“I really don’t want to do this,” I whispered to my husband, Brad, as he turned the minivan into the packed parking lot at the Center for People in Need.
I was leery of another family service opportunity. A few months prior we’d quit delivering Meals on Wheels because our two boys had complained so bitterly about boredom, car sickness and the pungent scent of broccoli that had wafted from the food trays stacked in the back of the mini-van. Exasperated and tired of arguing with them every few weeks during the two hours it took to complete our assigned route, I finally sent our resignation notice to Rhoda, the program coordinator.
Although Rhoda graciously let me off the hook, acknowledging that not every serving opportunity was a good fit for every family, quitting Meals on Wheels had left me feeling like a bad parent and a bad Christian. I wondered, as the four of us scuttled through the double doors of the food distribution center, if this volunteer initiative would end in failure as well.