my jenga-is-like-life analogy

Our New Year's Eve was a simple celebration. It was bring-your-own-steak night at our house. I had plans to make a few niblets for the night, but you know my plans don't always work out. Saturday afternoon, I left the house to pick up LKN and Baby Jus's girlfriend, run by the store to get our steaks, and a quick stop at the pet store for dog food. The plan was that the girls would help with the niblets while I started things for supper. And we were right on schedule until I backed into a car while leaving the pet store. And then I had to find the owner, make my apologies, wait on the police to arrive, and file a report. My truck wasn't harmed at all. For the second time it was saved by my trailer hitch. And for the second time the other vehicle fell victim to said trailer hitch - it didn't just dent the bumper; it went all the way through it. (The first time, someone hit me from behind - totally not my fault.)

I got home just in time to unload the truck, put a bit of marinade on the steaks, and get the mushrooms and onions ready to cook before friends arrived. Carrie brought a black-eyed pea dip from The Pioneer Woman that was so yummy. And she helped with guacamole while I got the potatoes and bread ready ready for the oven. Clay and Lovey handled the steaks. It was a GREAT supper.

The kids played video games, watched movies, and played some cards while we played Jenga between the guys watching the moonshiner show on Discovery. Later, neighbors and friends joined us for the last few hours of 2011.

We played Jenga a few nights ago, and our record was 32 levels high.

Last night we got 36 levels, and it didn't fall - there were no more moves. It was wobbly, but it didn't fall. After admiring our accomplishment for a few minutes, we had no choice but to pull a block, let the pieces fall, pick them up, and start over. And there's my analogy. Sometimes we reach our goals, or we run out of moves. And what to do then?

Make a drastic, purposeful move.

Deal with the chaos that follows. And start to rebuild.

In 2012, may we all have the courage to make that drastic, purposeful move, even if means picking up the pieces and starting fresh.

Happy New Year to you and yours!
Mer