This is the real-life allegory of how law meets grace through an advocate.
I was the perfect tenant. I paid rent on time, I didn't make noise, and when I moved out, I cleaned the apartment out. I made sure the place was swept, vacuumed and that all the counters were clean.
(always keep everything in writing, boys and girls. The more you know...)
So yesterday, when I finally got in touch with my [now former] landlord (which I had tried to do every day since I moved out on Friday) about getting him my keys and getting back my deposit, he questioned me about my 30 day notice, and said he remembered me calling him but he couldn't prove it in writing to his accountant, so he wanted to just give my part of my deposit back instead of all of it, to "save him the hassle" of explaining it to his accountant.
I didn't argue, but I didn't think that was a fair deal either, so I simply told him I'd meet him at the agreed-upon time.
Then I called Dad and asked him for his advice, and then picked him up on my way to the landlord's office. When we got there, Dad started to negotiate with the landlord, reminding him that even if my 30-day notice couldn't be proved in writing, I had given him notice. Furthermore, I kept the place clean, and had even saved the landlord money by telling him approximately how many gallons per month (4,000) the bathtub faucet was leaking out. Dad also reminded him that he hadn't completed my maintenance requests (with the exception of the bathtub faucet) or complied with city ordinances about window screens. The landlord said he was already giving me a break by even giving me part of the deposit though his management company's policy is to not return the deposit without a written 30-day notice.
Dad persisted, offering up the idea of giving me part of the deposit and "paying" me the rest as if I were a cleaning service, and suggesting we might need to talk to our "lawyer" about it... and after 45 minutes, Dad eventually wore him down. I got my whole deposit back, and as soon as we got out of the office, Dad directed me to go to the bank immediately to cash the check instead of deposit it, so that there would be no chance of the landlord stopping the check.
I feel so blessed to have a father who takes care of me like that, who willingly steps in my place to fight the battles I do not have the strength or knowledge to fight, and who champions my cause simply because I am his child and he wants me to be nurtured as I grow up and mature in this confusing, and sometimes dark and scary world.
But I am even more blessed to have a heavenly father who has done the very same for me.
I was raised well, taught to do what was right, followed many of the rules and became a model citizen in society. I even graduated summa cum laude. That counts for something, right?
But according to the law, if I've broken just one of the 10 commandments - even if I followed all the rest religiously - I've broken the whole law, and am deserving of punishment.
But God my father desires to take care of me. He sent his son Jesus to willingly take my place, being punished on my behalf, and fight off the long arm of the law for me. Jesus championed my life simply because I am his, and he protects those who are his, because he wants me to grow and mature according to His plan for me.
I am truly blessed.
