This Sunday dads will wake up extra early to make their wives breakfast in bed, or at least a good cup of strong coffee. Children will work diligently during their Sunday-school hour cutting out yellow-and-pink paper flowers or finger painting picture frames.

Teenagers will yield to sitting with their families during the church service, instead of in the balcony. Pastors will lead congregations in special litanies and deliver sermons with exceptional titles such as “The Ideal Woman” or “Parenting with a Purpose.”

Families will leave church hand-in-hand rushing to their cars to make it in time for their 12:15 brunch reservations. This Sunday is Mother’s Day, and for someone like me it is the most dreaded day of the year.

Many Christians this Sunday will debate staying in bed all morning, or perhaps they thought ahead and planned a weekend trip away. They may call their Sunday-school director and feign a stomach bug to get out of teaching.

Perhaps they will decide to go to church but sit on the back pew so they can duck out before the roses are handed out. Or maybe they will only make it to the parking lot before the emotions become too much, and wonder through their weeping if they made a mistake attempting to come to church this day.

Infertility is a beast. It is a repulsive, smelly leviathan looming in the shadows beyond hope’s edge. This evil monster eagerly waits in the darkness ready to sink its venomous teeth into one’s joy during the most celebratory moments of life: A child’s birthday party. Family sporting events. Christmas morning. Baby showers. And of course, this blasted creature completely rips apart Mother’s Day.

I was diagnosed with polycystic ovarian syndrome [http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/polycystic-ovary-syndrome/DS00423] in 2006. Naturally, I was devastated to discover that I would have trouble getting pregnant. But being single at the time, I simply hoped for the best and got on with my life.

It wasn’t until I became engaged in 2008 that I became more anxious about the issue. After we were married, my husband and I immediately began trying for a child. After a year of no luck, we began fertility treatments. After a year of painful and emotionally draining treatments, we called it quits with the drugs and simply “put it in God’s hands.” Now a year and a half later, we are still waiting for a miracle.

While I would like to think that I am unique in my problems (I just love a good pity party!), surprisingly 10 percent of Americans suffer from infertility. Even more shocking is that our churches rarely address this issue.

Congregations tend to sweep “bedroom matters” into pastoral counseling offices or basement support groups. Childless couples who are in their 30s and 40s find themselves isolated from Sunday school classes that focus on parenting issues. And though attempts are made to say a special prayer on Mother’s Day for those unnamed women who are “moms yet-to-be,” most infertile women who attend church this Sunday will leave feeling a huge sense of loss, grief and disappointment.

Does the church unintentionally teach couples to be ashamed of their infertility? Rather than hiding infertility issues, what if the church committed to filling the void felt by childless couples?

What if the church had a service to surround childless couples in blessing and prayer? What if the church made more of an effort to integrate infertile couples into its current family ministry model? What if the churches simply said the word “infertility” a thousand times over so it is no longer taboo?

Each Mother’s Day our church prints the names of mothers whose children and spouses have given them roses. Perhaps that’s the most painful part of Mother’s Day, not being named. Christ dedicated his entire ministry to naming and renaming hurting and broken souls. Jesus called out people’s pain. He offered a welcoming place of rest and nourishment.

We can’t deny it. Infertility is out there. We need to call it out. We need to affirm and support our childless families. We need to be the peace of Christ.

Erica Cooper is associate pastor and minister to families at First Baptist Church in Jefferson, Ga.

I actually decided to bring a pair of Bibles with me in case I got the chance to talk with him again. When I was thinking about what I could do to keep our conversation going, I wasn't very sure what the best approach would be. However, I remembered that I've heard several different church leaders and friends say that the Gospel of John was a great read for people unfamiliar with the faith.

That idea confused me because it would seem that all the metaphors and analogies in John would confuse someone who hadn't spent years listening to sermons. However, when I talked over my concerns with a friend on the phone, he assured me that there were several important ideas that were very easy to pick up from the text without needing to know every detail.

I didn't know how Peter would respond to the idea of reading the Bible, so I planned on making small talk for a while to find out what he thought and see if I could sneak in a chapter of John whenever I got the chance. However, Peter was really excited about the idea of reading the Bible, so we actually took turns reading through the chapters of John out loud. We got through 11 chapters all in one day! I was surprised out how straightforward Jesus is about believing in him for the forgiveness of sins in John; that idea is repeated emphatically in every single chapter.

Peter didn't seem to take reading the Bible lightly, because he was asking me questions about parts of the chapter that he didn't understand or words that couldn't be understood very well from the sentence's context. I had to get moving on to the next part of my day, so I stopped the reading there and asked him if he had any questions. He didn't, but he still seemed very enthusiastic about what we were doing, and we agreed to meet later. I left my extra copy of the Bible with him to keep until the next day, and I plan on letting him keep it. He said he would hide the Bible somewhere very safe.

From my earlier talks with Peter, I know that he isn't a believer, even though he comes from some sort of a Christian background, since he has been to church regularly with his family, whom I've never met. He thought that he was a Christian since he came from a Christian family, so it's obvious that no one has really gone through the gospel very clearly with him. I am cautiously optimistic that something really good will happen in his life through our time together. Pray that the seeds being planted will grow into a relationship with Jesus Christ.

Simeon Snow, a recent Houston Baptist University graduate, is serving with Go Now Missions at Segue Refugee Partners Ministry in the Dallas area.

How should we—finite human beings—determine, much less claim, the will of infinite God Almighty?

The question arose with robust regularity across the past few months. At least three politicians indicated they decided to run for president of the United States because God told them to. If this struck you as a bit baffling, and perhaps outright ironic, raise your hand. Me, too.

Why would God tell three people to run for president at the same time? We can look at this situation from at least two perspectives. First, give them the benefit of the doubt and acknowledge each candidate heard God clearly, and God wanted all of them to run for president. In this case, isn't God acting as a bully? The only political contest I ever lost was for vice president of my sophomore class in high school, and that hurt like crazy. It's hard to imagine the psychological beating a losing U.S. presidential candidate must endure. A God who tells someone to sustain the rigors of a presidential campaign only to suffer the disappointment of defeat isn't very nice. Second, consider the logical conclusion that at least a couple of the candidates misunderstood. God did not tell them to run for president. Then how could leaders who feel wise enough to be president get something so important so wrong?

Obviously, one's sense of self gets involved in life's biggest decisions. We don't need presidential candidates to illustrate that fact. Have you ever considered a major life judgment—say, whether to marry this particular person, or buy precisely that house, or take that specific job—from a purely spiritual perspective? Me, neither, even though I've sincerely tried on many occasions. Always, my own self interest competes with my discernment of divine will. Try as I might to account for my ego, my own pecadilloes and perspectives, I always acknowledge they play a part in determining the decision.

More and more, I identify with the aged rabbi who participated in an interfaith dialogue with a group that included an energetic and demonstrative young Christian pastor. The pastor dominated each discussion, confidently proclaiming God's position on every issue. After many hours of talks, the wise old rabbi turned to a friend and admitted, "I'm never as certain about anything as that young man is about everything." Through the years, I've learned to allow my suspicion to rise in direct proprotion to the certainty with which someone claims to know God's will.

Still, one of the main tasks of the Christian life is figuring out WWJD—What would Jesus do? When our faith is purest, we want to make decisions that are congruent with God's will and plan for our lives.

No process is perfect, but we can take several steps that help:

• Stand under Scripture. Baptists say we are "people of the book," and so we turn to the Bible when we make major decisions. Do specific Scripture passages speak to the choices we must make? Of course, most of our major life decisions are so specific, Bible passages don't address them. But the principles we gain from the Bible help us: Which choice will give the most glory to God? Which reflects love for God and others? Which leads us to serenity of spirit? Which enables us to serve others—to be a better parent, or spouse, or friend? Which blesses others?

• Sit in community. Jesus gave us family and the church for several good reasons, but one of the best is corporate discernment. No, we don't take every personal decision to a church business meeting. But if we live in close community with Christian family members and other Christians, we can lean on a valuable resource for evaluating the options that shape our lives.

• Kneel in humility. Absolute certitude weaves an inescable straightjacket. If we claim we are 100 percent sure God told us to do something and it doesn't work out, we embarrass ourselves and undermine God's credibility. But if we are willing to say: "I sense God's leadership. Perhaps I'm wrong, but I'm heading this way," then we remain free to walk in the light of fresh revelations.

—Marv Knox is editor of the Baptist Standard. Visit his blog at www.baptiststandard.com.

The Great Moment finally arrived for Ezra, my one and only grandchild, and me. His mama, Lindsay, and grandmama, Joanna, left us home alone together under the careful supervision of my dog, Topanga.

This was not the first time I stayed home with a 15-month-old child. That happened in 1968, when I babysat my brother, Martin.

We were born almost 11 years apart. When Martin was tiny, Mother and Daddy hired an older babysitter a time or two. Then I told them: "I don't see why you hire a sitter for Martin. I have to do all the work, anyway."

So, they quit. I don't recall them paying me to keep Martin, but since I got free room and board, it probably was an even trade. Besides, we always played ball and generally had a grand time when our parents left us to ourselves.

Years later, I picked up valuable experience when Lindsay and her sister, Molly, came along. Being their daddy is the best, most fun, most rewarding thing I've ever done. So, I always enjoyed my time with our girls when Jo was gone.

And I only really messed up once. Jo always was great at telling the girls exactly what was about to happen. I never figured they paid that much attention, so I ignored that lesson.

But one night, while Jo attended a meeting up at the church, I stayed home with Lindsay and Molly. Suddenly, I remembered the garbage collectors were coming the next morning. We lived in a split-level home, and the girls were upstairs, and the trash barrel was downstairs in the garage. So, I decided to drag it out to the curb without mentioning I'd be outside for, oh, two minutes. By the time I got back, Lindsay realized I wasn't in the house, and she had whipped herself and her little sister into a tear-gushing, snot-blowing panic. At least I learned a lesson about kid communication.

I'm happy to say nothing like that happened when Ezra and I stayed home together. We had a blast playing with blocks and explaining the names of things. I called them "finger,"?"nose," "door," "TV" and "ceiling fan." I can't pronounce Ezra's words for them, which mostly consist of the sounds of consonants and the letter U.

We also took Topanga for a long walk, with Ezra riding in the stroller and pointing at cars, trees and squirrels that caught his interest. I taught him the "boy names" for some objects, but since he's too young to repeat them, I probably won't get in trouble with his mama. Yet.

To be quite honest, I didn't think I was ready to be a grandparent 18 months ago. Grandparenting is for "old" people. But from the moment I heard him wail his welcome to the world, Ezra owned my heart. That bond grows every time we're together, as his self-awareness expands, opening territory to deepen our relationship.

Sometimes, God gives us blessings we don't even know we need.

Due to my work, I travel quite a lot. But I visit a Baptist church any time I'm away on Sunday. Many churches now use the phrase "come as you are," apparently to make visitors think the church is relevant to them. But this phrase often seems to be a church's only attempt at relevance. How can churches move beyond mouthing an empty phrase and become truly relevant?

I commend you for your habit of attending church when you are away from home on a Sunday. When you worship in other churches, Baptist or otherwise, you are exposed to many ways others practice their faith. Often, you return home feeling better about your church.

Churches attempt to convey relevance in lots of ways, one of which is encouraging members and guests to "come as you are." I suppose this does no harm, but it is based on a false assumption—that casual clothing is synonymous with relevance. It is not. A person can dress out of the Banana Republic or Lands' End catalog but speak a religious language and go through religious motions that are trite and unrelated to life. Clothing is a function of personal taste. It is a superficial or shallow matter and says little about the character of a person or the gospel itself. The same goes for contemporary—whatever that term means—worship.

People are more interested in authenticity than in relevance. They want to know that Christians and their message are real and vital, not that they keep up with the latest trends. Relevance can be fake, phony, an imitation or knock-off. Authenticity is almost impossible to fake. People do not tire of it.

Christians who are not judgmental, hypocritical, out of touch with real hurts and pain, disconnected from relationships or insensitive to others are attractive. Mean, angry, scheming and intolerant Christians are unattractive, even when they wear the hippest clothing money can buy.

Every church and its members can be authentic. The place to begin is by listening. Pay attention to the places where life bruises or gashes people in your congregation and community. Do you know people who are unemployed or underemployed? Who cannot afford health insurance? Who have lost life's love, or have lost at love? Who cannot meet the monthly payments on their house? Whose children have bought in to a different value system? Who are weary of work but cannot retire? Who spend each day with chronic pain? Who are marginalized because they are different?

Do your gospel and your church's ministries speak to them? If not, then the invitation to "come as you are" lacks the look of authenticity. People want a real God and a real gospel. Give them that, and it will not matter to them or you whether they are dressed in denim or a suit and tie.

Mike Clingenpeel, pastor

River Road Church, Baptist

Richmond, Va.

Right or Wrong? is co-sponsored by the Texas Baptist theological education office and Christian Life Commission. Send your questions about how to apply your faith to [email protected].

Hello, Texas Baptists. For the past 18 months, I have had the joy of serving as interim pastor of First Baptist Church in Waxahachie (www.fbcwax.org). I am so grateful to this wonderful church family for the way they made Kathleen and me feel so welcome each week. I completed my work there; they have a very bright future.

I express my gratitude to the Baptist Student Ministry of Texas Woman's University (www. twubsm.com) and the University of North Texas (www.untbsm.com) for their hospitality a couple of weeks ago as I visited each campus. Mika Sumpter is providing good leadership at TWU, and Stephanie Gates is doing a good job at UNT. Please pray for them. Also, the UNT group is raising funs for a new facility. They have a great location in the heart of the campus, where 17,000 students pass every day. When I was there, 400 gathered for lunch and heard the gospel. If you are interested in supporting this cause, please contact them at (940) 387-6331.

This year's Texas Woman's Missionary Union annual meeting ([email protected]) was held at First Baptist Church in Corpus Christi (www.fbc-corpuschristi.org), and more than 500 attended. I so appreciated the opportunity to preach and then lead a breakout group. Sandra Wisdom-Martin is giving great leadership, and the Baptist General Convention of Texas values our partnership with Texas WMU.

Thank you to Clint Davis, pastor of First Baptist Church in Mount Pleasant, (www.fbcmp.org) for allowing me to preach in his absence recently. First Baptist has constructed a beautiful new facility just south of Mount Pleasant, and the pastor will celebrate his 20th anniversary with the church in May. Congratulations, Clint!

Your Texas Baptist Ministers of Education Association held its annual retreat at the T Bar M Conference Center in New Braunfels in April. I appreciated the opportunity to share with them about who we are as Texas Baptists. Bruce Welch, minister of education at First Baptist Church in Sulphur Springs (www. ssfbc.org) has served as their president this past year. Well done, Bruce.

First Baptist Church in Waco ([email protected]) hosted a luncheon for Baylor University's Center for Ministry Effectiveness and Educational Leadership (http://www.baylor.edu/ministry_effectiveness/). Don Schmeltekopf is the director of the center, and I was honored to speak to such a great group.

Kathleen and I certainly enjoyed the retirement dinner honoring Ken Hall of Buckner International (www.buckner.org). Ken has provided visionary leadership for more than 18 years, and I wish the very best for him and Linda. Of course, Buckner is still in great hands under the new leadership of Albert Reyes.

More next time. Plan to join us in Corpus for our annual meeting Oct. 29-31.

David Hardage is executive director of the Baptist General Convention of Texas Executive Board.

Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams, the leader of the worldwide Anglican Communion, announced he would step down by year's end. A few days later, the Church of England rejected a Williams-backed unity plan for global Anglicanism, a church fractured by issues of gender and sexual identity. The timing of the resignation and the defeat probably are not coincidental. These events signal Anglicans' institutional failure.

But why should anyone, other than Anglicans and their Episcopal cousins, care? The Anglican fight over gay clergy usually is framed as a left and right conflict, part of the larger saga of political division. But this obscures a more significant tension in Western societies—the increasing gap between spirituality and religion, and the failure of traditional religious institutions to learn from the divide.

Until recently, the archbishop of Canterbury was chief pastor for a global church bound by a common liturgy and Anglican religious identity. Expectations for leaders were clear: Run the church with courage and vision. Bishops directed the laity, inspiring obedience, sacrifice and heroism; they ordered faith from the top.

Today's world, however, is different.

Institutions are being torn by tension between those who want to reassert tested leadership patterns—including top-down control, uniformity and bureaucracy—and those who welcome untested but promising patterns—grassroots empowerment, diversity and relational networks.

It is not a divide between conservatives and liberals. It is a divide between institution and spirit.

Top-down structures are declining. In the Anglicans' case, spiritual and institutional leadership have been severed. The emerging vision maintains spiritual leadership must be learned, earned and experienced distinct from, and often in tension with, the ascribed role of bishop.

Williams illlustrates the conflict. Early on, he was recognized as a teacher and pastor of deep spirituality who practiced what he preached. He had the character and imagination Anglicans most needed to move toward a new future.

And that is where the trouble started—and where the story turns tragic. Williams' situation was impossible. As Anglicans around the globe quarreled over homosexuality, they called his authority into question. Williams struggled to be both a spiritual leader who embraces the emerging vision and the leader of an institution committed to guarding the old order.

The archbishop may be "spiritual head" of Anglicanism, but he also acts as CEO of the Anglican corporation. He must manage policy, ensure profitability, maintain properties, open new markets and negotiate politics. It is a bureaucracy, often more a religion business than a vibrant spiritual community.

For centuries, faith was top-down: Spiritual power flowed from pope to the faithful, archbishop to Anglicans, priest to the pious, pastor to congregation. This changed as regular people confidently assert spirituality is a grassroots adventure of seeking God, a journey of insight and inspiration involving authenticity and purpose that might or might not happen in a church, synagogue or mosque. Spirituality is an expression of bottom-up faith and does not always fit into accepted patterns of theology or practice.

Fearing this change, many religious bodies increasingly fixate on order and control, leading them to reassert authority and be less responsive to the longings of those they supposedly serve. And that will push religion further into its spiral of irrelevance and decline.

Williams demonstrated how wide the breach has become between spirituality and religion. The gap between spirit and institution not only is problematic for religious organizations. The gap exists in business, where work and craft have been replaced by venture capital and profitability; in politics, where the common good and democracy are crushed by partisanship and corporate money; in education, where critical thought and the humanities are sacrificed to test scores.

The Anglican crisis is not about Rowan Williams or even religion. It is about the drive for meaningful connection and community and a better, more just and more peaceful world as institutions of church, state and economy increasingly seem unresponsive to these desires. It is about the gap between a new spirit and institutions that have lost their way. Only leaders who can bridge this gap and transform their institutions will succeed in this emerging cultural economy.

Williams will return to teaching—a good choice. Spiritual renewal is taking place among friends, in conversation, with trust and through mutual learning. A new thing is happening on the streets, in coffeehouses, in faith communities, and in movements of justice and social change. Far from demands of institutional religion, he will see a new kind of faith being born.

Diana Butler Bass is the author of eight books, most recently Christianity After Religion: The End of Church and the Birth of a New Spiritual Awakening. (USA Today/RNS)

"The pop-theological mainstream of American evangelicals has so thoroughly assimilated the ideal of American capitalism that any deviation, however modest, from it is tantamount to radical godless humanism."

Scott Galupo

Washington-based freelance writer and former staffer for House Republican Leader John Boehner (U.S. News & World Report)

"My sense is that for most, they're not rejecting God. They're rejecting organized religion as being rigid and dogmatic."

Erin Dunigan

Presbyterian "evangelist" who works with Not Church, a gathering of U.S. expatriates in Mexico, analyzing the growing number of Americans who list their religious preference as "none" (Time)

"Though we believe that 3,000 abortions a day in America are exactly 3,000 too many, we are just as concerned about the 20,000 children who die every day worldwide because of hunger, lack of clean drinking water and preventable disease. We also view human trafficking and exploitive labor practices as fundamental violations of people's God-given rights and dignity."

Chris LaTondresse

Founder and CEO of Recovering Evangelical, a nationwide movement of next-generation evangelicals, on young evangelicals' response to social issues (cnn.com)

"I should be able to express moral views on social issues—especially those that have been the underpinning of Western civilization for 2,000 years—without being slandered, accused of hate speech and told from those who preach 'tolerance' that I need to either bend my beliefs to their moral standards or be silent."

Kirk Cameron

Actor and outspoken outspoken evangelical Christian, after he was criticized for saying gay marriage and homosexuality are "destructive to so many of the foundations of civilization" (RNS)

Churches as islands

In regard to churches writing their own curriculum (April 16), that may work for some, but I look at it as a church taking a step away from the Southern Baptist Convention and the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship and a step toward becoming an independent Baptist church.

The independents have been doing this for years. I have even heard them brag: "No one tells us what to teach in Sunday School and Bible study. We write our own literature."

Our churches are becoming islands.

F.A. Taylor Jr.

Kempner

Ministry beyond pulpit

A few years ago, after much prayer, God led me to resign from a church after serving them as pastor for three and a half years and nearly 23 years total at various churches.

I never had resigned a church without having another to serve, so I was certain God would soon provide a church for me, and life would go on. That would not be the case. Then my mother soon became ill with cancer, resulting in many weekend trips to Missouri.

There is so much to tell, but I will summarize a bit: Mom went through lung cancer and surgery, and a year later, she went through pancreatic cancer and surgery. She went home to heaven on Dec. 23, 2011.

By not serving as a pastor, I had the weekends I needed to make the many trips. Those visits became more and more valuable. Some years ago, Mom accepted Christ, but just a week before her death, my sister accepted Christ. I was able to share Jesus with her on a previous and recent visit.

Not too long ago, I was able to go to Missouri and baptize not only my sister, but also my niece and her husband and their daughter. Wow!

There is ministry beyond the pulpit. I never had opportunities like this before, as I always served a long distance away from my family.

I have learned just how valuable and precious is that "ministry beyond the pulpit."

Bill Adams

Temple

What do you think? We value hearing from readers. Send letters to Editor Marv Knox by mail: P.O. Box 259019, Plano 75025-9019; or by e-mail: [email protected]. Due to space considerations, limit letters to 250 words, and only one letter per writer per quarter.

A few days ago, I had my first experience attending a traditional Hindu Bhutanese wedding.

My missionary friend Matt and I had received a phone call about it when there was only an hour left in the marriage ceremonies, but we still were able to have a great experience interacting with the family's culture.

Student missionary Simeon Snow enjoys learning about Bhutanese  culture at a wedding.

The wedding is not actually all one ceremony. There are alternating ceremonial times between pronouncements of union and times for the friends and family of the couple to give gifts and blessings to the family.

A Hindu priest officiated, and a lot of the ceremonies involve putting tikas—religiously significant marks—on the foreheads of both the husband and wife. By the time all of their family and friends had placed tikas on their foreheads, the couple look like they are flowers with a 3-inch diameter circle of beautiful red on their foreheads.

The people at the wedding were very pleased to see us. I knew several faces in the crowd from my time in the apartment complex, and Matt seemed to know almost everyone. The family fed us a full meal of rice, meat, pastries and sugar balls. While we ate, we made small talk, and Matt introduced himself to a few of the adults and children whom he did not know.

While most of the crowd spoke Nepali, we were able to have insightful conversation with some of our friends who knew English very well and were able to explain to us different parts of the wedding processions.

All the women wore beautful sakis, and the room was full of colorful ribbons and pictures. The centerpiece of the room, in front of the husband and wife, had an oil lamp with a candle, two plates covered in tika clay (with which the blessings were placed upon their foreheads) and a floral bouquet.

Several children ran around the room having fun—normal for almost all Nepali gatherings, regardless of formality. Two of them were striving for control of Matt's iPhone because they wanted to play a driving game on it.

Once the ceremonies had concluded, we drove a family back to their apartments near where we live. The two kids who had been fighting over Matt's phone were in the car of us, still negotiating their turns.

It was a wonderful time for us to catch up with several of our Hindu Bhutanese friends in a loving setting. We pray for God's blessings on the new couple and their family. And we pray their community would become connected with the love of Jesus Christ.

Simeon Snow, a recent Houston Baptist University graduate, is serving with Go Now Missions at Segue Refugee Partners Ministry in the Dallas area.

A friend who "gets" me recently emailed a link to a fascinating video. It's a lecture from the TED Talks series by Susan Cain, an attorney-turned-author of the new book Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking. Cain acknowledges the "Extrovert Ideal" dominates our culture. It casts outgoing, gregarious crowd-lovers as natural, successful leaders. But she speaks up on behalf of introverts, "one-third to one-half of the population … (who) prefer quieter, more low-key situations."

"When it comes to creativity and leadership, we need introverts," Cain claims. Her manifesto states: "There's a word for 'people who are in their heads too much'—thinkers" and my personal favorite, "It's OK to cross the street to avoid making small talk."

People who only know me casually typically think I'm an extrovert. This is a common projection upon people who have some form of public role. We speak to hundreds of people, write words read by thousands, perform before crowds. And so folks assume someone who enjoys doing that must be extroverted.

Of course, that's not the measure of extroversion or introversion. The key to realizing whether you're an introvert or an extrovert is figuring out where you draw energy. This is a bit oversimplified, but it's as easy as understanding whether you "charge your batteries" by jumping into a crowd or by getting away alone.

Both introversion and extroversion are value-neutral. Neither is inherently right or wrong. Even Cain, ever the introvert, concedes the world needs extroverts, too.

But here's a secret I've never told anybody: For most of my life, I refused to acknowledge I'm an introvert. The reason was simple; I thought introversion was sinful. That's because of how Baptists and other evangelicals typically practice evangelism. When I was growing up and in college, the blue-ribbon Christians were the back-slapping soul-winners who actually enjoyed spending the day at Six Flags or on busy downtown intersections so they could pass out tracts and stop total strangers to tell them about Jesus. This always scared the bejabbers out of me. Not because I was ashamed of Jesus or afraid someone would punch me. I just never felt comfortable striking up conversations with people I'd never met. Later, as a journalist, I covered scores of sermons in scads of evangelism conferences, where the tried-and-true tales always highlighted the speakers, who inevitably witnessed for Jesus to waiters, cab drivers and the person in the next seat on the airplane. The subtext of their message remained the same: If you're not Bible-whacking people you've never met, you're just not serving the Lord.

The other day, I met a friend for lunch. I admire this guy. He's a great pastor/preacher, and his church is serving all kinds of people and changing lives. He's the Real Deal.

Somehow, we got to talking about the Cain video and introversion, and I confessed: "I love my church. But some Sunday mornings, I try to figure out how I can walk from my car to my 'regular' pew without having to talk to anyone." My friend laughed out loud. "We ought to be in the same support group," he chortled. This guy. Fantastic pastor. Like me.

Before you get too riled, hear me: We need extroverted soul-winners. I love and admire them. We could use more of them.

The other reality is this: We also need introverts. And this: Introverts don't get a pass on evangelism. In fact, some of the best evangelists I've ever seen are quiet introverts. Cain's observations of introverts illustrates why they're effective:

• They listen. Like good counseling, some of the best soul-winning takes place when we give others space to tell their stories. In the telling, they see their need for Jesus.

• They pay attention. Everyone loves to be cared for. And folks who look intently see deep needs. This enables them to meet those needs—and heal in Jesus' name.

• They leave room in the spotlight for Jesus.

• They're creative. Christians who don't adopt traditional evangelism methods often come up with new ideas because they're willing to contemplate new opportunities.