I came home this evening and things were a bit crazy. My wife had gotten stuck in traffic after shopping, after picking up the kids. She had only arrived home a few minutes before me, kids sprawling everywhere, grocery packages strewn about.
She looked up in horror as I arrived home a bit early, completely unprepared, packages everywhere. "I just came home, traffic, kids, groceries, ..., ...". Taking a deep breath and knowing how hard she works to keep our family in order, knowing that she wasn't feeling well the night before, and knowing that peace in the house (Shalom Bayis) is hard exactly because it's in the house (as opposed to at work, where you are automatically on your best behavior), I asked how I could help.
"Could you, ah, maybe, make dinner?" While my schedule usually precludes this, this hasn't always been the case, and I consider myself a decent cook. (My wife would agree, though she would downgrade my rating as she improperly considers post-cooking-kitchen-cleanup to be part of a proper meal task.) Currently my schedule usually only gives me a chance in the kitchen on Sunday's, and then it's usually only breakfast or lunch. If it's dinner, it's just warming up leftovers on Sunday.
"Sure dear" I responded, and jumped right in. The children were hungry, it was a bit late for dinner for them, so I went for fast meal. Spagetti sauce on hand, boil some noodles, spice up the sauce, a little ground meat, dinner's at hand.
While in the middle, my wife came over and show'd me one of the little daughters projects...
fill in the blank
He Makes Spagetti and Meatballs
Wow, I haven't made it in maybe a year or two. And that's what she chose? Besides giving me a warm loved feeling, I was floored that right as the first time in a year I'm making spagetti and meatballs I get a loving note for doing so.
Nothing is a coincidence, nothing is by accident. Everything is from the hand of heaven.