About a month after the Ash Wednesday service that started this series of written meditations, I found myself embroiled in a misunderstanding with a rental car company. Without realizing it, my new online profile (which had been set up by an agent in Charlotte) with a company I’ll call “Un-Named Rental Car” indicated that “yes, by default, I want to purchase your extra insurance coverage.” I had been in a hurry on my next rental through the Atlanta airport, and had not noticed that I would be responsible for this additional cost. Upon returning the car, my final bill was printed and I noticed the charge, and informed the desk clerk that this had to be a mistake because I had not requested this additional coverage. The clerk made a phone call to a supervisor (as I was feeling antsy to get to my flight leaving from the other side of the busiest airport in the world), and the supervisor relayed the message that, “The charge will be removed as a one-time courtesy.” Great news, and I dashed off.
Some weeks passed, and the charge had not been removed from my credit card bill. So, I called Un-Named Rental Car on their 800 number. Again, I found an understanding customer service representative. After lengthy waits on hold, a supervisor said, yes, that charge will be removed for you as one of our valued Super Rewards Members. All’s good.
Well, apparently all was not good. I started getting mail and phone calls from a debt collector! On calling them back, my story and history was to no avail. Un-Named Rental Car had not put “any of that in writing”, so I owed the $146.62 which was the amount on the original bill I had received.
After wondering if I should just ignore it (in fact, the debt collector told me it’s a small amount, and they won’t come after me with a lawsuit), I realized I needed to take an additional step. I was mad at Un-Named Rental Car for not doing—twice—what they said they would do.
These Lenten readings and writings on forgiveness convicted me. I was holding a grudge against them, and every time I thought about my interaction with Sam the debt collector, my heart and soul were loudly saying, “Unfair! Y’all are treating me wrongly! Why can’t you just do what you said you would do!” I knew that holding a grudge would damage me, and damage them. So, in the midst of this Lenten writing journey, I sent the following letter.
14 March 2016
Dear Sam,
It’s been three weeks since we’ve spoken. I hope you will remember me. I had a trip with my work that took me literally around the world. I arrived home on the evening of March 11, so I’m just now getting back to paperwork waiting for me.
I won’t recall in writing all of the various details surrounding this matter of which Un-Named says I owe them $146.62, though I claim I was assured twice, in conversation—once at the return garage in Atlanta airport where this happened, and another after a long wait on their 800 number—that as a Super Rewards Member, this would be credited back to me as a one-time courtesy. (Another fascinating part of it: my last phone call to Un-Named right before I left the USA, the rep told me that it was her opinion that I didn’t owe, but she was powerless to wipe it out. That would have to be with a Mr. R.H., so she emailed him, I called him and left a message, and he never called me back.)
Though this is a very small matter in the big picture of life, I’m choosing to write a check to settle the ‘debt’, and be done with it. I think it would be best to take the high road—and not have a physical or emotional reaction every time I hear ‘Un-Named Rental Car’ the rest of my life! It’s kind of funny: They think I owe them money, and I think they owe me an acknowledgement that I don’t!
I’m a Christian, and I’m doing a Lenten study of forgiveness. I’ve been really struck with how Jesus forgave those who were treating him wrongly. He purposely took action to not hold things against people. (My treatment has not been the best, but nothing compared to what He went through obviously! But I am very disappointed in how Un-Named has handled this in a non-professional way. I won’t detail all that here; it’s not worth it. These are small potatoes.)
All of that to say, here’s a check for the original bill of $146.62. The correspondence you sent indicated an interest charge. I heard you say on the phone you weren’t worried about that. However, if I misheard you, please tell me how much interest I owe you and I will send you a check.
My only requests are that you send me a receipt for the amount paid to
Fredrick Boswell
103 Honeycutt Rd
Hazel Green, AL 35750
And, if this has been submitted to the great credit database for unpaid bills and delinquent people, please notify them that I have paid. My credit rating is excellent, and I might as well keep it as good as possible.
If you want to send a copy of my letter to Un-Named Rental Car, feel free!
Thanks, Sam,
Freddy
End of the story? Several days later, I received an envelope marked with the return address of the debt collector’s office. Inside was the check I had sent to them. The words “Account cancelled by Un-Named Rental Car Company” were written on the check.
Case closed, without further correspondence. The debt collector had voided the check.
Maybe my offer of forgiveness, mentioning the example of Jesus, gave rise to an unexpected ending? I’ll never know. But I do know that I had exhausted all logical means of reasoning.
Whether it had ended with a voided check or had ended with them cashing the check, I look back and know that, for me, the extension of forgiveness was the right move. I could not continue to meditate further on Jesus’ demonstration of forgiveness and come to a different conclusion about what to do. His Word convicts! And I’ve noticed, His Word often convicts us when we aren’t expecting it to do so.
Freddy Boswell 