An Introverted Thanksgiving

It is Canadian Thanksgiving today, so happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Canadians!

There is something so absolutely comforting about the crisp fall air, the orange and yellow leaves, and the smell of turkey overtaking the neighbourhood. It takes me back to my childhood when we would go to my grandparents’ house for Thanksgiving. By the time we’d arrive, Grandma’s turkey had been in the oven for hours, and our mouths watered in anticipation.

Being with family during the holidays is a true blessing, but even those we love most can drain our social energy. Somewhere among the pre-meal visit, the loud table with plates and platters being passed around, the apple pie (yes, apple, we are not a pumpkin pie family), and the post-meal visit over coffee and tea, my battery started to run low.

There’s no need to crash. Just come prepared.

If you are like me, you may have a pair of “turkey pants.” Not pants that have turkeys on them, while I’m sure many people enjoy that kind of fashion, it’s not my aesthetic. I mean pants that are a little loose, maybe they have a drawstring for a little extra comfort after eating just a little too much turkey. Perhaps you also plan your breakfast and lunch with the evening meal in mind, ensuring you have the room necessary to indulge in decadent goodness. There’s no point in filling up on Eggo waffles and bologna sandwiches earlier in the day when you have turkey and all the fixings set for the evening.

In a similar way, plan your day to preserve your social battery. Spend the morning with a good book and a cup of coffee. If the living room is full of people, ask Grandma if she needs help in the kitchen. I have enjoyed many restorative niches1, busying myself with carving the bird for the family. Nobody disturbs me as I focus on the bird, and I get credit for helping with supper. It’s a win-win.

Need some time to just enjoy a little solitude? Take a short walk after the meal to let your food settle. Even if others join in the walk, it will be a little quieter than inside, and fresh air is almost always an effective balm for the introverted mind and soul.

Clearing the table and helping wash the dishes can also be a settling and restorative experience. Remember, a restorative niche isn’t meant to be long or to fully refresh you; it’s a short break from the action to collect your thoughts and return with a little extra energy to engage meaningfully with the people you love. If you run out of ideas, don’t forget that the bathroom will always be a place of refuge for the weary introvert.

Somewhere between the dishes and the quiet walk, gratitude settles in, not loud or performative, but deep. The kind that reminds you that every good and perfect gift, including solitude, is from the Father above.

  1. A restorative niche, a term coined by Harvard professor Brian Little, is a short retreat to gather oneself when a longer break is not possible. Dr. Little shared the story of having long days of guest lecturing draining his social energy, so he would hide in a bathroom stall for 5-10 minutes to enjoy some quiet solitude.

Metacognition & Introverted Worship

Every so often, I think it’s essential to remind you that introversion is a spectrum, and not everything I write, as an introvert, will be relatable to everyone on the introverted side of the spectrum. Some extroverts may find themselves relating to my experiences on a personal level. As you read today’s post, some of you will breathe a sigh of relief that you’re not the only one feeling this way, while others, even deeply introverted people, may find nothing in common with this scenario. Here we go.

Metacognition

Metacognition is a fancy term that simply means thinking about thinking. And I believe it’s one of the primary reasons that introverts often worship differently than their extroverted sisters and brothers in Christ.

As I’ve talked with other introverted Christians, I’ve picked up on a common thread. We are typically less expressive in our worship. That doesn’t mean we’re not “into” the worship. It doesn’t mean we love Jesus less. It simply means our worship sometimes looks different. For example, an extrovert could easily catch the social contagion of active worship and raise their hands and sway side to side, feeling no deep connection with the Holy Spirit or a particular love for Christ, but rather a deep sense of connection to the people around them. An introvert could be sitting during the lively worship set, quiet and still, filled with gratitude for God’s mercy and love for us.

Do not judge a book by its cover. I’m not saying all extroverts are putting on a show and that all non-singing introverts are deep in worship. But don’t judge a book by its cover.

& Introverted Worship

Last night we had a night of worship at our church, 90 minutes of singing together. At one point, the worship leaders encouraged people to “be free” in worship. I think they meant a particular kind of freedom. The freedom to dance and clap and hoot and holler. I don’t think they meant that we should feel free to sit still and not sing at all, but rather allow the words and music to wash over us, and carefully consider the meaning of the words.

Many people came to the front of the sanctuary and knelt on the floor, or raised their hands and danced. Towards the end of the evening, the worship team played some more celebratory praise songs, and a worship mosh pit formed in front of me. I had zero desire to join the group. They looked like they were having fun, singing loud and exuberantly; what more could a worship team desire from a crowd?

I used to worry it was rebellion. A desire to not conform to the group. I would get particularly distracted whenever a worship leader would give me instructions. Chris Tomlin once told a group of about 5,000 youth leaders to hold hands and dance in unison. I was one of the 5,000 and hated every second of this activity. While Chris, I’m sure a godly man with a pure heart, delighted in making a bunch of adults dance like David, I was not dancing in freedom. No, I was a captive, a hostage. Had I any inkling that Chris would make me do this, I would have already been in the bathroom, playing Angry Birds on my phone, waiting out the activity.

Not Rebellious, Just Introverted

I’ve learned it’s not rebellion. It’s metacognition. While extroverts often have the ability to just do something for the fun of it, introverts often are in two places at once. We are simultaneously in the event itself, but also observing it as an outsider would. We are thinking about the activity while we are doing it. I’m considering holding hands with a stranger, something I would never do voluntarily. I’m thinking about jumping up and down with a few thousand adults. Not thinking about how grateful I am for God’s mercy and love, no, I’m thinking about how silly this all is. I’m thinking about how tired my feet are after walking through the conference all day, now jumping to a worship song, unable to sing as my knees and back grow weary. Silently recounting how many times Chris has sung the bridge to try and anticipate how much longer the song might be. I wonder if the men on either side of me are as uncomfortable as I am and would much rather sit in the lobby and pray for each other’s families and ministries.

Sure, it would be great to just get lost in the moment and let go. But that’s not how I’m wired. It may be a hindrance at a worship event, but what a blessing it is when sitting next to someone in hospice care. Quietly listening to the person’s stories without interjecting my own. What a blessing it is to feel comfortable when the conversation lulls and stalls, with no anxious moments, as the room has been silent for three and a half minutes.

Like many introverts, there are times when I am more demonstrative in my worship. But it’s when I feel like God delights in it, not Chris Tomlin, or my local worship leader. When I feel like there’s a point to it, not just a feeling, but an understanding that God is delighting in this natural response to those moments of silent reflection.

I’m all for pushing our comfort zones. However, I would always caution the extroverted half of the church that our lack of visible action does not mean we are less than. Worship leaders, if God is telling you to tell us to do something, then obey. But if it’s just because you want us to mirror what you are doing, realize that many of us have been taken out of obedience to God to make a decision whether or not to obey you.

Costco: The Introvert’s Ideal Retreat

During the research portion of my dissertation, I had the opportunity to speak with a good number of introverted and extroverted church leaders. I was extremely encouraged by the men and women I interviewed, and I believe it was a mutual feeling.

One of the most exciting aspects of research is discovering counterintuitive findings. It was exciting to disprove some of my own assumptions about how other introverts operate.

One of the unexpected findings was that the vast majority of introverted church leaders have experienced a deep level of church hurt due to their preference for introversion. But that’s not what today’s post is about.

One introverted leader told me that when they need a break during a busy day of meetings and other socially expensive interactions, they go to Costco. Of course, I had to ask: why on earth would an introvert who is feeling socially drained go to Costco to recharge? I’m not sure about the Costco nearest you, but they are typically known to be full of people pushing around oversized shopping carts with oversized boxes and bundles of everything from fresh produce to hydraulic vehicle lifts.

The pastor said that they hadn’t really thought about it before. They just got into a rhythm in which they escaped to Costco for a quick recharge. When I pressed, they paused to think about why. Not only to explain it to me but to make sense of it for themselves.

Their conclusion?

Costco, for this pastor, is recharging because it’s full of people who don’t care about him. As he processed in real time, he said, “Yeah, it’s being surrounded by people who don’t know me and don’t care to know me.” There’s something cathartic about being anonymous, being surrounded by dozens, even hundreds of people who are ambivalent to his existence.

You might still be asking, why?

When a pastor is at church, they are typically in high demand. Parishioners want to talk to us. Leaders want to talk to us. Volunteers want a moment of our time. Other staff members want to discuss upcoming plans. Endless emails and text messages and administrative duties. You can’t really relax in the office. Sundays, of course, are the ultimate challenge for any introverted pastor. Dozens of conversations about sports or weather, the type of small talk that breaks off a small piece of the introverted soul. Sundays, from beginning to end, are a socially draining gauntlet.

But at Costco, no one wants to talk to you. No one is popping into your office for a quick chat. No one steps in front of you saying, “Pastor, I know you’re busy but…” No one is telling you what you have been doing wrong and need to change, which happens to be the exact opposite of what the previous person just praised you for. You are anonymous, and there’s something beautiful about that. There’s something so filling about being surrounded by people who couldn’t care less about you. The only people who want to talk to you are those who are offering you free food.

So what’s the lesson?

Sometimes the best recharge isn’t where you expect it. It might not be solitude in a quiet room, but anonymity in a quiet store. Don’t be afraid to try something unconventional; you might find a counterintuitive rhythm that fills your soul.

Right on Issue, or Right in Relationship?

In their book, Leading from the Second Chair, Mike Bonem and Roger Patterson pose the question, “Would you rather be right on the issues, or in right relationships?”

While their context is not specific to introverts, I think it’s a valuable question for us to ask.

As introverts, we typically don’t do things we don’t believe in. We are less likely to do something new just to do something new. I have often said, “Of course, my way is the best way. If there were a better way, I would do it that way.” Not that I personally pioneer the best way to do ministry. I carefully weigh all of the options available, consider the pros and cons, and make an unemotional decision that I think is best for the people I serve.

With such careful consideration, introverts often have greater conviction in their decisions than extroverts, who often jump on the boat that excites them the most in the moment. When others are critical of my ministry, it can feel like they are being critical of me because my ministry decisions are incredibly personal. I have thought deeply about the whys and the whats of ministry and can confidently give reasons for everything that we do or don’t do.

As introverted leaders, we think deeply and with purpose, and as a result, we come to our beliefs with strong convictions. These strong convictions come with a deep sense of right and wrong. Partner this with the fact that introverts only need a small group of close friends, and we can understand the nuance behind Bonem and Patterson’s question, “Would you rather be right on the issues, or in right relationships?”

A problem can arise when we care so deeply about being right that we can unintentionally damage the relationships that give voice to our convictions. Influence comes through trust, not simply having a ten-point explanation why we are correct on a certain matter. If people don’t feel like they can trust me, it doesn’t matter how much I am in the right; they won’t follow. But when I invest in relationships, my convictions gain a hearing.

The truth is, being right doesn’t always lead to change. In fact, being right at the wrong time, or in the wrong way, can close doors instead of opening them.

For introverted leaders, the call is not to compromise on conviction, but to continue cultivating good relationships with supervisors, colleagues, and those under our leadership. Our influence flows not only from what we believe but from the trust others have in us.

So maybe the question isn’t simply, “Am I right in this decision?” but “Am I building the kind of relationships that will allow my rightness to bear good fruit?”

Rhythms for Real Life

Most people likely think of rhythms in terms of calendars and schedules. We try to take regularly scheduled days off. We try to take a vacation week with the family (bonus points if you’re not responding to texts or emails on the beach while you’re kids make sand castles). A Sabbath pencilled in on a Sunday.

That’s not wrong, and I believe it’s realistic at certain stages of life, but it’s not the whole story. True spiritual rhythms aren’t just about where we slot “rest” into our schedules. Healthy rhythms are about listening to the deep pulse of the soul and moving with it.

Let’s be honest: Church culture doesn’t always help with this. While on paper, churches may encourage their pastors and leaders to take regular breaks, stay well-rested and connected with family. At the same time, there is a reality that services happen every Sunday (with multiple services for some of us), volunteers need to be recruited and trained, many ministries kick off in the fall and don’t have time to take a breath until Christmas break. Add in hospital visits and coffee meetings with parishioners, counselling sessions and administrative duties. Ministry quickly begins to feel like you’re trying to hold onto a merry-go-round that just keeps speeding up.

Healthy rhythm is less like scheduling a gym class and more like breathing. Inhale: retreat, reflect, rest. Exhale: engage, serve, give. Both matter. Both are holy. But we often forget to breathe in, and when we never let our souls inhale grace, we start to suffocate under the weight of ministry and life. That’s when frustration, irritability, and numbness can creep in, and we wonder why we don’t feel close to God anymore.

Jesus lived by this kind of rhythm. He preached to crowds (exhale), but withdrew to lonely places to pray (inhale). He healed the sick (exhale), but He also took naps in boats (inhale). He gave Himself for others, but He also sat at a table with friends. His rhythm wasn’t mechanical, it wasn’t “one-size-fits-all,” and it wasn’t frantic. It was responsive. He knew when to stop. He knew when to leave the crowds behind and go somewhere else. He lived by the rhythm set out by the Father, not the demands of everyone else’s agenda.

So, how do we find rhythms for real life?

  1. Pay attention to your soul’s dashboard lights. Irritability, distractions, and numbness aren’t random. They are signs your soul needs rest.
  2. Build micro-rhythms, not just mega-rhythms. Don’t wait for the annual vacation or the weekend off. Find daily pauses. A five-minute walk, a quiet prayer, or even closing your eyes at your desk can reset you more than you realize.
  3. Ask: Am I inhaling as much as I’m exhaling? Serving is beautiful, but service without receiving is like exhaling until you faint. Grace must be breathed in before it can be breathed out.

A healthy rhythm isn’t just about effective scheduling. It’s a dance with the Spirit. And when we learn to move at His tempo, we discover something surprising: we’re not running out of energy all the time. We’re not resenting the people we’re called to serve. We’re not faking joy. Instead, we find ourselves refreshed, restored and able to love well.

Real rhythms for real life aren’t about perfect calendars. They’re about listening to the pulse of your own soul and the quiet voice of the Spirit, then moving to the beat.

You May Be Your Own Best Advocate

The Background

For most of my twelve years at my current church, I’ve worked with relatively loose oversight in a mid-sized congregation of about 150 people, supported by two full-time and five part-time staff. We lacked official policies, HR, and often clear job descriptions.

Over the past twelve years, we’ve partnered with Church Renewal (CR). If you’re unfamiliar, it’s not a traditional church growth strategy, though we’ve experienced numeric growth. It focuses on helping pastors and leaders abide in Christ faithfully and teach renewal practices to their congregations. This isn’t a pitch for CR, just context. During this time, we also moved to a larger facility and have grown to approximately 600 attendees on Sundays with an expanded staff, including four full-time and ten part-time members.

With this growth, leaders are now focusing on policies, procedures, and HR needs. Staff have updated job descriptions and clarified responsibilities. Recently, we discussed which events are mandatory for staff, pastoral staff, encouraged, or optional.

The Lesson

Before diving into the background, the main lesson I’ve learned is that advocating for yourself—especially as an introverted leader—is critical for thriving over the long haul. Don’t stay quiet and simply adapt; learning to voice your needs shapes a healthier work environment for everyone.

Why?

We don’t like confrontation and are often the lone dissenting voice in meetings, so we usually keep it to ourselves. We prefer to think out our responses, so if a topic arises unexpectedly, we haven’t had time to process. We want to analyze: Is making events mandatory reasonable? What will it cost personally?

The Answer

My doctoral research revealed that one of the key indicators of remaining healthy in leadership over the long haul is having an advocate, and often that means you need to advocate for yourself.

During that meeting, I held back my words while I processed my thoughts. I shared a little: like the fact that some of us do not work office hours, but are in the building already 3 nights, so that’s worth considering when we make events mandatory. It’s also different for employees with young children than it is for those who are empty-nesters.

After the meeting, I followed up with our senior pastor; actually, he followed up with me. And I had some time to reflect further on it. In the safety of a closed discussion with my pastor, I was able to better advocate for myself and others on staff who have different hours and home situations.

Why it works

There’s no audience to jump in and interrupt me or devalue my perspective. I’m sure that other staffers don’t mean to devalue my input, but when they quickly cut me off or tell me outright it’s not valid, it teaches me to speak less.

I’ve also had time to sort out my emotions so that I can share my thoughts free from the emotions that are negatively tied back to a past position. In my previous position, I was expected to put in over sixty hours every week as a minimum. They justified it by saying everyone volunteers, so pastors ought to give their forty paid hours and then volunteer above and beyond. I agree with this, but not to the tune of 20-30 hours a week.

Can you think of a time that you felt steamrolled in a meeting and frustrated? There are strategies to slow down meetings or, as in this instance, circle back later one-on-one to freely give thoughtful input.

The truth is, introverts are often more thoughtful and slower to respond, which means our feedback is often worth listening to. If you are an introvert, consider discussing with your leadership the possibility of slowing down meetings. Help them to understand your need for space in the meeting to process before sharing. Help them pay attention to not only the quantity of words shared at meetings, but also the quality. Request an agenda in advance so you can prepare your thoughts before the meeting. Ask for follow up meetings; they don’t have to be long, but just take the opportunity to debrief quickly when necessary.

If you are an extroverted leader, intentionally create space for introverts to share by inviting their input, encouraging reflection, and following up for their feedback. Actively choose to foster a culture where all voices are valued.

When You Lose Your Voice

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 Six Stages of Accepting You’re an Introvert

There’s a good chance you are familiar with the Kubler-Ross Grief Cycle, more commonly known as the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

As I was thinking about today’s post, I was thinking about my journey from actively denying my introversion and trying to act like an extrovert to acceptance and even celebration of my personality type.

Why did I deny my type and try to wear the ill-fitting mask of an extrovert? I thought that was the ideal type to be a leader in the church. Because there were few examples of effective introverted church leaders, certainly none that I knew personally and could talk to. Because the majority of the job postings I saw for pastors drew a picture of a gregarious, outgoing, charismatic, endlessly energetic foyer warrior, and I was certainly not him. Because our culture has a long-standing bias toward extroverted leadership, in fact, extroverts in general. In her book, Quiet, Susan Cain calls this the “extrovert ideal.”

So, today I present to you the Smith’s Introverted Acceptance Cycle, the six stages of loving your introverted self.

Stage One – Denial

Yes, just like the five stages of grief, stage one is denial.

You’re not anti-social, you like people! You aren’t shy; you just get tired around people. You’ve known people who are introverts. They sit off to the side with their nose in a book while the rest of the class plays kickball at recess, that’s not you. Those people are not cut out for leadership, and you are called by God to lead, so surely you can’t be one of those!

Stage Two – Shame

This is the internalized misunderstanding stage. You are starting to realize that you just might be an introvert because you struggle to keep up with your extroverted colleagues. You are starting to realize that you need a lot more quiet time than they do, and now you’re conflicted.

You start believing the lie that something is wrong with you because you don’t fit the extrovert mould. Perhaps you apologize for your quieter presence, or maybe you try to overcompensate. The result? Shame.

Stage Three – Comparison

You watch an extroverted pastor work the room. With a big smile and a loud voice, they move swiftly through the crowd, greeting 20 people in 20 minutes flat. Their conversations are not strained, no long pauses where they can’t seem to think of anything to say.

You start to mentally berate yourself for being such a terrible pastor. Obviously, you believe, the extroverted pastor is far more effective than you are, but you can’t seem to kick yourself hard enough to do it. More shame. More internalized misunderstanding.

Stage Four – Recognition

You start to realize that maybe you are wired differently, but that doesn’t mean that you’re wired to fail. Perhaps you followed an extroverted pastor on a hospital visit. You saw how efficient they were getting in and out of rooms without ever getting their hands or hearts dirty. Popping in and out of rooms, checking off the list and feeling pride at both visiting everyone on the list and getting out of there in record time. (Purely hypothetical, of course.)

And you reflected on that experience and thought, “I would not do it that way. I wanted to sit next to their beds and listen to their hearts. I wanted to pray with them, or simply sit in silence. Soak in the uncomfortable truth that life will end, and though we have the hope of heaven, it still hurts.”

And then you thought, “Maybe I am wired for ministry. Maybe I have strengths that the others don’t.” You learn that deep focus, follow-through, listening well, deep reflection, and deep connection are beautiful gifts.

Stage Five – Ownership

You can finally stop apologizing for being an introvert and own it. In fact, you start to shape your leadership style around this new development. Instead of trying to be everything to everyone, you learn that there is a place for you to thrive. Perhaps it’s behind the scenes. Perhaps it’s alongside a congregant in hospice. Perhaps it’s leading staff or teaching.

I’m not trying to limit what you can do, but I’d like to share some examples of things I enjoy doing. And you’ll find them too, and lean into them. Sure, you may continue to struggle in those obligatory networking times, but you’ll feel less guilt because you can now focus on real connections with a few, rather than a shallow connection with many. You recognize the value that you bring to the table.

Stage Six – Honour

Finally, you no longer simply accept the fact that you are an introverted leader, but you can celebrate that God has wired you this way. You can become the model for others that you never had. Speak life into other introverted leaders, helping them realize that they are not “second-rate” leaders, just different. You can become an advocate and thrive in ministry where you are, as you are.

We’re all on a journey with God. If you are anywhere along this path I’ve laid out, I’d love to hear from you. I’d love to encourage and bless you in your introverted leadership journey!

Well-Defined & Closed-Ended

One of the worst things you can do to an introverted leader is to tell them, “Just hang out and mingle” or “Just show up and help wherever.” It is like telling them to hit a moving target without even describing what it looks like.

I have been in these situations, and I felt lost. I’ve spoken with other introverted pastors who dread these types of work events. We awkwardly make our way around the room, struggling to make small talk with strangers, or even worse, talk to people who have attended our church for five years, but we’ve never actually conversed! Afterward, we reflect on our failures as foyer flourishers and feel the guilt that we can’t work a room like our extroverted counterparts.

The problem is that extroverted pastors often enjoy the freedom to improvise. They flourish in an environment with a lack of structure. One extroverted pastor I spoke with told me that he doesn’t care if the team is moving in the wrong direction, as long as they are moving.

Most introverted pastors are not wired that way. We like structure. We like well-defined goals. We like closed-ended timelines. We flourish when there is a clear bar to hit.

Extroverts like Jazz

I’m not saying that all extroverts love jazz music, but most of them love the concept. Jazz, to me, seems like a lawless, wild adventure with no beginning and no end. My extroverted friends have shared discomfort with the idea of committing to one way of doing things; they want to be surprised by the outcome.

Introverts like Football

Once again, I’m not saying all introverts like to watch football (though I do love to watch CFL and cheer for my Saskatchewan Roughriders). What I mean is this: football has well-defined boundaries. There is a clock to tell you exactly how much time is left. There is a scoreboard to let you know exactly where you stand in the process of completing your goal. Within those rules, there is a great amount of freedom to be creative… within the rules!

What’s Next?

If you are an introverted pastor, it is ok to get clarification. One of the questions I ask during staff meetings is very simple: “Why?” I don’t want to do things just to do things. Why are we doing them? Are they adding to our ministry or simply adding to our schedule? While extroverts on staff can gain excitement and momentum over an idea, sometimes we need to ask the question if this idea is actually worth doing, or it’s just something to do.

If you are an extroverted leader and you want to set up your introverted staff for success, let them know what the “win” is. What are the agreed-upon goals and desired outcomes? How long are we going to work toward the agreed-upon goal before we evaluate? How does this action promote the overall vision and mission of the organization?

And finally, start and end on time. I schedule my time. I am protective of my free time. I’m purposeful with my work time. It is so discouraging if I am at a meeting on time (which is 10 minutes early) and we hit 15 minutes past the start time, and the leader says, “Let’s just wait a few more minutes for everyone to get here.

Nope. Don’t like that. Why are you dishonouring those who showed up on time in order to honour those who didn’t? Why am I staying late for this meeting, squeezing time out of my next scheduled task, because people are late?

Respecting time respects people. Start on time, end on time, and watch how much more energy your introverted leaders bring to the table.

Relatively Undisturbed Lives

As a youth pastor, summer is a relatively slow time. Sure, I’ve spoken at two camps, which meant preparing an extra 16 messages and spending an intense couple of weeks hanging out with teens. Trust me, it still feels slow compared to the September-June routine of ministering through a school year. With that break, I’ve been able to get a lot more reading done than usual, including a book my daughter, a YWAM-Brisbane staffer, suggested to me.

My daughter recommended Discipleship Begins with Beholding by Samuel Whitefield, so I naturally ordered a copy on Amazon and took it with me to camp. It’s a good read. I don’t think I enjoyed it as much as Emma, but I’m glad I read it. There’s one phrase, though, that jumped out to me.

Relatively Undisturbed Lives

In Psalm 132, David locks eyes with God’s beauty, and it wrecks him. That ache becomes his heartbeat: “I will not give sleep to my eyes… until I find a place for the LORD.” He won’t rest until God rests among His people. And in his own unsettled life, he modelled what a longing for God looks like.

Nearly three thousand years later, that longing remains unanswered. Jesus hasn’t returned. Heaven hasn’t touched earth. And yet… there are many of us who no longer ache. We live what Samuel Whitefield describes as “relatively undisturbed lives”: lives of quiet Sunday religion, hasty prayers, and missions more about comfort than sacrifice.

We sing “Jesus is coming again.” But do we feel it? Do we live with the ache of anticipation, or with the complacency of contentment?

Comfort Is a Danger Zone

Here’s the thing: no one scoffs at rest. But if we’re resting on our terms, without longing, we’ve lost something. David’s heart broke under the weight of divine beauty. Our hearts barely flutter when Jesus isn’t at the center. That’s the real crisis.

Jesus endured the cross so that He could receive His inheritance. And He’s still waiting patiently and graciously for His bride to awaken with His zeal. Yet many of us snooze, barely noticing.

What Would David Do Today?

Imagine David’s psalm rising in our churches today. He’d challenge us:

  • Are you living with longing or settling for ease?
  • Are your prayers urgent or habitual?
  • Do your actions reflect a world waiting for its king?

We Need a Witness of Longing

The world doesn’t need more people who sound good on Sundays. We need people who look like they are living in exile, homesick, yearning, anchored in something not yet seen.

Imagine a church so full of longing that people would ask, “What are they waiting for?” Then the answer wouldn’t be, “Comfort,” but “Jesus.”

Step Toward the Ache

  • Sit quietly and let God’s absence, yes, absence, be felt.
  • Ask: “Do I miss you more than my schedule, my successes, my security?”
  • Pray with David:
    “I will not rest until you dwell among us.”

If we live without longing, we risk loving the age, not the King. May our hearts ache, not for the past or our comfort, but for the day when His kingdom comes and God finally rests among His people.