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.

Hi, I’m Josh, and I’m an Introvert

I’m writing a short post this week because I’m currently at a youth summer camp. I have the honour and privilege of speaking at two camps this summer. This week, I’m sharing God’s Word with a group of junior and senior high students. In August, I’ll speak at another camp for grade six to eight students.

Whenever I spend time with a group that doesn’t know me yet, I make a point to mention, briefly, that I’m an introvert. I don’t make a show of it, and I don’t let it define me. But I do believe it’s an important piece of my introduction.

Why bring it up at all?

Because when I say it out loud, the introverts in the room breathe a little easier. They know they’re being addressed by someone who understands them. They know I won’t force them into awkward hand-holding or hyped-up group exercises just for the sake of noise and energy. They know I’m not about hype. I’m about connection.

Hopefully, that simple comment also takes down a wall between us. Especially in a camp setting, where there’s lots of unstructured time during meals and activities, it opens the door for quieter students to come sit beside me. They know I prefer one-on-one conversation. They know if they sit down, they’ll be heard. They’ll have my full attention. And they’ll find a kindred spirit.

On the other hand, I also want the extroverts to have a little insight into how I operate. Like many introverts, I’ve been told that I “look mad,” “seem miserable,” or worse. Truth is, my face often forgets to look as welcoming as my heart actually is. When I’m deep in thought, my features settle into what I call resting sermon face, not angry, just internally processing the eschatological implications of snack time.

I want students to know that I am here for them. I may not be front and center in the mosh pit during worship (yes, worship at youth camps sometimes does turn into a holy mosh pit), and I might not be the loudest cheerleader during the field games. But that doesn’t mean I’m distant. It just means I might need a little help getting there.

I’m not trying to become more outgoing. I’m trying to bring students into my world, so they know what to expect, and so they know they’re welcome. Yes, there will be times I’m in my room, recharging. But most of the time? I want to be approached. I want to hear their stories. And I want to speak life into them.

Inferiority Complex

Personal Confession

This past week, I caught myself doing something that surprised me, and maybe you’ve done it too. I started wondering who might replace me in my role as the youth pastor at my church. To clarify, I have no plans nor desire to leave my position, at least not for another 9 years when my youngest daughter graduates. Back to my question: Who would I choose as my replacement? In my mind, the ideal candidate wasn’t someone like me. It was someone gregarious, outgoing, and energetic. Charismatic in all the “hype” ways.

In short, my ideal replacement is my exact opposite.


Adler and the Inferiority Complex

Alfred Adler, one of the foundational voices in modern psychology, coined the term “inferiority complex” to describe the deep-seated feeling of personal inadequacy that drives people to compensate, often by chasing unrealistic ideals or masking their perceived shortcomings

He believed that much of human behaviour is shaped not by past trauma alone, but by how we respond to feeling “less than.” We imagine what we should be like, and when we don’t match that image, we either hide, hustle, or harden.


The Church Loves a Stage Personality

In ministry, it’s easy to form an “ideal pastor” image: someone who is always smiling, high energy, extroverted, and accessible. The glide through crowds. They are amazing storytellers. They never seem drained. The trouble is, when introverted leaders adopt that model as the gold standard, it becomes a silent critique of their own design.


What the Research Says

A study cited in Introverts in the Church found that when people were asked to describe their “ideal self” and “ideal boss,” the majority described extroverted traits, even when they themselves were introverts. Extroverts are viewed as better leaders. This shows a cultural bias toward a “loud equals capable” mentality, even among introverts!

This cultural perception subtly teaches that extroversion is not just preferred, it’s required. Even introverts, like myself, begin to imagine their ideal self as someone louder than they are.


So Why Do We Think Our Opposite Would Be Better?

Because we’ve internalized a model that prizes noise over depth, presence over stillness, charisma over consistency. We’re not just trying to replace ourselves, we’re often trying to redeem ourselves by imagining someone “better.”


What’s the Truth?

The truth is, your opposite might succeed in your role. But they would lead differently, and not necessarily better. The youth ministry doesn’t need a hype machine; it needs someone who is present, thoughtful, deeply rooted, and emotionally available.

That might be exactly what you bring!

Don’t let someone else’s wiring become your measuring stick. Don’t replace yourself in your own mind with a caricature of what leadership should look like.

Lead as you’ve been designed. Not like you’re apologizing