For some odd reason, ever since Mark and I moved into our house in 2004, December seemed to incur some huge bill for something or other that we were not expecting: a letter stating we owed some back tax, buying Marni and then footing thousands in medical bills after she ate rocks on Christmas day, a new hot water heater, etc. It was uncanny. So as December approached each year, we wondered, "What's it gonna be this year?"
A few Decembers ago I was out and about for work and I decided, on work time, to run an errand. As I was backing up to leave out of my parking space, I slightly tapped the bumper of the car parked behind me. Now when I say slightly tapped, I mean slightly tapped. I decided to ignore it since it was almost an indiscernible impact and went on my way. About a half mile away, I got that definite "push" from the Holy Spirit to go back. "What!? It was a tap! I need to get back to work!" The "push" turned into a shove and with an audible, "Arghhhhh!" I spun the car around and went back to the store.
The owner of the car was loading things into the trunk (Great...). I pulled up and told him I'd tapped his bumper and returned to make sure it was ok. He looked at me suspiciously--after all, here I was telling him I'd hit his car, driven away, and then come back. He inspected his bumper (see! He hadn't even noticed!) and then, in his English accent, declared, "Ahh--yes!" I got out of my car and came over to see...There was the smallest scratch ever--about the size of my pinky, barely noticeable..."That's not so bad", I said. HA. The man said, "Well, we'll have to do something about this...After all, it's a Mercedes", which I hadn't noticed at the time. Great. I apologized and gave him my number, told him to get an estimate and I'd pay for the repair, thinking that for a scratch that size, there'd probably be some nail polish the same color he could use to fill it in but what do I know.
I drove away knowing I'd done the right thing, not so much in returning (even though that was the right thing!), but in obeying the Lord when told to return. When I got home from work, the man had left me two messages. "Ms. Williams, this is Peter ___. You had the misfortune of backing into my Mercedes earlier today. I got an estimate and it shall cost $5xx to repair. It will also take 2 days to repair because they have to remove the entire bumper and..." (I closed my eyes and all I heard in my head was "Cha-ching! Cha-ching!" until I heard...)...and I shall require a rental vehicle for the 2 days while my Mercedes is being serviced at an additional cost of $2xx. Please call me so we can discuss the details". That was call number 1. Call number 2, since I apparently hadn't called him back right away, said, "Ms. Williams, this is Peter ____ again. Please know that I made a note of your tag number while you were driving away and I am expecting that you will call me back to rectify this matter of my damaged Mercedes. Thank you".
OK DUDE! I get that I hurt your precious Mercedes! Who says that!? You say,"I got into a car accident" or "My car was rear ended"...not, "My Kia Sportage was rear ended by a Lexus", or "My Geo Prism got into an accident with a VW Bug". URGH! I called the guy back. I asked him if I could write him a check for the estimate and to cover the rental car so we could be done with it...and could he write me up a receipt with a statement that no further cost would be incurred once I'd paid for the bumper damage. He agreed. I asked where I could meet him and he named his place of work. I left to go meet him.
I remember talking on the phone w/ Mom as I drove to drop off the check, a pit in my stomach that here it was around Christmastime and I had to chalk up over $700 because I was honest. Right? If I had just left well enough alone, if I had ignored the Holy Spirit and kept going into work, I never would have been in this situation. And Peter ___ probably would never even have noticed the barely noticeable scratch on his precious Mercedes! Grrrrr...
I arrived at the place and his Mercedes was the only car in the parking lot. "Don't go in!" Mom pleaded, like it was a set up or something. I didn't take Peter ___ as a bad guy so I told her to call me in 10 minutes. A woman, the guy's wife, met me at the door, and escorted me in. "Ahhh, yes, Ms. Williams", Peter ___ crooned from an office. He was sitting at his desk writing up the receipt that I had requested. We sat and chatted a while. I told him about the work that I do, he talked about his work (he managed a golf course). My phone rang and I told Mom all was fine. In the midst of our conversation I learned that his precious Mercedes was a lease and the only reason he wanted it repaired was so he wouldn't have to pay for the damage when he returned the car at the end of the lease term. Hmmm...Made sense to me. Why should he have had to pay for the even slight damage that was truly my fault? Knowing that made it a little (and I mean a little!) easier to hand over the check to him.
He walked me to the door and wished me a Merry Christmas. And that was that. The price of honesty that day was about $700+...but I often wondered what me going back to confess my mishap was worth to Peter ___? Or what it's worth to tell this story to others? Or what it's worth to my integrity overall? I do know that if I had ignored the Holy Spirit, I would have totally short changed myself (pun intended) and even though the whole ordeal cost me, the value in obedience was worth more that the conviction I'm quite sure would have followed if I had kept going to work. So as December approaches this year, and we wonder what will the $$$ be this year, I can only hope it's not connected to a lesson as costly as this one!
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