I have a confession to make:  I am not a very good cook.  I could tell some pretty good stories about some times I’ve tried to cook and made an epic failure. There’s the salmon soup that was so bad our neighbor’s cats wouldn’t even finish it.  There’s the explosive potato and jalapeno soup.   There’s the spinach soup that erupted from the blender.  There’s the cookies without sugar and the bran muffin without the rising agent that could have doubled as hockey pucks.

I used to think that I could go through my life and depend on others to cook for me, since somehow I missed out on the practice and experience of cooking.  In BYU wards, Relief Society service seemed to be mostly lending a listening ear, so my sad lack of cooking experience was not yet a disadvantage.   But when I got back into family wards, I found that cooking was the gold standard of emergency service.  Since I didn’t feel confident as a cook, the thought of providing a meal to another family was frightening.  I grew up in a family that had several different dishes at dinner and when I cooked, I struggled to make just one.  I felt like others would look down on a meal with only one dish.  My husband and I were used to a one-dish meal, but I didn’t think others would appreciate it much.

I could serve other ways in Relief Society—I could act as a back-up pianist for any kind of musical number because of my sight-reading ability.  I could substitute teach church lessons.  But I was terrified the compassionate service leader would call me to ask me to make a meal for people, and I was always embarrassed if sign-up sheets went around asking for volunteers to provide meals for families.   I didn’t mind putting together a treat for a ward function, but full meals scared me.  I felt really guilty about this too because cooking is a big part of being self-reliant.  A person who could cook for themselves could feed their family well.  Food was a basic necessity of life, and I couldn’t provide that for myself.

One day when I was talking to my mom on the phone, I told her about my inferiority complex about providing emergency meals.  She gave me some very helpful advice.   She suggested that I pick a particular dish that I did know how to cook.  That way I would have something to offer that I knew would be a success and could feel confident making.  She suggested that I make sure I always keep the ingredients around the house just in case I was asked to provide a meal so that I wouldn’t have to waste time going to the store to get the stuff for it.   She also suggested that when I am asked to take a meal to someone, I should say that I could provide a side dish or part of a meal if someone else could provide the other part so that I wouldn’t have the pressure of making a whole meal.

For me, this strategy has worked.  It means I feel confident that I can serve when asked, and I can share at a level that I am capable of.