What could be worse than being stuck in an elevator for an hour? Well, I can think of many things actually. But one thing that is better than that (not having a frame of reference, not having been stuck on an elevator, I don’t really know what I am talking about, but it’s a good introduction) is being stuck on the MAX train for an hour. There was a power outage and after work, I was just stuck in that seat with no movement. Eventually, I fell asleep, and then I awoke, hearing a girl complaining like a female dog, and the driver released the emergency lever and we all got off. An hour later.
I was chill with it, although I had to text a friend, telling him I wouldn’t make my regular Thursday night gathering of familiar folks, some of whom remain friends. But otherwise, I did not have anywhere else to be. I wish . . . but I did not. The girl’s behavior floored me into appallment, but I suppose we all benefited by getting off.
I am floored—brought to my knees—frequently.
By gratitude. By the flow of this love from the Father. By a hopefulness that is pervasive. And yesterday I learned a new word: vorfreude. According to Krautblog “Vorfreude combines the prefix vor (similar to the English prefix “pre”) and freude (joy, pleasure). The term denotes a form of anticipation that imagines future pleasures ahead of time.”
That is what I mean by a hopefulness that is pervasive, and it pervades even into the present. Even when stuck on a train. Even when I have fallen asleep. And especially when I wake up.
And it floors me . . .