Through these half-opened blinds, I see the world. I see the red brick of my neighbors house, his fake white duck, and a black cat skampering under parked cars. Except for the slight chill in the air and a few lingering clouds, it's a decent Monday in March. The birds, freshly-returned from the south, harmonize with the buzz of a distant chainsaw which never fails to run when I'm trying to read or write. Oh well.

I'm glad the birds made it back safe. You never know what's going to happen when you go south. I wonder if they're met with the same southern hospitality other visitors meet when they arrive. Does anyone have them over for a home-cooked meal of deep-fried worms? Do they pick up a little twang in their chirp? Maybe there's a Southern Baptist mega-nest they all flock to on Sunday mornings. Who knows. I'm just glad they came back.

Unfortunately, March also brings back the madness of the college basketball championship. All the sudden everyone seems to know everything about every college basketball team in the country. So much so that they proceed to pick who will win every single game. And whether you want to or not, you will see every game. It's a shame to walk into a sports bar during the always-intense NHL playoff race and witness nothing but college hoops. Surely it wouldn't hurt to put Rangers vs. Penguins on one of the small screens. But no. Those are the times I seriously think about packing my bags and catching the next flight to Canada. Thankfully the end of March is right around the corner which means no more brackets, no more Dick Vitale, and no more wasted big-screens.

While I'm being kind of random, you might like to know I live to the soothing sounds of a Longarm quilt machine. Down four stairs from my room is my mom's quilt studio. Every night she's down there tirelessly turning the t-shirts of strangers into beautiful quilts, a money-making metamorphisis where old baseball jerseys become a stitched masterpiece. So for most of the day, the humming, stitching, and beeping of the quilt machine are the sounds of our house. The machine has almost become another person in our house, one who pays the rent a lot better than I do. It's program, called the Intelliquilter, makes me wonder if it really does have a mind of it's own. What if it came to to life one day like one of the Transformer machines? That would be sweet. Probably not as fun as the Transforming cars, but your bed, like mine, would never lack a finely stitched quilt.

The Christian life is humanly impossible. Impossible? Yes. Impossible. If you don't think so, there's a good chance you have another religion. Maybe some form of moral deism, but not the Christianity of the Bible. That kind of Christianity is utterly impossible. No matter how strong or serious your efforts may be, you will fall short every time.

You may not think it's very helpful to think that way, but it is. The only way you will be able to kill the flesh and live by the Spirit is if you realize you can't. No amount of self-denial, will-power, or well-intentioned promises can change that. We are helpless against the flesh, the world, and an enemy that knows us better than we know ourselves.

The problem is we don't believe we're that helpless. We don't believe the Christian life is really that impossible. And the less we believe that, the less we need Jesus. But the more impossible we find the Christian life, the more we will look outside of ourselves to a Savior who alone can change our stubborn hearts to daily depend and delight in our heavenly Father. That's the impossible task. But when we learn to despair of ourselves and run to Jesus, the possibilities of grace are endless. So lets go to him and trust that what is impossible with men is possible with GOd.

Nobody likes baggage. It's heavy, inconvenient and with most airlines now, quite costly. It seems traveling light is the name of the game. But for a lot of Christians today, the name is the game.

According to Newsweek's latest Belief Watch, a growing number of Christians want a name change. Their preference? Followers of Jesus. Their reason? The term Christian carries too much offense among other religions and too much baggage from America's ever-divisive culture wars. With a new name these Christians believe they can transcend the petty labels and history of American Christianity and once again be relevant to our culture.

I agree a lot with that argument, but what worries me is the idea that being offense and baggage-free is the road to cultural relevance. What it really sounds like is this: "Hey, we're not like those crazy Christians you've heard about and can't stand. We don't have all their problems and we can be cool. We even have a new name. Just give us a chance."

It's true that a lot of Christians have turned people off. But is a baggage-free name really going to find the on switch?

As long as our hearts remained unchanged, I doubt it. What we need is not less baggage, but more. More of the cross followers of Jesus are called to bear. Until we are more humbled, surprised, and awed at that cross, nobody is going to be impressed no matter what we call ourselves.

Call me greedy, but I signed this site up for Google Adsense- a program that rewards me when visitors click on the sidebar ads that are supposedly relevant to my blog. Having the word church in my site title, I of course anticipated ads for Christian singles and Christian weight-loss programs. No surprise there. But what of ads relevant to the word introvert? It was only a matter of time before those showed up. And last night, it happened.

I had just got in from a typical Friday night out with my fellow introverted friend- a drink or two and a deep, yet humorous discussion about our lives. I logged onto this site and there it was: "Introvert=Loser. Being yourself is not the solution, it's the problem. Learn to change." Suddenly, those Christian singles ads didn't sound so bad. So I had two options: Get mad, or use it as an opportunity for a constructive post. Restraining my introverted rage, I chose the later.

The bold message of that ad is the message introverts hear everyday: There is something wrong with us and we need to change. Unfortunately, most introverts take that myth for a fact and set about trying to cure what they believe to be introvert's disease. The prescription? A healthy dose of parties, big groups, and new people. We believe if anything will heal us, this will. And so with all the courage we can muster, we attempt to socialize in the ways of all normal and healthy people. Anything but a loser.

The problems come when at social events, we find ourselves lacking the knack for mingling, small-talk, and group conversations. Our difficulty leads most people to conclude that either we just don't like them or we're brain dead. And that only leads us to feel even weirder than we already do. So much for that, we tell ourselves, and start thinking that people like us belong in monasteries and mental asylums.

Here's the good news: there's nothing wrong with introverts and we can't change no matter how many times we repeat Obama's mantra "Yes We Can!" While a lot of us can wear the extrovert's mask pretty well, we have a natural preference for deep thought, deep conversations, and deep relationships that don't belong in monasteries, but in the middle of human life. If that makes me a loser, then a loser I'll be.

Do introverts fit in at church? Richard Beck seeks to answer that question in this great article . And it turns out, there is another church for introverts over at Introverted Church where there are some great resources for introverts in the church.

Just a quick thought here.

There are a lot of well-meaning folks who see Facebook, Myspace, Twitter, personal blogs, and any other form of internet networking as a threat to real relationships and communication. And by the term real, what they usually mean is the bodily and the face-to-face. Surely, they argue, you can't have any sort of meaningful relationships with people you're not physically interacting with through means of body language, voice tones, or facial expressions. It's just not possible.

No? Well, to the best of my knowledge, I have never physically interacted with God in those ways. I've never actually seen him smile, raise his eyebrows, or let off a heavy sigh. Does that mean I don't have a meaningful, intimate relationship with him? While someday we will physically interact with the incarnate God, that is not the case for now. I doubt anyone would say that the Lord's bodily absence prevents us from having intimate communion with him.

So how do we experience intimacy and communion with God? Through his Word. Although he sometimes shows up in extra-biblical ways, the primary way he reveals himself to us in the 21st century is through divinely inspired written words. All of our understanding of who God is and how he relates to us are found in those words. In their Spirit-breathed power, we are able to have an intimate and meaningful relationship with God.

If God is able to meaningfully communicate himself through written words, it seems that the absence of physical interaction does not impeed real relationships. That's good news for introverts who are suckers for online communities. Most introverts love words, both reading and writing them. We express ourselves much better through writing than in speaking and would much rather read an email or text than have to answer the phone. It's not that we're mean, we just prefer written communication. And for the time being, it seems God does too.

So it's my opinion that the internet networking phenomenon is a Godsend for introverts who are finally finding their voice in social networks based heavily on written communication. Sure. There are dangers if one never ventures outside of those networks. But far more dangerous is the silence of creative and insightful introverts in a world dominated by extroverts. They need to be heard. Even if only in a Twitter update.

All that to say I won't be deleting my Facebook account anytime soon.

It's the all-too-familiar Sunday morning scene. Handshakes, pats on the back, small talk, and the ever-dreaded turn-and-greet-your-neighbor-time in the service. It's time for church- a time to shed the introvert inside and find someway to be a social being.

Let's face it. By and large, the contemporary church is made by the extrovert, for the extrovert. Don't believe me? Well what introvert would ever come up with the idea for a "Fellowship Hall?" It seems all you hear about is the importance of relationships and community. Somehow these have become the new gauges of spiritual vitality. But for many introverts, the relationships and community that are supposed to edify us usually just end up draining us.

So I've created this blog as a resource for introverts trying to survive in the extroverted church. It's mostly an experiment so bear with me. But I thought I'd start some discussion with a question:

What do you think a church made by introverts, for introverts, would look like?