For more than a year my happy zone was NEFP on a Saturday morning. 😎 It was a place of great joy to me, a space to bring my whole self in the service of others. I threw myself into the creative whirlwind of feeding hundreds of families twice a week during a pandemic, hauling 5 tons of food with 3-4 other people, out of the church basement, and uphill to the parking lot for distribution.

I was fiery and loud, relentless and joyous and irrepressible. Coming out of a season of bitter grief after being laid off by a company I helped start, I refused to be corralled or silenced or stopped. Smart colleagues fed my desire to reclaim my strength and allowed me to sweat through my fury.

I’d re-organize the walk-in freezer, moving 40 pound boxes of frozen meat that were stacked over my head. I’d carry crates up the hill rather than put them on a rolling cart because it took more energy. Each time I was given an easy task, I’d assign it to someone else and find something harder to do.

The bigger the challenge, the happier I was and if the conditions were hard, even better. Raining? Good! Banged my shin on the pallet jack? Don’t care!

I reclaimed my equilibrium the same way I did as a kid. First, through a, usually bruising, physical challenge and then with a creative adventure.

My NEFP adventure was to start a monthly bread drive with a friend in the church parking lot. We made silly signs and invited other friends to join us in receiving, counting and transporting the bread. The congregation responded as they often do, with great generosity, support and love.

If we are wired for service, which I think we are, then it makes sense to me that we can bring who we are at that moment as our gift of love. I am forever grateful to NEFP for embracing me with purpose and laughter and love. NEFP: Together.