I’ve heard the question, “Is church for extroverts?” asked a few times, and I have to say a hearty YES! I often feel misunderstood as an introvert. This article was born from many frustrating conversations with my more extroverted husband concerning chatting after church and at Christian conferences.

 I don’t always fit the stereotype of quiet, shy, stuck up, or awkward. I am a former librarian, but I don’t live alone, surrounded by a hoard of cats. Sometimes, like many introverts, I can be loud and social, the life of the party and up for a good time. The key difference between introverts and extroverts is how they recharge.

When you finish a long day of work, or come home after an epic party, what do you feel like doing? If you need time alone, you’re probably an introvert. If you need more ‘people time’ to give you a pick-me-up, then you most likely fall into the extrovert camp. Some people swing between the two.

So, what’s it like for an introvert at church?

Winter holidays means games and puzzles, learning new skills, chasing the sunlight around the house, grumpy chickens, the garden reaching new depths of green, reading endless books, spending mornings crafting, picking flowers, and drinking mugs of tea to survive the chilly days. It means a whole lot of slowing down, being in our space, all together; our favourite place to be

Eighty percent of my childhood family holidays were exactly the same. We’d pile into the 1985 Tarago and drive for an hour until the first of us shouted, “I see the trees,” shortly followed by “I see the sea.” Our Gran owned a beach shack where we’d spend a week every school holidays. Tall gums lined the only road in and out, and we’d crane our necks on the approach to be the first to spot the sign we were almost there.

Crisp, sunburned leaves. A shrivelled stem gasping for water. Grey, sandy soil that repels moisture—much like my legs in summer. Toss in a grassless lawn for dramatic effect, and you’ve got a snapshot of my gardening track record.

I once thought it was a brilliant idea to plant baby fruit trees during a 40+ degree January heatwave, straight into what could technically be described as “dirt,” but more closely resembled beach sand. Yes, I was that person. Of the three trees I planted, one heroically died and was respectfully composted. The cause of death? Possibly the soil, the sun, the lack of water—or maybe the tree just took one look at its new home and decided, “Yeah, nah.”

There comes a stage in pregnancy—the waddle stage I like to call it—where women who have been there before may just ask you: ‘how are you going?’ They give you a smile, they look you in the eye, and if it happens then you feel seen. And loved.  

They know that you are probably not feeling at your all-time best. Probably you get tired just by standing up and existing for a period of time. Probably your pelvic floor is not as functional as it could be. Probably picking up your toddler is becoming problematic. Possibly you are turning the corner towards the home stretch and starting to think that maybe birth is not so bad because at the end the baby is on the outside at last!  

Well, that’s what I’m thinking at least. 

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a millennial in the prime of their life must be in want of a new hobby. From indoor plants to preserving foods, paint-by-numbers, smoking meats, and birdwatching (ahem, that is a raven, not a crow), social media takes great joy in making fun of millennial hobbies. Yet by the time you reach the end of this article and can quote at least three scientific names for orchid species, you and I will be the ones laughing… Probably at ourselves.

This summer looked like big sister squishy snuggles, puzzles all over the floor, and building Duplo zoos. It looked like fairy floss flowers, tomatoes in bloom, and endless washing drying outside. This summer looked like afternoons in the pool, overcoming fears and growing in strength. It looked like vibrant blooms defying the sweltering heat, chooks dust-bathing to keep cool, and surprising new growth, found only if you look closely.