I’m not what you’d call a natural volunteer. I’m just not social enough. I’m too quiet. Given the choice between feeding the hungry and clothing the needy by dropping off canned goods and clothes at a charity or serving meals and passing out socks at a soup kitchen, I’d choose the drop-off.
However, challenged by Christ’s teachings, I started volunteering at St. James Shelter to try to do some good. But as the song says, something happened along the way. The people I met—from Judy and Celida to my Scrabble partner Ben and those in my book group—have lodged in my heart. I didn’t intend this to happen. It’s no fun wondering if someone you love is being beaten after returning to her abusive husband.
Or if the foster parents of the eighteen-year-old who loves books will let him come home now that the state has stopped paying them. Or if the man you talked into entering his eighth recovery program will make it this time.
I love these people. I’m still not sure I wanted that to happen. But I’m pretty sure God did.
Lord, give me the strength to bear the burden of love.
