Category: Uncategorized

Jumbled Thoughts

It’s retirement time (at the end of August).  I’m almost 70 (next March).  My first-born child turns 40 in less than a week (how can that be!)?  I’m a grandmother.  

My goal (set longer ago than I want to admit) to re-energize my writing has not been accomplished.  But I have 2 pages of ideas – just waiting for time to sit with them.  Because I write to process, not just to write on a schedule.  And I don’t post anything unless I think I have something worth saying.  

There are so many great things in my life – friends, people who come visit, walks on the beach, a church home that nourishes me, a great small town to live and get involved in.

But there is sadness as well.  Some is “normal” – friends going through health issues, or difficult situations, or walking through the Alzheimer’s journey with those they love.    

And then there’s a deeper level.  I grieve over the ways the church has not been the church in so many ways and in so many places to so many people.  I grieve that it has not been the life-giving place of freedom for others that it has been for me. And that honest discussions about what the church should look like today face enormous hurdles.

I’m discouraged that community seems so much harder to find in our culture these days.  It feels as if we’ve lost our ability to disagree with each other but remain friends.  The accusations leveled against each other are strong and hurtful and often vile.  The differences between preferences and convictions are ignored. I understand there are make and break issues for people, and there are appropriate places to take strong stands, but the tenor of conversation in general, in our current culture, grieves me.  The breaks in relationship feel wrong. And I don’t completely know how to address it.

I’m confused by and concerned about many of the decisions being made at high levels in our country.  And I have not yet figured out how to add my voice to those discussions in a meaningful way.  But it feels like I need to try.

As all these thoughts swirl around in my mind and my spirit, I’m wanting to speak and act with wisdom and courage and compassion and conviction, where appropriate.  I want to be a safe place for those conversations.  I want to be able to be curious about how others see things without being cut off before we can have a real exchange.  

So in this upcoming season of changes, I want to pause, rest, read, go deep with people and with the Lord, re-engage with Scripture in ways I haven’t done for a while.  I believe there is adventure, growth and calling waiting to be stepped into – even in my 70s – and I want to listen well so I can hear the still, small voice directing my steps.

Sorting Out Shyness, Fear and Introversion

Current Update – My significantly less fearful life feels normal these days. Most people are surprised to find out how shy I was. There’s a freedom in how I operate now that didn’t become a reality until my 40s, 50s, and 60s. It’s part of what I love about the journey that has unfolded for me.

Intro when first posted in March 2015: This is the first part of a discussion. some background info for what is ahead. Coming soon in other posts – thoughts on being a strong (dangerous?) woman and thoughts on being an introverted leader.

I’m an introvert. I’m also shy in many situations (although not as painfully shy as I was for the first 25-30 years of my life). And the big work God has done in my life in the last 15+ years (yes – in my 40s and 50s and now my 60s) is deal with the fear that had permeated most of my life.

My childhood, my teen years, my twenties and into my thirties are full of memories of shyness. Even now I can remember how it felt. And it was painful. I usually felt like the shy little girl who never grew up and never fit in.

I was in my thirties before anyone significantly challenged my assumption that shyness and introversion were the same thing. I’m not sure whether I thought I was an introvert because I was shy. Or that I was shy because I was an introvert. It didn’t really matter because I believed they were inextricably linked. 

I was unaware that I also believed another lie embedded in that. The lie said: “You’re always going to be this shy. You’ll never be able to change. There are a lot of things not available to you because you’re introverted and shy.” Introversion and shyness felt so closely tied to “how I am made” that I could not picture being any other way.

Here’s how shy I was – I ended up sobbing in a college professor’s office because 30% of my grade was going to be class participation and I just couldn’t do it. (And my identity at that point was pretty much wrapped up in being a straight A student.) I wouldn’t suggest a restaurant or a movie when going on a date because I was afraid my date would think it (and therefore I) was stupid.   I wouldn’t speak up in class, in a group or to a boss unless specifically addressed and drawn out. Spiritually, as more and more friends were experiencing the “charismatic renewal”, I was terrified – the idea of speaking in tongues was horrifying to me as an intensely shy person. 

And the weight of that was crushing. I avoided things that nudged my heart – activities at school, chances to grow, things I wanted to do – and I blamed it on my shyness. 

More importantly, I didn’t allow myself to dream big dreams. I couldn’t picture ever having a significant ministry. I tentatively mentioned to my mom once that I might want to be a missionary and her fearful response that I couldn’t do that because it was too dangerous just shut me down. As a teenager, I didn’t have what it took to press through that.

But eventually I began to look at the pieces I hadn’t looked at before. The relationship between shyness and fear. The ways that shyness and introversion are NOT connected. I’d always known I was fearful – but I hadn’t fully factored it into the mix. And I’d never seriously dealt with the reality that I could do something about the fear.  

Scripture tells us to “Fear not”. Why would we be given a command unless it was possible to follow it? Is it really possible that when you strip away theological analysis, it’s as simple as ‘not fearing’? Did that mean being a fearful person could be changed? What would it look like to confront fear and move past it? Where would the courage come from? Does a shy person have to go through a different process than a non-shy person? 

It didn’t happen overnight, and in fact it happened most significantly during the stage of my life where I had the most reason to be “legitimately” fearful. I had amazing counselors who firmly and gently held out hope to me. My fear began to break apart. I discovered I had a “voice” that I desperately wanted to use – and which deserved to be heard. I took baby steps of courage and lived through them, discovering that they brought freedom instead of death.

I began to entertain the possibility that I mattered, a sense that had been missing while I was imprisoned in shyness and fear.

I’m still an introvert – although on Myers Briggs I test closer to the center of the continuum than I used to. Once my shyness began to break apart, it did change how I answered the questions on the assessment. I’m still shy in some settings – and while I want to work on that where it is fear-based, I’m also learning to be content that I’m not the exuberant, bubbly, dive right in type of person. Not all quietness and reservation is unhealthy or fear-based shyness.

I tend to initially be an observer, especially in groups that I am newly a part of. I take my time. I don’t wrest control away from anyone else. It helps when I have an expected role – both in my own mind and in the perception of the people I’m with. That opens doors for me to be fully engaged.

I can operate outside of these parameters when I need to. And I’m still growing. But the sorting out I did related to shyness, fear and introversion laid the foundation for much of what has unfolded in this season of my life.

To be continued …

[New P.S. If you are an introvert, have introverted kids or just want to understand what introverts bring to the table and how best to support them I highly recommend Susan Cain’s book “Quiet”.]