Confession: I am quite happy in the company of no one other than my heavenly Father for days at a time. I can literally spend hours inspecting the structure of a spider’s web, angling my camera to capture just the right shot of a dew-covered beetle, or contemplating the Scriptures while watching birds forage.
Before Christ, I clung to the notion that people were too people-y for me to deal with, particularly since they kept having birthdays and parties and such. The burden of being social sorely taxed the selfishness of Old Me.
Then there was the issue of my mental self-image, which began in the latter part of the 1900s (as my offspring are so fond of reminding me) and persisted for an indecent stretch of years into the new century. If you can imagine a creature a bit like a female version of Pigpen from Peanuts gifted with a less wholesome adaptation of King Midas’s curse where her very presence caused the immediate vicinity to putrefy, you have a sanitized picture of what Young Me saw in the mirror.
The sense of myself as a thing worthy of contempt coupled with something very like a phobia of “normal” people did not lend itself to the development of healthy relationships. But since nature abhors a vacuum, as the common rendering of Aristotle’s postulation goes, Old Me found herself enmeshed in unhealthy relationships, one after another, for no small amount of years.
Thus, Old Me learned to find comfort in solitude. That is, until God stepped into the picture.
Crazy how the Creator of all things visible and invisible can take a person who is perfectly uncomfortable brooding on her own beastliness and turn her inside out. Good thing, too, because it got crowded in my head, what with the piling up of decomposing dreams and the choking dust cloud of self-focus.
So it is that I find myself now – decades after this rather harrowing but necessary rearrangement of my entire being – learning how to people with the best of them. This, I assure you, is quite despite my best efforts to convince the All-Knowing One how little I know about peopling.
Alas, His power is made perfect in my weakness, as He reminded me first through childbearing, then homeschooling, then as a teacher, and on and on to whatever is next. I don’t need to be a good peopler; I just need Him.
This brings me to one of my latest lessons.
Throughout the Book, there are countless commands given that necessitate the presence and fellowship of people. Jesus tells us, “Love one another as I have loved you,” (John 13:24) – a thing I cannot do if I only contemplate the Word in the company of beetles and dew.
In Matthew 6:14-15, Colossians 3:12-14, and Ephesians 4:32, to name a tiny percentage, I am reminded that the forgiveness I’ve received from God in Christ is for extending to others, not for hoarding. What’s more, I cannot forgive if I have not been hurt by others, and I cannot be hurt by others if I avoid them.
Thus, my Lord recently gave me the words to articulate a lesson He’s taught me in practice over the last decade or so: if His Word commands us to gather with others (and I believe it does, both subtly and overtly), I am responsible for obeying this command and cannot wait on others to do so.
And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.
Hebrews 10:24-25
Much to Old Me’s woe, this is true even if I am the proverbial new kid on the block. What I mean is, if I am commanded to people in order to practice the one-anothers and grow in grace and obedience, I can’t afford to sit back and wait until someone takes notice of me and invites me in. I need to pursue the companionship of others myself.
For a natural introvert, that can be a daunting ask. Yet it is also a profound act of trust in God to step out in obedience, denying my natural inclination to remain alone, and follow Him.
As my pastor often says, “If you can’t say amen, say ouch.“
However, for my fellow introverts out there in the world, take heart! Obeying God never brings insecurity or gloom but only exposes our internal ick to the fresh air of His Spirit and the cleansing Light of His Presence. The first steps may be scary, but take them anyway.
By choosing to seek out community for the sake of trust in the One who laid down His life for me, I’ve been blessed beyond words – through people. I’ve learned to people better from people who are good at peopling, and I’ve learned the joys of exercising love and forgiveness in the process.
So get out there. Invite folks over for dinner or coffee, and keep doing it until something sticks. I can’t promise it will be easy, but I can promise if you do it for the Lord, it will be worth it.
Running the Race 