I left home
when I was eighteen
and when I returned
about a month later,
I said to Mammy
(with great indignation!)
“Mammy,
do you know how much food costs?”
“I could write a book about it!”
laughed Mammy.

I feel a wee bit like that today
as I sit down to pray
and attempt to explain to God
how difficult it is
to be a parent.
I can just imagine God
rolling His eyes,
shaking His head
and saying,
“I wrote a book about it!”

At least I know
that I have a sympathetic listener!

And so my morning prayer
continues.
I pray for the grace
to be a good parent
and I pray for
our three grown-up children –
may God keep each one of them
in His loving care.

© Claire Murray, 12th September, 2024

My Hand in Your Hand, Lord

I’ve got a splinter
in my finger.
Nothing strange about that,
you might think.
But this is a splinter
like no other
because it’s invisible!

Even with my magnifying glass
I can’t see the splinter
or a puncture mark.
But I know it’s there
because I can feel it.

People have kindly and patiently
examined my finger
and they, too, can find no sign
of the splinter.
(I reckon that they secretly suspect
that my splinter is imaginary
as well as invisible!)

Every morning I bless my splinter
with Holy Water.
And during the day
I swish my hand about in water
as much as possible,
hoping to wash it out
And, as I do so,
I offer up a quick prayer –
“My hand in Your hand, Lord!”

Working away in the garden
I wear two pairs of gloves
hoping to sweat out
this invisible splinter
and I offer up my quick prayer –
“My hand in Your hand, Lord!”

And so, I place my finger
and my invisible splinter
into God’s hands
every day.

(My splinter couldn’t be
in safer hands, now could it?)

© Claire Murray, 20th September 2024

Lord,
as I walk into the kitchen
this morning
I am just in time to see
a beautiful morning sky –
just before sunrise!
A real masterpiece,
a work of art,
by Your hand, I’m convinced!

Okay,
so there are scientific explanations
for why the sky
is painted pink.
But Who was it who created
the sun, the clouds, the wind,
the atmospheric conditions –
everything that had to combine
perfectly
for this morning glory to form?
You!

This morning masterpiece
reminds me of You.
It fills me with awe
and stops me in my tracks.

And so this morning, Lord,
I give thanks to You
for the awesome beauty
of today’s sunrise
which gladdens the hearts
of all who see it.

© Claire Murray, 21st January 2023

The sun is shining
so we pack a picnic
and head off to Cam Forest,
near Limavady.
We have a new gadget –
a wee, hand-held device
that displays maps
showing roads and paths.

So off we go on our walk
to explore!

Forest paths are lined
with wild flowers of all colours –
spires of pink,
tiny balls of purple,
wee stars of pink and mauve.
Flat heads of cow parsley
sway gently in the breeze
while black bees buzz
all around.

Dark green rushes
with rusty tufts
stand to attention.
Wild grasses shimmer in the sun
as the wind blows waves –
across an expanse of green, gold
and pink.
The last foxgloves of summer
are like pink beacons
in the shade.

A butterscotch-coloured frog,
the size of my thumbnail,
hops across the path
and, as we approach our car,
a hunting bird glides
through the trees.

Thank You, Lord,
for a day filled with peace, colour
and sunshine.
And thank You also
for that handy wee map device
that liberated us
to explore forest roads and paths
without fear of getting lost!

© Claire Murray, 29th July 2024

Last night
we went to Dundrum
after Fiachra’s work.

A picnic overlooking the sea
as we watch a lone man
rowing along the shore
while a glossy crow
eyes us hopefully
as we munch!

A dander along
a disused railway track
where bunnies abound.
Dark-coloured geese
flying in a “V” overhead.

Brilliant white egrets
standing still
by the water’s edge,
like miniature herons.

The forlorn baying
of a donkey
carries across the water
from the far shore.
Darkening slopes of Slieve Donard
in the distance
as light begins to fade.

Finally, driving home
towards a glowing, fiery sunset.

A relaxing evening
filled with beauty
and peace –
thank You, Lord!

© Claire Murray, 17th July 2024

A carpet beetle treks
all the way across
our bathroom floor.
He’s wile, wile, wee –
only about the size
of a granule of instant coffee.

Looking down
I realise that, to him,
I’m a giant –
maybe a hundred thousand times bigger
than he is.
I’m aware that if,
at any time,
a choice had to be made
for who would be inconvenienced,
me or the carpet beetle,
I would win-out
every time.

There would be absolutely no question
of me suffering
for the carpet beetle.
That wee carpet beetle
is so insignificant, you see.

Then I think of Jesus –
all-knowing, all-powerful,
almighty.
Jesus – who came down from heaven
to walk this earth with us
and to die in agony
on a cross for us.

Jesus – compared to Him,
I am way, way smaller
than that wee carpet beetle
and yet He did so much
for me.

And so, as I watch the wee carpet beetle,
I ponder my own nothingness
and the awesome, amazing love
that Jesus has for me.

(Then I scoop up
the wee carpet beetle
and put him outside
where he belongs!)

© Claire Murray, 27th July 2024

Last night
we watched Bishop Fulton Sheen.
He spoke about how,
in the modern, Catholic Church
(this was in the 1960’s)
people don’t seem to do
self-discipline and abstinence
any more.

He saw a culture of,
“I want it, so I’ll have it.
Sure what difference
would it make?” –
a mind-set that is greatly encouraged
by the evil one.

It made me think
about my attitude
to Wednesdays and Fridays –
days that we treat
as days of abstinence.

To be honest,
my heart sinks a little
when I awake
on each of these days
and as I anticipate the abstinences
that lie ahead
(especially the bikkies and chocolate!)

Listening to Bishop Fulton Sheen
made me think …
Rather than seeing
Wednesdays and Fridays
as days when I do without,
why not see them instead
as days when I do something
specially for Jesus?

It could be
like my own wee gift
to Jesus.
A gift that I can give
with a smile
instead of with a sinking heart.
(Doesn’t God love
a cheerful giver?)

And no matter
what other people
or the evil one might tell me,
I know that
each of these days of abstinence,
each wee gift,
will make a difference
to Jesus.

© 18th August 2023

One sunny, summer’s day
Paul and I head off
to visit Uncle Hugh.
The sun blazes down on us
as we speed along
motorways and roads,
all lined with wild flowers
that bow and nod
as we sweep past.

Up the Glenshane Pass
where we are surrounded
by the Sperrins
stretching out all around
in shades of green, yellow
and brown.

Then, Uncle Hugh’s house
where we are greeted
with a smile, a kiss
and a handshake.

Hugh lives in a cottage
that simply oozes charm –
white walls and blue windowsills,
all surrounded by colourful flowers –
a testament to my late Aunt Anna’s flair
and love of gardening.

When tea is ready
we all go out into the garden
where Hugh has set out
a table and chairs
under the laburnum tree
whose delicate branches drape
in welcome shade
all around us.
And that’s where we spend
the afternoon –
chatting and reminiscing,
among the peace and quiet
(while next door’s rooster
proclaims and occasional
“cock-a-doodle-doo”!)

A beautiful, summer’s afternoon
spent with Uncle Hugh.
Hugh is a wee bit stooped now,
but sharp as a tack
and with a deep faith
that gives him the strength
to face-up every day
to life without his wife, Anna
and his son, Anthony.

Thank You, Lord,
for a very happy, sunny afternoon
spent under the laburnum tree
with Uncle Hugh.
It truly was a blessing!

© Claire Murray, 30th July, 2024