Tag: introversion

For a long time, I thought something was wrong with me.

I loved preaching, teaching, and leading, but after Sundays, conferences, or camps, I was exhausted. Not “I need a nap” tired. More like “please don’t talk to me for 24 hours” tired. I assumed that if God had really called me to public ministry, it shouldn’t cost me this much internally.

Then I finally found language for it.

I’m an introvert with public gifts.

That single sentence reframed everything.

Introversion Isn’t the Opposite of Leadership

Somewhere along the way, the church absorbed a quiet assumption, leaders are extroverts. If you’re energized by crowds, quick with words, and always ready to engage, leadership must be your sweet spot. If you’re reflective, inwardly processing, and need solitude to recharge, you must be better suited for behind-the-scenes roles.

But introversion has never been about ability. It’s about energy.

Introverts don’t avoid people. We engage deeply, then we pay a cost for it. Public ministry doesn’t repel us, it drains us. That doesn’t mean we’re bad at it. It means we steward it differently.

Public Gifts, Private Processing

One of the consistent findings in my research was this, introverted pastors often thrive in visible leadership roles, but they do their best work before and after the spotlight, not during it.

They prepare deeply.
They reflect longer.
They replay conversations.
They pray through decisions quietly.
They process inwardly what others process out loud.

That means the sermon didn’t start on Sunday morning, it started days earlier in silence. The leadership decision didn’t happen in the meeting, it happened on a walk, in prayer, or sitting alone with a notebook.

The gift is public. The process is private.

And that’s not a flaw, it’s a feature.

Jesus Fits This Pattern Better Than We Admit

Jesus was fully comfortable teaching crowds, confronting leaders, and commanding attention. Those are public gifts if there ever were any. Yet His pattern was unmistakable.

He withdrew often.
He prayed alone.
He avoided unnecessary attention.
He didn’t rush to respond.
He chose silence when others demanded noise.

Jesus didn’t lack social ability. He lacked the need to perform.

He knew when to step forward and when to step away. That rhythm wasn’t weakness, it was wisdom.

Why This Matters for Pastors and Leaders

If you’re an introverted leader with public gifts, here’s the danger, you’ll assume exhaustion means disobedience. You’ll think needing quiet means you’re failing. You’ll try to imitate extroverted rhythms that slowly hollow you out.

That’s how burnout sneaks in wearing the mask of faithfulness.

You don’t need to become louder.
You don’t need to be “on” all the time.
You don’t need to apologize for needing space.

You need to honour how God wired you.

Public ministry will always cost you something. The goal is not to eliminate the cost but to recover properly so you can keep showing up with integrity.

A Word to Churches and Teams

If you lead alongside introverts, pay attention to what you might be missing.

Silence is not disengagement.
Stillness is not laziness.
Needing space is not selfishness.

Some of your most prayerful leaders won’t dominate meetings.
Some of your most discerning pastors will speak last, not first.
Some of your most faithful servants will care deeply without broadcasting it.

The Body of Christ needs both visible energy and quiet depth. One without the other becomes unhealthy.

Naming It Changes Everything

When I finally said out loud, “I’m an introvert with public gifts,” I stopped fighting myself. I stopped spiritualizing exhaustion. I stopped assuming that leadership had to feel energizing all the time to be right.

Instead, I learned to lead with honesty, rest without guilt, and serve without pretending.

If that phrase resonates with you, maybe it’s because you’ve been carrying the same tension quietly for years.

You’re not broken.
You’re not unfit.
You’re not failing.

You’re an introvert with public gifts.

And God has always used people like that.

Dear Introverted Reader,

Be honest with me, do you ever wish that you were more introverted?

Have you ever observed your brother-in-law at a family wedding, wearing his tie on his forehead like a headband, dancing like an absolute fool? Part of you is embarrassed by his absolute void of shame for causing such a scene, but another part of you is envious of his lack of inhibitions, free from liquid courage, no less!

I confess, I believe life would be easier if I were more extroverted.

What’s it like to flit around a room like a butterfly visiting each flower in a field, picking up energy as you go? What’s it like to make a phone call without taking time to get psyched up first and to re-calm afterward? What’s it like to be at a convention and prefer to be in groups of three, introducing yourself and saying three fun facts rather than hiding in a bathroom that’s off-the-beaten-path in sweet solitude?

I’m not saying that I want to be an extrovert, but it would be nice to be able to act more extroverted some of the time. If you can relate to that feeling, you are certainly not alone!

In her book, The Introvert Advantage, Marti Olsen Laney reported a study that had been replicated three times. Both introverts and extroverts were asked whether they would prefer their ideal self to be introverted or extroverted, and which they would prefer in their ideal leader. Both groups preferred their ideal self and their ideal leader to be extroverted.

I’m sure we’d all like to change things about ourselves, but much like our height, there’s not much we can do to cause permanent change. For better or worse, in my conversations with introverted pastors, a quiet pattern emerged: they were able to wear a mask of extroversion for about half a decade, but around that time, something had to give: their health, their joy, or their job. Susan Cain refers to this as the Rubber Band Theory.

When we act in ways that align with our personality preferences, we are like a rubber band at rest. Conversely, when we are required to do things that go against our natural patterns, we are like the rubber band pulled further towards its limits. We are elastic, and we can stretch ourselves, but only so much before we break.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still proud to be an introvert and thankful for the gifts that come with this personality type. We, as introverts, have many gifts to offer the church, and need to be confident in who God has created us to be, but it’s ok to be honest about our struggles too.

If you have spent years stretching yourself thin trying to act like someone you are not, maybe it’s time to let the tension ease. When you minister from your true wiring, you end up offering people something far better than performance, your presence.

I am currently taking my research from my dissertation and writing a book for introverted church leaders. I trust it will be helpful for all introverted believers; in fact, I think it’s a worthwhile read for all extroverted believers too, but the focus is on introverted church leaders.

The purpose of the book is to openly and honestly explore the strengths and challenges of being an introvert in church leadership. In doing so, there is a risk of portraying introverts as humble saints quietly following Jesus while avoiding being steamrolled by gregarious extroverted bulldozers. That is not my intention with the book. I am not shaming extroverts nor sanitizing introverts.

There have been times when I’ve questioned whether this book is relevant or whether this topic is worth exploring. Then something happens that reminds me exactly why this book is important. Let me share two very recent examples.

I regularly post videos on social media about faith, leadership, and introversion. I shared a short clip of myself, an introverted worshipper, unable to contain my excitement when the beat drops. The joke is that I went from standing completely still to gently moving side to side and tapping my coffee cup to the beat. It was a silly video poking fun at the fact that introverts are usually less outwardly expressive in their worship; it wasn’t meant to be serious. However, I received some comments on the video that made me realize this book is relevant.

One viewer commented:

Bro, I don’t even remember if I was ever an introvert. Since the fire of God entered my life, the word “introvert” doesn’t exist for me.

Another individual remarked to the first:

Haha YES!!! Good for you!! Same here… when it comes to Jesus I am LOUD!! I am a completely different person by His grace ❤️. Me He continue to bless you! [sic]

The message is clear: mature Christians are not introverts. In fact, if you have the fire of God within you, you will be delivered from the “sin” of introversion. Once you become a mature Christian, you will become a “completely different person by His grace,” a person who is no longer hindered by the enemy’s flaming arrows of introversion.

In his book Blessed are the Misfits, Brant Hansen aptly stated:

When one person insinuates that another must be spiritually lacking because of a dearth of feeling, it’s worthwhile pointing out that this is utterly foreign to the biblical concept of bearing fruit.

Another inspired text reads:

The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart (1 Samuel 16:7b).

The Sunday following these online comments, I was talking with a dear saint between church services. Being fully aware that I am our church’s resident introvert, she shared with me her own struggles as an introverted Christian. She had been advised to stop referring to herself as an introvert because she was making agreements with the enemy. Proverbs 18:21 is clear: our words hold the power of life and death. This introspective and reserved woman was told to stop speaking curses over herself, or she might never be free.

These stories might sound extreme, but they reflect common conversations within the church. I’ve been encouraged many times to stop calling myself an introvert. I’ve spoken with numerous pastors and laypeople who have been discouraged from making such negative statements about themselves. These comments are not meant maliciously; I don’t believe the people involved had any bad intentions. However, they reveal a deeper issue—one that has shaped church leadership expectations for decades: extroversion has become the assumed spiritual default.

“I just wish you’d speak up more.”
If you’re an introverted leader, you’ve probably heard that before, maybe from a colleague, a board member, or even a well-meaning church member. It’s usually said kindly, but it reveals a deeper misunderstanding of quiet people.

We often assume that passion looks loud, that leadership looks busy, and that silence means disengagement. But if you’ve ever been led by a deeply thoughtful, prayerful introvert, you know that’s not true.

Introverted doesn’t mean indifferent.

1. The Misreading of Quiet Leaders

Introverts tend to process internally before responding. In meetings, they may sit quietly while others talk, not because they have nothing to say, but because they’re still thinking. When the moment passes, it’s easy for others to interpret that as apathy.

In reality, it’s the opposite.
Introverts are often more engaged than they appear. They’re observing the dynamics in the room, weighing the words being said, and considering the ripple effects of decisions. Where an extroverted leader might process ideas aloud, an introvert does the same work silently, with equal care and conviction.

During my doctoral research, an introverted paster remarked, “By the time I speak, I’ve already written and edited three versions of my response in my head.” That’s not disinterest, that’s discipline.

2. The Depth of Quiet Concern

Introverted leaders often express care in ways that are easy to miss.
They may not rush to console someone publicly, but they’ll follow up quietly with a note, a text, or a prayerful conversation later. They may not voice opinions in every meeting, but they’ll stay up late reflecting and asking God for wisdom on how to serve best.

Their care runs deep, even when it runs silent.

That’s why churches need to learn to see beneath surface energy. Outward enthusiasm is wonderful, but it’s not the only sign of engagement. Jesus told us, “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Luke 12:34). For some leaders, that treasure is in words; for others, it’s in attention. Introverts treasure people by listening to them deeply.

3. Jesus Was Never Indifferent, but He Was Often Quiet

When we think about Jesus’ leadership, we often picture His public moments, the teaching on the mount, the feeding of the five thousand, and the fiery temple cleansing. But much of His ministry happened quietly: private conversations, quiet prayers, deliberate pauses.

In John 8, when confronted by an angry crowd demanding a reaction, Jesus stooped down and wrote in the dirt. He didn’t rush to respond. He created space for reflection, for Himself and for them.

That’s the kind of leadership our world desperately needs: not reactive, but reflective. Not indifferent, but intentional.

4. Why Quiet Care Matters

The introverted way of caring doesn’t draw attention to itself, and maybe that’s the point. Paul reminds us that the quieter parts of the body are often the most indispensable (1 Corinthians 12:22).

Introverted pastors may not always lead with fanfare, but they often lead with faithfulness, quietly preparing sermons long after everyone else has gone home, praying over names in a church directory, writing personal notes of encouragement, or simply sitting with someone in silence.

These quiet acts of care rarely trend, but they transform.

5. Creating Space for Different Kinds of Passion

Churches flourish when they learn to value different temperaments of passion. Not all fire burns the same way.

• Some flames dance high and visible.
• Others burn low and steady.

Both give light.

We do a disservice to the Body of Christ when we assume one kind of energy is holier than another. The extrovert’s enthusiasm stirs hearts; the introvert’s steadiness anchors them. One leads the song; the other listens for harmony.

6. A Call for Reframing

If you’re an introverted leader, hear this: your quietness doesn’t make you less spiritual, less passionate, or less called. The way you care may not always be seen, but it is felt. You don’t have to match someone else’s volume to match their devotion.

And if you’re serving alongside an introvert, resist the urge to measure their heart by their noise level. Ask questions. Give them time. Watch how they love in small, deliberate ways. You might discover a depth of compassion that words could never capture.

The Quiet Passion of Jesus

When we look at Jesus, we see both bold proclamation and quiet presence. He could speak to thousands, and He could sit in silence with one hurting soul. His passion wasn’t measured by how loudly He preached but by how fully He loved.

Introverted doesn’t mean indifferent. It often means someone is loving you in a way that doesn’t demand attention, with prayer, thoughtfulness, and peace.

And in a world addicted to noise, that kind of love just might sound the most like Jesus.

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.

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?”

Every day, I wake up with $100 in my wallet. Not literally. However, I generally have a daily allowance of $100. Some days, I may start with only $40 or $50. It’s my energy budget. And just like actual cash, once it’s gone, it’s gone. No overdraft protection. No credit line. When I hit zero, I’m done.

Introverts live with this kind of economy constantly running in the background. Most of us don’t wake up dreading people; we just know every social interaction comes with a cost. Some encounters are steep. Some are a bargain. Some are, frankly, overpriced.

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Expensive Interactions

Let me give you a few examples of high-ticket items:

• Unfamiliar crowds: Walking into a room full of strangers? That’s a $40 cover charge right there.
• Small talk with no substance: Draining. It might only last 5 minutes, but it’ll set me back $20.
• Conflict or confrontation: Whether it’s necessary or not, it’s a $50 purchase I can’t return.
• Being the center of attention: It might look fun. It might even go well. But that applause echoes in an empty wallet.

These aren’t bad things. They’re just costly. And like a budget-conscious shopper, I have to be wise about how often I spend.

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Affordable Interactions

Thankfully, not all social encounters come with a heavy price tag.

• Time with my spouse: Practically free. Sometimes even profitable.
• A walk with a close friend: $5 well spent, with a return of peace and connection.
• One-on-one conversations with depth: They might cost $10, but they fill me right back up.
• Being alone with God: Not a transaction, but a divine deposit. The most important recharge I have.

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Why It Matters

This little metaphor isn’t just for fun. It’s a way to explain a reality that introverts live with daily—but often can’t articulate. Most people around us aren’t trying to be draining. They just don’t realize we’re working with a limited supply.

Pastors, leaders, teachers, friends—especially if you’re extroverted—understand this: introverts aren’t anti-social. We’re budgeted. And when we disappear for a while, it’s not because we’re angry, aloof, or depressed. Sometimes we just can’t afford another interaction.

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Stewardship, Not Shame

If you’re an introvert, here’s the encouragement: You are not broken. You’re not less spiritual because you don’t thrive in crowds or love every potluck. Steward your energy like a gift. Plan accordingly. Make space to recharge.

And if you’re a church leader? Don’t mistake someone’s silence for disengagement. Their presence might have cost them $80 that day. That quiet teen in the corner? They showed up, and that may have been a bigger act of courage than anything you saw on stage.

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Final Thought

We all have different capacities and callings. But we serve the same God, and He knows exactly how much is in our emotional wallets.

And the beautiful thing? When we spend our energy wisely, in love and obedience, He often multiplies the return.

So yes, introversion comes with a cost.

But when it’s spent on what matters, it’s always worth it.

When I really began to understand what it means to be an introvert, I suggested to my wife that she might also be introverted. I think what she heard me say was, “Perhaps you have a severe condition which makes you a failure as a human being.” Of course, I’m being slightly hyperbolic here. Still, the manner in which she fiercely defended her good name as a true extrovert was an accurate reflection of how many people in Western culture feel about introversion.

I once felt the same way. There’s no way I could be an introvert. Even in my twenties I loved being the center of attention, disliked solitude, and was always up for a spontaneous adventure. How could I be an introvert???

Perhaps you’ve been flirting with the idea of coming out as introverted, but you are afraid of what that might mean for your personal, professional, and social life. Like my wife, it may feel like an awful diagnosis. But I encourage you to explore the possibility and find the freedom to embrace your true self. If you haven’t yet, take the quiz linked on my blog!

Here’s what’s going on.

Personality is More Flexible than You Think

Research indicates that your personality type isn’t truly locked in for women until your mid to late twenties and up to thirty years old for men. Your introversion or extroversion continues to drive your social energy levels increasingly, plateauing between the ages of 40-70.[1] Perhaps, after we hit 75 or 80 years of age, we will all become ambiverts.

The point is this: despite the MBTI’s binary definitions of extroversion or introversion, these personality types exist on a spectrum. It is quite possible that you may not have been extroverted as a younger person as much as you hid your introversion more easily when you were younger.

It is easy to mistake adaptation for identity. Like many young leaders, I adapted my behaviour to meet the expectations of the people around me. Young leaders see that being loud equals leadership; if they can be gregarious, they will be affirmed. Churches, schools, and parents most often praise the socially dominant over the quiet observer. So, we push and stretch ourselves to perform.

Why Define Ourselves by these Labels at all?

Why box ourselves in? What good does it do to define my personality type?

Because there is freedom in self-awareness!

When you finally stop trying to be who everyone else wants you to be and lead as the person God created you to be, you will find greater peace, clarity, and strength. You’ll give yourself permission to rest differently, lead differently, and recharge without guilt.

Even more importantly, you will learn to lead sustainably.

What’s Next?

If you’ve read this and thought, “Maybe I’m forcing myself into something that doesn’t fit,” you’re not alone! According to my research, pastors and leaders hit this realization about five to seven years into ministry.

Here’s what to do next:

1. Reflect Honestly. Ask yourself, when do I feel most alive in ministry? When do I feel most drained?
2. Name Your Needs. Don’t wait for someone to guess how to support you. Share your rhythms with trusted colleagues, mentors, and friends.
3. Give Grace. To yourself and to others. Whether you’re discovering your own wiring or learning someone else’s, remember that introverts and extroverts are both fearfully and wonderfully made.

Want help figuring out where you are on the introvert-extrovert spectrum? Or how to start leading more faithfully as yourself? Reach out. I’ve been there. And I’d love to talk with you about it.

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[1] Christian Kandler, “Nature and Nurture in Personality Development: The Case of Neuroticism and Extraversion,” Current Directions in Psychological Science 21 no. 5 (2012), 291, http://pascal-francis.inist.fr/vibad/index.php?action=search&terms=26471745.

Some introverted pastors burn out.
Others fade.
But many of us just break quietly, somewhere around year seven.

In my doctoral research on introverted pastors, I discovered a striking trend: most introverted church leaders can “pass” as extroverts for about five to seven years before the cracks begin to show. Somewhere along that ministry timeline, the soul snitches on the mask.

It’s not always dramatic; no collapse on stage or tearful resignation. But the joy starts leaking. The spark goes flat. And many begin to ask a haunting question:
“Is there something wrong with me… or am I just not built for this?”

The Extrovert Ideal in Church Culture

Susan Cain, in her groundbreaking book Quiet, coined the term “the extrovert ideal,” the cultural assumption that the best people are bold, loud, assertive, and always “on.” Churches, whether they realize it or not, often reflect this belief.

Scan most church job postings and you’ll see it:

“Outgoing.”
“Energetic.”
“Personable.”
“Visionary leader who thrives in fast-paced team environments.”

It’s no wonder that introverted pastors, many of whom are deeply called, profoundly gifted, and wildly misunderstood, end up exhausted, confused, and silently ashamed for not being more like their extroverted peers.

Why It Takes 5–7 Years to Hit the Wall

There are good reasons the mask holds for a while.

For one, personality continues to settle well into our twenties, especially in men. Young leaders are still shaping their identity, more flexible, more malleable, more eager to meet expectations at any cost.

Second, calling is powerful fuel. You feel summoned by God to lead. You don’t want to disappoint. So you stretch. Smile harder. Talk longer. Attend everything. Become someone people expect you to be.

Until one day, you can’t.

And when the mask slips, it’s not rebellion. It’s honesty.

Talk to Someone Who Gets It

In my interviews with introverted pastors, I asked one question:

“Have you ever talked to anyone about this struggle?”

Every one of them, every single one, said:

“Who would I talk to? No one else gets it.”

This is tragic. Because statistically, nearly half of all pastors probably do get it.

If that’s you, hear me clearly:
You are not broken.
You are not alone.
And you don’t have to be extroverted to be effective.

This is the beginning of an ongoing conversation, and I’d love to hear from you. If you’ve hit the seven-year wall, or you’re afraid you’re getting close, send me a message. Let’s build a space where quiet leaders can finally lead out loud, in their own way.

One of my daughters has a slight learning challenge, and she is very bright. My wife and I recently met with a team of educators to discuss her progress, and after multiple tests, they have determined that she may have a form of dyslexia; she sometimes jumbles up letters and numbers, making reading comprehension a challenge, as well as making it difficult to do math in her head. Despite her written test scores, they know that she is intelligent because she has developed strategies to work around traditional problem-solving methods. She sees things differently than most children and has learned coping strategies to keep up with her classmates.

A lot of introverted pastors have developed their own coping strategies because they have been told most of their careers that they are not “normal.” The ideal church leader is the extroverted, gregarious, Rah-Rah, lead-the-charge type of pastor. None of those words describe introverted leaders. Yet, we feel an unshakeable call to ministry, so we do our best to become who we are supposed to be.

I have talked to many introverted pastors, and it seems to take five to seven years in ministry for introverted pastors to realize that acting extroverted is not a viable, long-term solution to the problem, so we learn ways of coping. We find ways to fight against our natural grain to be effective ministers of the Gospel, spending most of our vocational lives in ill-fitting clothing.

One of the things that I have learned in the past ten years is that God created me as I am and called me as I am. Does that mean I can pull the introvert card and tell my church that I will take one-on-one coffee meetings with twelve people a year, and the rest of the time will be split between studying in my office for sermons, at home with my family or in the mountains on solo spiritual retreats? Unfortunately, no.

So what does that mean? You and I do not have to become extroverted to be effective. We need to get uncomfortable sometimes, for sure, but we have permission to take a break from the crowds, too. We have permission to get into a twenty-minute conversation after church, even if that means we’ll miss out on twenty short chit-chats to briefly connect on the surface as parishioners stream towards the parking lot before hitting up Applebees (or, in our case, Costco).

You have permission to take a restorative niche when you’re feeling drained. You have permission to be the wet blanket at staff meetings when all the extroverts are brainstorming off the rails, and you see a few minor flaws in their tsunami of ideas. You have permission to slow down staff meetings and create some space to think. Introverts are inner processors; we often get told, “Every time you share, it’s so good, you need to share more.” You can tell them, “If you want me to share more, you need to share a little less. Maybe don’t talk over me when I start sharing an idea.” You have permission to do uncomfortable things.

So, here’s my challenge to you and me. In the next few days, think about your interactions, your work habits, and your energy levels. What are you doing to simply cope? Are you cheating yourself and your family, spending all of your emotional energy in places that aren’t paying dividends? Are you forcing yourself to be someone you aren’t? And then simply reflect, we’re good at that. Reflect on what you can do to make some adjustments so that you are swimming with the current.