I have a note crammed in my pocket.  It is scribbled in black ink, penned with large sprawling letters.  It was written in a hurry.  That matters not to me.  What matters is this: it was written.

I grabbed lunch late today.  As I opened a plastic grocery bag, inside which was my lunch, I discovered not only a sandwich, but also the following note.

Enjoy your lunch.  Hope you are having a good day. 

It was written on the back of our church tithing envelope, but no matter.  This was a special gift, and I think God was smiling in spite of the tithe miss for January 22, 2012.  It was unexpected, impromptu and heartfelt.

Sometimes we are so busy looking for the big things that we miss those all important little moments in life…the hugs from our kids when we are rushing to get supper done, a little hand tucked into ours as we walk from van to house, that call from a friend to check-in about your day, that little note from your hubby stuffed into a plastic Foodland bag with the contents of your lunch.

That note came to me undeserved, making it all the more meaningful.

My husband went to bed last night and was soundly snoring within two minutes.  I was in the bathroom washing my face, and I could hear him through the walls.  The sounds  of exuberant sleeping , mixed with the noise of three angry house flies buzzing around a light fixture in the washroom, was more than I could handle.  I barged into our bedroom, turned on the lights, and announced that I had had enough with the houseflies that have invaded our home, and then I demanded to know what he was going to do about it all .

Admittedly, we have an infestation of house flies.  And, they have been bugging me for months now.  The cold snaps and thaws have been literally drawing them out of the woodwork, and my patience is already frazzled enough, without having to watch my every step in case I step on a squished fly that happens to be lying on every surface of our upstairs level.  It is quite honestly, repulsive to me.  Last night, at exactly 11:01 p.m., I had HAD ENOUGH.   I blew my lid, and I was ready to get a motel room, if need be.  So, I took matters up with my husband, and we had a good half-hour chat about the houseflies, and what to do about them.  I talked, he drifted.  I ranted, he tried to roll as close as possible to the edge without falling off onto the floor.

We both eventually went to sleep, the housefly dilemma unresolved.  I must admit, I was a little annoyed that he was unwilling to jump up out of bed that very second to inspect the fly trap at the end of the hall, which at last count, had twenty flies clinging to it for dear life.  I was horrified, indeed I was repulsed.   As this feeling was not urgently shared by my hubby, I was now also feeling more than a little bit annoyed, frustrated and slightly nauseous about the whole thing.   House flies are good for one thing: the toilet.  Even that is gross.

Falling asleep to the drone of flies, I drifted off… with thoughts rolling around in my brain about what to do about Flygate and whether the crisis would lead to a very lengthy discussion with Health and Public Safety tomorrow,  as well as invoke a costly visit from some kind of exterminator.

Isn’t it funny how God works?  He sure does work on our hearts in creative and mysterious ways.  It was really the note that turned the tide for me.  And, I am sure God had a hand in it all.  That little note took the edge off my ‘fly-off-handle’ mood of the night before.  Furthermore, that little note, devoid of any trappings which denote a real love letter, was able to melt my heart anyway.

Maybe I am just getting old and desperate, but when I see the note crammed in between my orange and cookie, I smile.  It is as good to me as a thousand love letters sealed with a thousand kisses.  There is meaning and purpose behind that note.  That note says to me:

I know I was snoring last night when you came in, and then I got cranky when you turned the light on, and yes, I realize the last thing I felt like talking about last night was flies, especially at 11:30 p.m. (seriously Lori???),  but I still love you, and I’ll bring home some caulking tonight.  Enjoy your lunch.  Hope you are having a good day (because this little note and salami sandwich, baby, is the best it’s gonna get.)

It is within this context that I arrive home today, and after reading the note, and then further reading between the lines of that note, I am less annoyed about Flygate and my mood is softer.    I am not even going to mention the flies.  Imagine my surprise when my hubby does come in the door with a barrel of caulking, contained inside a large gun-like apparatus.  It is enough to melt a girl’s heart.  Never mind the fact that he pretended this dreadful looking contraption was a gun at first and playfully aimed it at the dog.  Boys will be boys.

In the end, boys often grow up to be real men who are willing to do what it takes to make their castle a fly-free zone.  And those who get this far, and are able to fight off the bad guys, really do win the princess’s heart and soul forever.  At least they do in the stories I write.