My Neighbourhood

So, last night I did something I have never done. I went door to door through my neighbourhood. Now before you get any strange ideas about what I was doing, let me explain.

A few weeks ago I got an email from a neighbour that we already know. It was an invite to consider throwing a "Christmas Open House" for the people that live on our street. No other real agenda to it - just a chance to meet the people with whom we share the street. We plan to have some food, a glass of wine or two, and a chance for people to say hi to one another.

So, we made the plan, set the date, organized who was doing what. Everything was all in order. Then came the time to actually go door to door with the invitations. I was struck by a couple of things.

First, I was struck by the fact that I seemed a bit nervous. Sure they were strangers. Sure we hadn't met. But, all I was doing was inviting people to have some fun. Should that really make me nervous?

Secondly, I was struck by the fact that most people to whom I gave the invite looked at me a bit strangely. Sure, there were one or two who were genuinely thankful for the invite and thought it was a novel and good idea. But, a lot of people seemed a bit like a deer in the invitational headlights. What was this stranger doing at their door? Why was this person they had never met inviting them to something? And, beneath the surface, I suspect there was also a question that ran through their minds and went something like, "Why would I go to a party held by strangers and at which I will feel awkward, unknown and out of sorts?"

Maybe I was reading too much into the 10 second conversations I had at the doors of my neighbours.

Finally, here's what struck me most: I know next to nothing about stories of the lives that are being lived in the houses all around me. And, since last night I have also been struck by a second thought: I profess to believe in a God who knows the hearts,  stories,  worries, hopes, dreams, aches, and beauty of every single person on my street.

That seems overwhelming. I know only a few of the stories of the lives all around me. And, when I know them, I find myself caring, helping, praying for, etc., the people who's stories I do know. That made me think that the heart of God must ache with the knowledge of the stories and lives of humanity. Ache with pain when we suffer - but ache with longing as well when we dream and hope.

In any case, last night I walked through my neighbourhood and I met a bunch of new people. I have no idea if I will meet them this year at our open house. But, I do know that I will wave at a few more people that I met, maybe say hi when we see each other in the street. And maybe, as I get to know their stories a bit more I will find myself praying for them, aching with them as they share hopes and dreams and hurts and pain.

In any case, it was a good thing to do. Based on this post, it seems clear that this is still something that is sifting through me. All of that having been said, the good news is that there will be a party pretty soon with neighbours that right now are strangers - but who might turn out to be friends. And that alone would seem to be a good thing.