Pot Luck

It’s one of those days when many thoughts are circling in my head. It could be good.

At dinner last night I fixed spaghetti and meatballs. Despite what anyone in my household claims to be their favorite meal, I guarantee that spaghetti and meatballs is the most successful meal ever served at our home. No one complains. Everyone eats ... and they eat a lot.

Creed will say pizza is his favorite; Heath will claim chicken and fries. But, none of those are accepted with the same dinner table quietness. Isn’t that when you know a meal is good? When everyone is just focused on eating and not on other noises?

Eating at home ... unless you count Naomi’s dinner table or the meals my grandma used to make ... is usually the same for everyone gathered. It isn’t like going to a restaurant where all diners order their own dishes. The only time that differs is pot luck night.

Pot luck – it’s when a few days of leftovers are brought out and family members pick and choose which ones they want. I remember these on occasion when growing up. I guess that means we usually ate all the food to avoid leftovers or the remaining morsels were fed to the family dog. In my household today I eat the most leftovers, often having them for lunch the next day.

Sometimes, though, we do join together for bits of this and that. The boys are usually excited as everyone gets to “order” what they want for dinner.

I think that is what makes pot luck successful. It is the option to choose. We, as a society, seem to like choices. Look at a cereal aisle in a supermarket and know that choices are bountiful.

Here’s a thought ... what if we considered life to be a pot luck dinner? We don’t like everything that is set before us, but we do like parts of it. Why don’t we take the good and combine it together? Isn’t that what we try to do anyway? Isn’t that why you forgive your loved ones’ little flaws and embrace their greater good?

It makes me think about what I bring to the table. For the perfect pot luck meal, what will people choose out of my characteristics? It won’t be my patience. While some things push me for a while, the most miniature seem to trip me and make me fall flat on my face. I am reminded of this every morning as we try to get ready to leave the house.

We can all pick out our shortcomings, our weaknesses, the areas we want to improve. I heard on the radio this morning that we are all full of guilt. We can always pick out what is wrong with us and place blame on ourselves for it. After all, that is easy.

So, challenge yourself. Find your strengths. (I’m calling a search party for mine.) Then, celebrate them; bring them to the table and you’ll have one of the most amazing pot luck dinners ever.