The security guards in my office building are some of the nicest people you’ll meet. Their job is to make sure everyone who enters the elevators has employee ID; and yet, they go way above and beyond their call of duty. They act as doormen, really: they smile, push the elevator up button for everyone, say hello and good day and have a good night, comment on the weather, hold elevators for people...
That holding elevators part... let me say, in my eyes, they’re really putting their lives on the line for us there. I have somewhat of a catastrophic imagination. I’m glad our security guys do it, because, honestly, I hesitate to throw my arm into a closing elevator door.
Well, until now.
In the past, when trying to stop an elevator door from closing, I would cringe and flash my pinky finger into the gap. Usually the door would continue to close and I would be thankful I only risked a minor digit.
A couple weeks ago, one of those thoughtful security guards noticed my hesitation and decided to, again, go beyond his job description, and teach me the proper way to stop an elevator door from closing. He explained that the sensor requires you to put your whole arm into the gap and through to the other side, to the inside of the elevator. Only then is the door triggered to stop.
And so begins my new practice. I have been trusting that putting my whole arm out there will indeed stop the doors from closing… that my arm won’t get stuck between two destinations; that it won’t be crushed and dragged up while the rest of my body stays on the main floor. Stretch. Yikes. I’m trusting that hesitations or half-hearted attempts are actually more dangerous than going all out.
And of course, I can’t help but think now, every time I walk through those doors: you put your whole self in. You put your whole self into this life of faith and trust and adventure. And how great to put that trust in the Lord, knowing that although the risks seem grand and crazy and possibly catastrophic, He is Faithful, He is our Security, He is a Good God.