Inwardly renewed

If you are on Facebook, you have probably noticed the flood of Myers-Briggs test results being posted and discussed of late. While, as my brother pointed out, there is probably some amount of confirmation bias at play, I am consistently amused to find how accurate the descriptions can be (I'm an ISFJ, for anyone wondering).

The most interesting aspect of these tests is, for me, to see how the results change (or stay the same) over time. Through junior high and high school, I was a strongly expressed extravert, thriving on attention and the energy found in large groups of people. Over the past four years, I've made a solid shift in the opposite direction, now registering as a fairly solid introvert. Where before I would have sought out big events and placed myself squarely in the center of the action, I now gravitate toward the side of the room and really prefer to spend my time conversing with one or two loved ones or simply watching the goings-on.

This has happened for a number of reasons: God's healing of my depression means I'm no longer afraid to be alone or silent, the increasing manifestations of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome make it easier for me to maintain a slow and steady pace in life, perhaps I've simply matured out of some of my need for attention...

Where I used to find my energy in the affirmation of the masses, in laughter and music and action, I find that these things now sap my energy and leave me exhausted. I find strength in quietness, joy in listening and observing, rest in the confidence that I am loved--first by God, and second by a great number of people--without needing to earn it. Possibly my favorite passage in all of Scripture is in 2 Corinthians 4, where Paul writes, "Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."

Being sick is frustrating. The past six months have left my body broken and weak. But if Paul can say of his troubles, which are beyond comparison with mine, that they are light and momentary in view of the eternal glory toward which we strive, then I stand with him in rejoicing as my spirit is renewed. It is a truth that I have only been able to learn through struggle, and it is indeed both glorious and true.