Elevators

Years ago department stores, skyscrapers and downtown office buildings had elevator operators. Today we ride elevators and push the floor buttons ourselves, but years ago there was a person seated on a stool in the corner with the responsibility of "running" the elevator.

You would enter the elevator and the attendant would ask for the floor number. After announcing your floor the attendant would press that button and announce your arrival by opening the door.

What would it be like to work as an elevator operator? I am sure you would meet a lot of interesting people, have short conversations, and then head to the next floor. 

Eugene Peterson writing in The Pastor: A Memoir, describes his early days in ministry. He says, "it seemed like being put in charge of one of those old fashioned elevators, spending all day with people in their ups and downs but with no view."

It would be easy to say that this description is limited to clergy, but anybody who tries to help people can easily identify with Peterson's description. Parents of teenagers can feel this, teachers in the classroom can identify with this, counselors, caregivers and "people" people are not exempt.

Helping others in their "ups and downs" even though we can't see the full picture shouldn't prevent us from helping.

What would happen if we made a commitment to assist those in their "ups and downs" even though we may not be able to see the full view? What would happen if our commitment extended to those who most needed help even though we may not know all of the reasons for why they are in their situation?

Helping people will always have its "ups and downs" but we are still called to help. When we face this reality, we may be tempted to wish we were elevator operators. "Floor number, please?"