An Introvert Confronts Weakness

Here's something you probably know about me: I am an introvert. 

(If you don't know this about me, hi, have we met?  Because I'm guessing we haven't).

I am not an introvert who feels the need to pretend to be an extrovert.  I am quite at peace with my introverted-ness, thankyouverymuch.  I am proud of the strengths of my personality.

But oh, the weaknesses.

Contrary to popular extroverted belief, introverts don't hate people.  But they are more highly reactive to their environments. They process events differently.  Some say that introverts process stimuli more deeply ("a rich inner life," they say), and that accounts for the greater energy expense.  I am not so smug as to make that assertion.

Extroverts tend to recharge through social interaction.  Introverts tend to recharge through alone time.  So while I may enjoy myself at a party as much as the next person, it depletes my emotional resources.  I don't mind so much.  I'm pretty careful not to overbook myself, because it's best for all concerned - trust me (better yet, ask my husband).

But God's been convicting me of something lately, related to my introvertedness.

You know those spiritual gift tests?  My spiritual gifts correlate pretty strongly with my personality.  And down there at the bottom, every time, is this little thing called hospitality.

Yeah, hospitality.  I'm pretty bad at it.  You know that moment in most churches where they tell you to greet those around you?  HATE. IT.  It makes me squirm.  It makes me stutter.  It makes my heart pound and palms sweat like most people fear heights or snakes.  Because in my head, I hear: "Hey everyone!  Go shake the hand of that stranger!  You won't have enough time to say anything important, just chit-chat for a while! Oh, and if you don't do it, you're gonna look like a Scrooge."

Ugh. Ick. Ack. Blech. *shudder*

(On a side note, our home church doesn't do that.  I wonder how much of my initial attraction when we were church-hunting was subconsciously influenced by the lack of squirmy awkwardness of an obliged greeting?)

But here's the thing: hospitality is still a command.  For introverted, non-small-talking, socially awkward me.

(Disclaimer: in the below paragraphs, I'm not blaming my mom at all.  She's practicing her gifts, and that's awesome.)

My mom is a ten-talent hospitality personality.  Open up her home?  Sure, no problem.  With decaf, half-caf, hot cocoa, and ten different kinds of tea.  Growing up, we had baby showers, wedding showers, craft parties, cast parties, swimming parties, holiday meals...even two wedding receptions in our backyard.  You name it, my mom hosted it. 

I am the man in the parable with one talent.  BUT.  It's my responsibility to refuse to bury it.  I have to use it, and trust that even though my "interest rate" makes drying paint look like it's on fast-forward, God will use it.

I've been trying to do better about having people over.  About greeting the lady in the church lobby.  About initiating relationships.  About maintaining them.  And guys, it's so hard.

My lessons started small: letting go of the perfectionism that wants my one-talent hospitality to somehow look and feel like my mom's ten-talent.  Wanting to invite everyone over.  Wanting to let people stay as late as they want.  Wanting to be able to revive a lagging conversation with a joke or sheer energy.

But I am not called to this.  I am an introvert.  I *have* to keep a light schedule,or else I begin to snap at my family.  I *have* to at some point go to bed, because I am not a nice person otherwise.   I *have* to share what we have, and not try to overstretch myself with exotic menus. I *have* to focus my relationship-building on small groups of people because otherwise I get overwhelmed and my family suffers.

 I have to allow for my weaknesses, even as I confront them.  To ignore my weaknesses would be to take an alcoholic to an open bar and expect him to stay sober.

So....moral of the story is: I'm an introvert.  But that does not excuse me from obedience to commands.  I have to trust that should God require me to serve Him through a late-night, exotic dinner party, then He will provide the grace and resources necessary to do so.

But in the meantime, I need to develop my one talent in accordance with my personality and ability.  I may not be called to host weekly get-togethers, but I am called, always, to love those around me with an open heart. 

What's your one talent?