Peace to this house

We're getting going on our prayer journey.
Or at least I am. Don't know if there's anyone going to be travelling with me yet. Unless you comment. (Hint hint)
Anyway, after talking last Sunday about the idea of prayers as a relationship, and posting the exercises suggested by Gerard and Chrissie Kelly in their book, here'a little report on my first steps.

This has been Christian Aid Week, a time when we try to deliver envelopes to as much of the parish as we can manage, and invite people to fill them with money and bring them back to church on Sunday, where coffee cake and a car wash await them. And a smile. And a box to put their envelopes in. We don't raise as much money as we would if we did it the traditional way, of returning to each house where we'd delivered an envelope, and asking for a donation. But that's hard, and some people are rude and unwelcoming, and the church family by and large are not willing to do this any more.
And to be fair to the community at large, nobody knocks on someone's door in the evening, unless it's an emergency, and nobody asks for money these days, and if they do, we feel embarrassed and offended. But the discussion about door to door collecting belongs in another place.

All that is just to say that I have been walking the streets, delivering around 300 envelopes, and taking the opportunity to try and pray while I walked.
It's interesting to reflect, after 8 years here, just how many of the houses and the people who live in them I now know. A surprisingly large number. I have been privileged to be invited in to many of the houses, and into the stories of the lives of those who live there. So as I walk up their garden path, I can call them to mind, and commend them to God's love.
And for those I don't know, there are always clues about who lives there. Can I see toys in the garden? Then there's children. A handrail by the door? Someone elderly, probably living alone. Pets? Decorations? All clues that have helped me aim an arrow prayer heavenwards for God to bless the likely occupants of this house.

But I also need to confess that doing this yearly job makes me nervous. I'm not a natural postman. I used to work on large council estates in London, often delivering bad news such as details of rent arrears and eviction notices. I got a hostile reception. I've had my hand bitten by a dog, pushing a letter through a door, and a loud volley of barking as I approach someone's house always makes my pulse race. I'm very aware that I'm stepping on to someone's territory  and occasionally I catch suspicious looks as the curtain is twitched aside, and an anxious resident looks out to see who is invading their space.
So it's been very calming to imagine myself as an emissaary of peace. I remembered Jesus' instructions to his disciples when he sent them out in pairs: “When you enter a house, first say, ‘Peace to this house. If someone who promotes peace is there, your peace will rest on them; if not, it will return to you.”
"Peace to this house," I say, as I push open the letterbox, and shove a little red envelope through. I imagine myself not bringing them a request for money, not remonding them of their responsibility to the poor, which might evoke feelings of guilt or annoyance, but bringing them a gift.
It's been a positive experience.
So - people of Rushen Drive, Oak Tree Close, Trinity Road, London Road and the Roundings - be blessed today!