Willing to Make it Right

"Between services, can you pick up two zucchinis, some stock and a lime?" read a text from Rachel between gatherings this morning. I was scheduled to play in the band so I came to the first service and Rachel was going to meet me at the second service with her whole family (mom, dad, brother, sister-in-law). After the service we planned to have them for lunch so there were a few things I needed at the store before then.

I ran out to my car, cruised over to the store and found a parking spot, of which there were few. For some reason, Sunday is Western Michigan Family Grocery Shopping Day (WMFGSD). Lines are long, even when families are "supposed to" be in church. I turned off the car, grabbed my wallet,
began to open my door and like a sail, a gust of wind gracefully propelled my door into the car beside me.

My agenda hit dead stop. My grocery trip quickly took second priority to the situation at hand. Upon closer inspection, the edge of my door had left an inch-long white scar along the side of my neighbor's fender. It seemed to be the car of a young family, with two carseats in the back. Filled with remorse, I quickly got back into my car, shut the door, found an old receipt and a pen and began to write out my note:

As I opened my car door,

today's strong wind flung

my door into your car on

the driver's side. I am so

sorry. I would be willing 

to make it right.

Sincerely,

Brendan McClenahan

760-579-XXXX

I opened the door (very carefully this time), tucked the note beneath their windshield wiper and went about shopping. I got everything I needed, checked out, and walked back out to the car to see the violated vehicle pulling out of its spot and driving directly toward me.

"They have no idea I'm the guy who wrote the note, who scratched their car!" I said to myself. "Good thing I didn't get come out sooner, arriving at my car while they were reading my confession." I imagined pulling slowly out of my spot with a Ferris Bueller-esque wave and grin and peeling out.

But the truth is I would feel so much better about meeting them and telling them how sincerely sorry I am. So I waved to them and walked up to their window as they rolled it down. I saw a young husband and wife with two cute little daughters in the back seat.

"Hi, I'm the guy who wrote you the note. I am so sorry. I would be more than happy to help you fix it."

"You know what, it's not a big deal. It's a small scratch. Thank you for the note and thank you for being so honest about it," said the man. "Don't even worry about it!"

"Yeah, I opened the door and I didn't realize the wind would be so strong! My door hit your car and I was like NOOOOOOOO! Anyways, I'm Brendan." I shook his hand and he introduced himself and his family. "If you change your mind," I offered, "I will pay for it or whatever you need."

They thanked me once again and drove away. Thank You! to that family for giving me grace so freely. I walked back to my car and breathed a deep sigh of relief. Wow. Real grace feels like that - it feels like an exhale, like a conversation that goes better than you thought it would, like I messed up but it was made right. After I was given grace from strangers, I naturally gave more grace to other people. And it changed the rest of my day! How much more, when I have been given more grace from my God, should I freely and generously give grace to everyone!



*I actually left my whole number, not XXXX. That would have been malicious.