God works in mysterious ways

A few days ago, in one of my weekly but futile efforts to clean out our closet, I found a note that one of our neighbors wrote us the day we moved from Philadelphia. They didn't realize that they were writing it to us and the truth is that we never actually met them, but I think that they'll always hold a special place in my heart. This is the note, posted one morning on the garbage shoot door:

Attention
Would the person who finds it so amusing to throw trash in front of a door, instead of communication in a normal civil fashion, please identify yourself. We would like talk to you. Be a good neighbor. Identify yourself!

SW/EMW, #1050

My favorite part of the note was the "be a good neighbor" part followed by a threatening exclamation point in the next sentence. We were busy moving and so I was in and out of the trash room roughly thirty times that day and each time I was more and more curious about where all the animosity came from in our otherwise friendly, fun-loving hall. Finally, late in the day, after we had shut (and locked) the moving truck and thought we were finally finished, I went down the hall to check out what was happening in front of apartment 1050.

Imagine my surprise when I discovered that Matt had forgotten to take down a load of boxes, including a box containing a very large and expensive print of George Washington at Valley Forge, a file folder full of his important documents of the last ten years and several other things that would have been sad to lose. He had left them by the service elevator thinking he would take them down but he forgot and left them for a full 24 hours about 10 feet from the door of #1050. At first I was shocked about what we could of lost, then sort of amazed that the neighbors thought our stuff was junk, then worried that we had offended someone, then I just realized how funny the whole thing was. Although they didn't realize it, their hostile note had been an answer to our prayers. I had been praying that everything would go smoothly with the move and that we would be able to hem up all the jagged edges before we left and frankly, that note saved us a ton of trouble. So thank you SW and EMW in #1050. I am now identifying myself to you. Sorry its a bit late. Sorry that I wasn't a good neighbor.!.

So its Sunday night and I am smiling to myself about all the times in my life when things like this have happened. When I've gone back to the house grumbling because I've forgotten the diaper bag only to discover that I had also forgotten to turn off the oven and grab my wallet. Or the time I had the distinct feeling that I would run into an old boyfriend at an obscure time in an obscure corner of BYU campus on a random trip to Provo. The warning prevented me from otherwise showing on my face that I really wasn't glad to see him and allowed me to greet him with more grace than I could have mustered unawares in similar circumstances.

Tonight I am grateful for seemingly little things that are really big things and for the thousands of ways that God lets us know that He is there, that He's aware and that loves us.