The Dreaded Elevator

The elevator door opened, and I moved to enter. “I can’t get in there today. Let’s walk up the stairs,” Mother announced. “As religious as you are, you’re scared of the elevator? Don’t you think the Lord can take care of you in there?” was my sarcastic comeback. Well, here I am, forty years later, anxious about getting into an elevator, and I certainly won’t get in one alone. I have stood by an elevator and waited for someone to appear so that we could ride together. I have asked a person to ride up to my floor and then back down to his or her floor. I have no shame! Friends who have been stuck in an elevator love telling me their stories —all of which are absolutely frightening to me.

Once Walter, my husband, got locked in a bathroom stall at church when the door jammed. After that experience, I became anxious about locking bathroom doors in any unfamiliar location. I’ve never thought much about the anxiety disorder of claustrophobia, but I clearly have a fear of having no escape, which could result in a severe panic attack. One day as I was getting dressed for my eye appointment, Walter asked, “What time are you leaving? I’m going with you.” My first thought was, Why? But I was too overjoyed to ask. On the way to the doctor’s office, he shared that a voice kept telling him to go with me. He figured that if he didn’t go and something happened to me, he would never forgive himself. Oh, dear! All kinds of thoughts raced through my mind. Were we going to have an accident? Was the car going to stop? Was I going to get sick? Were we going to get robbed in the parking lot? It was early, and the large parking lot was almost empty when we arrived. The security guard who usually rode up the elevator with me was not at his usual post. No other patients or employees were in sight.

We were all alone. The Lord knew I would be too anxious to ride the elevator alone, so He had already provided a ram in the thicket.

What a mighty God we serve! The following year I witnessed Mother getting into the elevator with no hesitation. “Oh, I decided that the Lord would take care of me,” was her response to my questioning look. With God’s help, I’m looking forward to that day too.

Shirley Sain Fordham