Some people are surprised to find out that I’m an introvert. And granted, I’m a little surprised at how much I’ve changed too.

I used to be much more outwardly visible as an introvert – didn’t speak up much, was shy around strangers, vanished at parties after a while.

Lately, I’m much more likely to speak up and meet new people (though inwardly a lot of the time I’m still cringing about how much I don’t like doing these kinds of things). But honestly, I am getting better at it. I’m not quite the awkward turtleduck in conversation that I used to be – I even, dare I say it, enjoy it sometimes?

I think part of this growth is due in part to the fact that I’m finally starting to realize the difference between being an introvert and being an isolationist. (Now let’s see if I can articulate it).

I’m drained by social interaction. Even when I enjoy it, I know I’ll need some time afterwards to recover – a quiet space to read, sleep, or just be alone for a bit. I value being in contact with others, especially now that I am overseas, but sometimes, even writing out communication can be as tiring as having an actual conversation. Yet I’m always glad once I have reached out or checked in – I really want to know how my friends and family are doing; I want them to know they are valued and loved; I want them to know that I’m still here for them, even if there is a delay in getting back to them.

I’ve learned how to balance interaction better though – reserving space at the end of a day to be alone after a busy day of meeting with people; initiating dinners or activities in advance so that I can mentally prepare (I’m working on spontaneously doing things with others – that can still be hard); and generally trying to be more flexible with my plans – i.e., if the checklist I prepared at the beginning of the day isn’t complete by the end of the day, it’s not the end of the world: I completed what I needed to complete.

This is a vast improvement over how I responded last spring semester. Over the last year, particularly as life started to (verrrrrry slowly in Malaysia’s case) crank back to a normal pace, I found myself obstinately clinging to my “alone time” – I didn’t want to go back to normal in some ways. I really liked being at home; I liked having fewer obligations that I had to keep; I even liked being away from people for a very extended period of time. And as more and more activities got added to my plate, I felt myself getting cranky that people were, in my opinion, all too quickly forgetting the value of a slower paced life.

But then Proverbs 18:1 came along again as it so often does when I’m trying to isolate instead of just taking my usual introvert break: “Whoever isolates himself seeks his own desire; he breaks out against all sound judgment.”

I have all too often used introversion as an excuse to get out of things I didn’t want to do. “I’m too tired,” “I need to recharge,” “It’s not really my thing” – all of which could be true, but were often my natural go to because I didn’t want to do something rather than that I was fully burnt out and had used up all of my “extroversion” for the day.

The Lord is reteaching me that He meant all of us to live in community. He pointed me back to the beginning of the world and of Scripture where He says, “It is not good for man to be alone.” Christians tend to take this and run with the idea that everyone should get married – I have a whole ‘nother post I’m planning to deal with that mess. I fully believe – and am living proof – that you can have a meaningful, community-filled life as a single person. But I think as a single, particularly as I get older, I have to be more intentional about being in community and seeking out people, especially because I’m introverted.

But Scripture is clear: we cannot be healthy, whole people without community. It is impossible to live the Christian life without each other. How else could we obey the commands to “Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor” (Romans 12:10), or “warn those who are idle and disruptive, encourage the disheartened, help the weak, be patient with everyone” (1 Thessalonians 5:14), or “Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you” (Colossians 3:13)? These are just a few of the many Scriptures emphasizing love and community with one another.

And how will people “know that you are my disciples” unless we “have love for one another”? (John 13:35). Our witness is harmed when we isolate because isolation is prevalent in our world – how can we offer the hope that Jesus offers if our life looks the same as the world around us?

It means we have to be intentional; we have to be involved; we have to love.

Tangentially related, I’ve also had my perspective changed by living overseas. I knew what it meant to say goodbye before I ever got out here, but never to the extent and frequency that I say goodbye out here. People are constantly leaving: whether it’s students I’ve barely gotten to know (gosh darn it, my really friendly, engaging 9th grader who could get all of their introverted classmates to participate is leaving in December!), or coworkers who won’t be renewing their contracts come November, or people I didn’t realize I was saying a final goodbye to but who were never able to find a way back to Malaysia. It is a constant, painful, but good reminder that the time I have is limited, so I need to make sure I’m loving people and investing in them while I can.

Does this mean I never rest? Thank heavens no, God also makes provision for rest for His people – even Jesus went off by Himself sometimes. Even last week, I tapped out of Bible study because it really had been an exhausting week and I couldn’t handle any more social interaction. I’m also still probably less outgoing than a lot of my fellow coworkers and that’s okay – ’cause comparison never did anyone any good anyway.

But I’m learning to tell the difference between when withdrawing is necessary and when it’s selfish. I can’t say I get it right every time either, but Lord willing, more and more of my dross is being consumed and more of His image in me is being refined. And I’m learning that the church He is building is more beautiful, more diverse, and more wonderful than anything I ever imagined.