It is both the blessing and curse of the introvert to mask her feelings to others.  My whole world may have imploded, but my demeanor would never betray this. I'm so good it's scary sometimes. I wish I could be better at emoting, but the retreat of my inner world is far more alluring. It's safe and protected. My pride remains intact. My vulnerability is hidden. I can't be judged or rejected.

In this effort to so carefully craft my disclosure, there results a weariness I did not intend. If we are to share in each other's burdens (Galatians 6:2), it's best to make known that there are burdens I carry (tightly, and close to my heart). It's an exercise of faith that works against every fiber of my being. But it points to the One who ultimately bears our burden, and I can't hold back the emotion which comes from that.

I sometimes have this habit of drifting into my own inner thoughts, completely ignoring any human around me. In these moments I often think I've adequately heard or answered someone, only to find that the dialogue has only taken place in my head. Drifting may seem rather innocuous, but its effects are surprisingly destructive at times. I usually drift without knowing - oh the plight of the introvert! This is usually met with the ire of the other person, which snaps me back to attention.

In matters of faith, drifting can happen with great subtlety until the appeal of our Savior gradually loses its luster. We become dull to the reality that we are a saved people - people of hope already delivered from that which condemns us. So let us pay more attention lest we drift away the message of salvation that we so joyfully proclaim this season.

Today I listened to Susan Cain, author of "Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking" speak on challenging the extrovert ideal. I am among the choir of introverts that Cain preaches to. It drains me to be around people. In fact, I spent the whole day yesterday by myself, and I can't tell you how much pleasure it gave me. I know being introverted has its perks even in a culture that champions extroverts. It's taken me well into my adult years to really embrace the introvert in me, yet manage to still engage people at a high level.

The one piece missing to me in Cain's advocacy of the introvert is an underlying reason for which she encourages introverts to open up their metaphorical suitcase to the world because "the world needs [us] and the things that [we] carry." While there is no inherent flaw in this plea, the motivation  is lacking. How can one champion the introvert, yet also ask her to act contrary to it? The only motivation that summons me out of the depths of my introversion is that my life is not my own, and I am compelled to live it outside of myself. I see this beautifully articulated by the Apostle Paul in 2 Corinthians 5:14 -"For the love of Christ controls us, because we have concluded this: that one has died for all, therefore all have died; and he died for all, that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for him who for their sake died and was raised."

That verse flattens the introverted default to turn inwardly within myself. Need to see inside my suitcase? My blog is but a peek :)

It's easy for me to retreat to my inner world of thoughts and much more difficult to be outwardly expressive. But even the processing that takes place so intricately in my head needs an outlet. I don't think I can fully assess my head and heart until I begin to see it reflected back at me - even it its most raw state. Though it is difficult to articulate matters of the heart, having my emotions surface unpredictably is even more frightening. So bear with me, dear reader, as I try to enliven this often spartan blog.