We never saw it coming.
High marks dominated the website.
A plethora of positive comments.
They quoted us a reasonable price and assured us they didn’t need to come look first. Congenial and professional when they arrived, they couldn’t help but show a little dismay at the amount of “stuff” we had boxed up in our three bedroom house. I won’t say sentimental hoarding might be a problem?
We told them in all fairness we would pay them more.
Halfway through the day it was apparent they didn’t bring a large enough truck. But since we were only moving a few miles they chirped, “No worries, we will just unload one batch and come back and fill it again.”
By the time we limped over to the new house, darkness descended. Not a problem, except we noticed something strange when we pulled up.
No lights, nada, nowhere in the whole culdesac.
A random power outage meant disaster for us.
Desperate, I eased my car onto the front lawn and pointed my high-beams into the living room.
There were three major problems created that dark night:
Number one—The house was so pitch black it was impossible to put the carefully labeled boxes into the correct room. Every stick of furniture and every box had to be piled sky-high in the living room.
Two—We had no control of what was hap-stacked where and all our clothes ended up smooshed on the back wall under mounds of other boxes and flat inaccessible. (Of course I hadn’t thought to get out more than two days worth of clothes before the move.)
Three—We were going to have to carry box after box and furniture upstairs by ourselves when we could finally sort out the jumble.
The crew offered with hesitation, to fill the truck again that evening or, “If it is ok, could we come back at nine in the morning? And could we go ahead and get our pay for the day?”
Tired and disheartened by the lighting situation, we wrote them a check and agreed morning would be best.
I know, I know, dumb is an understatement.
The morning’s donut peace offering remained untouched when nine-thirty passed and ten, and phone calls and texts weren’t returned.
We called the bank and stopped pay on the check.
We had to be out of our house the next day.
The Preacher stalked every moving company listed. When he found some guys that could come at two, I nearly kissed them when they actually arrived.
When the original crew leader realized he couldn’t cash the check, he then decided to call. It was hard, hard, hard to speak civil words through the anxiety and stress he had imposed on an already stressful day.
He assured us he was making no money on the job, it was all going to the poor guys who did most of the work. ( And they did work hard.) His excuse was that the job was bigger than he expected and he had to cut their losses and go to the next job.
I guess I am naive.
I thought ethical behavior dictated that we would never be left with a house half moved and a looming deadline. Who does that to someone?
So I had to practice what I knew, clamp my mouth shut, and wade through the excuses to give grace.
God didn’t give me what I deserve.
So I gave them what they didn’t deserve, a civil response and the full money owed.
But you know what?
Unmerited favor has an unexpected bonus.
The ability for the giver to move on and sleep peacefully. Till this writing, I never gave him another thought.
2 Corinthians 1:12 Now this is our boast: Our conscience testifies that we have conducted ourselves in the world, and especially in our relations with you, with integrity and godly sincerity. We have done so, relying not on worldly wisdom but on God’s grace.
-When have you had to extend grace?
-If there is someone you need to extend grace to now, pray for strength to do it.