Egham Boiler Room

As I stepped back from the ‘prayer station’ I had agreed to set up in the Lent and Easter prayer room I was a bit shocked. What was supposed to be a nice place to pray and symbolically splash red paint over newspaper articles to show the reconciliation Christ brings to all creation, had turned into something from an overly graphic horror film. The splashes and drips of ‘blood’ freaked me out. Somehow you couldn’t make a ‘nice’ representation of Jesus’ reconciliation of the world symbolising blood. What did I think blood looked like? Perhaps I believed Jesus’ blood was somehow nicer, tasting of red wine perhaps. Whatever I thought suddenly I was face to face once again with another reminder of the true cost of the cross.

Forgiveness and reconciliation set the theme for the week, both in how we were praying and in what was doing in people’s lives. I love the way that God uses different prayer weeks in such different ways. Owen commented at the beginning of the prayer week that he felt there was something different about it and God was going to use it in a different way. The first couple of days felt quite hard, and a little disappointing; prayer slots were hard to fill and it felt difficult to focus on prayer. However something changed on Tuesday night, and from Wednesday the week seemed to gain momentum. It was exciting to find on a number of occasions two different groups passionately praying in different rooms. We were pleased to have visitors come too; someone from Kansas City boiler room with her friend who lives in London, a group from WEC and others.

We had a meal together every night in the prayer room which was a real blessing and have a focus to the day. It was a great opportunity to meet new people. Rita, one of the ladies who has faithfully served the church where the prayer room is based for the last forty years cooked us a fish pie and told us some stories of what had happened in the church. On Thursday night there is a youth club for local teenagers in the church building. They were fascinated by the prayer room, although seemingly a little embarrassed about what there friends thought about them hanging out in there, and so darted in and out and maked stupid comments when they could get away with it. It wasn’t the most conducive atmosphere to prayer, but some of them were genuinely interested, asking for prayer for their nan or uncle. One of the more disruptive boys later popped his head round the door to appologise and to say he loved Jesus and went to the Catholic Church down the road.

We had an encouraging week, and although locking up on the last evening I was exhausted and pleased to have made it through the week, I was also excited about what God was doing in and us and in our local community. I’d like to finish with the Anglican prayer we were led through every morning by clergy from the local churches…

Almighty God,
whose most dear Son went not up to joy but first he suffered pain,
and entered not into glory before he was crucified:
mercifully grant that we, walking in the way of the cross,
may find it none other than the way of life and peace;
through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
Amen.