A Shy Guy’s Guide to Big Groups

I laughed. Then sighed. Here was one of my inner man’s favorite shirts.

Do you dislike big group gatherings? Do they glare at you from the calendar? Would you rather read a book or serve on jury duty or sprain an ankle than — as the little mermaid sang — be where the people are?

It’s not their fault; you’re just not good at tons of people. You can take them one at a time, but you’re not Samson. You wish you could freely buzz about a room, entertaining people you hardly know with half-conversations, but experience has hinted, not so subtly, that you’re no sparkling conversationalist. You can come off as, well, a little dull and listless. If you didn’t know this about yourself, you might enjoy meeting new people more. Probably not.

Without fail, one of the worst parts of every small-group party or church picnic is that you are in every conversation you enter. Your face aches from your own weird grin. Your humor — not the stuff of legends. Is it time to leave yet?

But you have it on good authority — it is not good for man to be alone. Experience has hinted at this too. So here you are, late. Better late than never (you keep reminding yourself), but also better late than on time. Standing amid the crowd, you envy the turtle its shell, the bird its wings, the prisoner his solitude. After the third time pretending to use the bathroom, you realize that the leopard can sooner change his spots than you change whatever this is.

Generous with Your Energy

Dear brother or sister, I feel your plight. But instead of taking personality tests and being trapped in the results, making peace with the discomfort and awkwardness, what if we focused outside of ourselves on others? What if we took the counsel of a voice instructor and aimed at being generous with our energy? You don’t have to be a comedian or an amazing storyteller or the life of the party; just ask yourself, “Am I present, engaged, and giving myself to others? Am I being me?”

Energy — how am I stewarding my energy?

Many times, not well. How often have you or I given our best, most spirited self at work or with a friend or doing what we love, only to come home or arrive at church flat and flavorless? How many times have you and I preferred autopilot to conserve ourselves for other times and different people? I ask again, how are you stewarding your energy, your liveliness?

The temptations here are different for the introvert and the extrovert. Introverts pay a heavy energy tax when in groups. They spend their smaller budget sooner. An hour or two into the gathering, their eyes involuntarily dart to the door.

With extroverts, it is not so. They enter and, like monsters in comic books, seem to absorb energy from others — from you. With each boisterous joke, they grow stronger, become taller, can stay longer. However low their day, they cannot even take off their coats without surpassing the dynamism of their less animated brethren. You. The more these external processors say, the more they have to say. They need to focus more on the big pedal to the left than the skinnier pedal to the right. But those who need more acceleration can imitate the energy of these lively ones.

Practical Helps

Lasting change comes from cultivating a willing, generous spirit of love to share what you have with others. So, how can you learn to steward your limited energy as you act out such love? Should you drink coffee beforehand? Maybe.

Some other practical helps.

Pray. Ask the Lord, both before and during, to make the time about him and about others. Pray for good conversations. Pray for the right people to speak to. Pray for you to decrease and for him to increase. Pray he animates you with love for others that communicates interest in them. Pray that the joy of the Lord would be your lively strength.

Speak louder than normal. This is a cheat code to bring more energy. What we call personality is deeply intertwined with how we use our voices. Use them often, freely, loudly, energetically, and you will appear more extroverted. Speak softly, sparingly, delicately, and you will be perceived as an introvert. Labels aside, one way to bring a hospitable, others-focused energy is to speak more loudly than you normally do. Don’t yell, but it is often the case that introverts misjudge how loud “too loud” is and how soft “too soft” is. Their normal speaking voice is a few notches too low, and their lack of projection can be misinterpreted as disinterest.

Think (long) before you speak. Some of you have little to say because you’ve made no time to think about what you want to say. You sit at the furthest table, linger at the fringes, burrow in the final pew because you know you have nothing to say and don’t want this made public. So come in with something to say. You’ve been asked the same questions a hundred times. How was your week? How is your family? What’s new? How can people pray for you? It’s not cheating to think ahead about how to answer. And more than that, come with thoughtful, interesting questions for others.

Look for others off to the side. Look for people who look like you when you were not bent on blessing others. Look out for the shy, the uncomfortable, the lost, and the friendless, and extend them welcome. Instead of being on the other end of the room, consumed with how awkward you feel and waiting to be approached, approach.

Cheerful Givers

In God’s words, “Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver” (2 Corinthians 9:7). God is the cheerful Giver, and it pleases him for us to give happily. Serve happily — these words should echo in your mind as you walk into every room.

Give what you have in the name of love; give more than what you have — act with the strength that he supplies. Most of us won’t be called to show Jesus-like love by physically laying down our lives for others. But we can spend ourselves, pour out, and lean in, get outside ourselves to care about other souls, other troubles, other lives. He can take your few fish, your felt limitations offered up for his service, and multiply them to bless a large group of people.

And is this really a sacrifice? It can certainly feel like it. You may need some time to recover. But it is a price that makes the giver richer in the end. God’s economy breaks mathematics, defies tidy spreadsheets. Its law is this: Give to gain. In dependence on him and love for his people, spend, invest, pour out, and it will return to you with interest. Under God, “One gives freely, yet grows all the richer; another withholds what he should give, and only suffers want. Whoever brings blessing will be enriched, and one who waters will himself be watered” (Proverbs 11:24–25). Memorize, trust, and act.

Have you read The Giving Tree? In it, a boy keeps taking from the tree at different stages of life: first the apples, then the branches, then the trunk. Eventually, nothing is left but the stump, which he, in old age, returns to sit upon. The Christian tree is different; it “yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither. In all that he does, he prospers” (Psalm 1:3).

Yes, he yields his fruit, branches, self — and they grow back. Down and down he goes — yet in the end (even at the world’s final end), he stands taller than if he never gave to begin with. He is a magical tree, birthed from imperishable seed. God gives him life; he spends it for Christ and gains eternal life.

So, how will you decide in your heart? You do not need to become someone else; we would have you be yourself. Your inner man can yet wear a different shirt: “Sorry I am a little early; I am excited to be here, and eager to bless.”