessarily in the voice, but in the message. The same is true for you. Your quieter, smaller voice is not a liability. It’s a canvas for God’s strength to shine through.
Lean into your quiet strength
You don’t need to compete with the volume or the word count of the extroverts at the table. You just need to faithfully use the voice God has given you, even when it cracks, whispers, or goes hoarse. Because God can amplify even the faintest whisper when it carries His truth.
The Introverted Pastor 