“Can I have more blackberries?” the woman asked. I glanced down at the huge bowl of fruit salad, composed primarily of honeydew, cantaloupe, and watermelon. Some strawberries and kiwi chunks were included. Just a scattering of small fruits, blueberries and blackberries, dotted the colorful pile here and there. I looked back at the line of sleepy people who waited for their breakfast. What a ridiculous request, I thought. Without chopsticks, I couldn’t select exact items from the combination. I was equipped with a large plastic scoop.
“You know, it’s a fruit salad!” I exclaimed brightly. “Let me see what I can do, but the mix is part of the fun.” I scraped out a berry along with some kiwi to top the pile of assorted fruit already on her plate, saying “Enjoy!” She didn’t say thank you.
As my volunteer shift ticked along, I thought about fruit salad as a metaphor for one of my favorite Scripture verses. I Corinthians 12:12 (MSG) says “Your body has many parts—limbs, organs, cells—but no matter how many parts you can name, you’re still one body.” I inwardly complained, “Yeah, and the fruit salad has many parts – melon and kiwi and berries – and it’s still one salad,” each time a client made a special request for a small, impossible-to-isolate item buried at the bottom of the bowl.
Now, anybody looking at me from the outside would have said my behavior was exemplary. I spoke cheerfully to each and every client. I made eye contact and smiled even when they were critical. No task was beneath me: I cleaned and scrubbed the kitchen and was among the last to leave. I packed leftovers in little plastic bags when the usual takeaway boxes ran out. But the entire time I was volunteering, my mind kept toggling between Matthew 23:27 (woe to hypocrites!) and 1 Corinthians 12 (do your part). I felt like I was missing something important. I reconciled this tension by remembering Colossians 3:23 (NIV), “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters.” My task was to do my best, work from my heart, and trust God for everything else.
Here are my takeaways from this experience:
- Service is joyful even when I’m the barely adequate fruit lady.
- Wounded people don’t intend to say mean things or be critical of volunteers. They are crying out for connection.
- Separate the salad ingredients next time!
