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

A sprained ankle
confines me to the house
for a couple of weeks.

Then,
the swelling subsides
and I discover that,
if I wear sturdy walking boots
and walk carefully,
I can go out for walks again –
Y A Y ! ! !

And so,
this week finds me …
riding on the train
into Belfast city centre
for coffee

… up Divis Mountain
where dozens upon dozens
of wee, tiny caterpillars
sporting Kilkenny GAA colours
(gold and black stripes)
wriggle and wiggle
with determination
all the way
across the narrow road.

… dandering along
the Greenway at Omeath
where brightly-coloured butterflies
poise,
daintily and beautifully,
on buddleias of pink, mauve
and purple.

… and finally
off to Drumkeeragh Forest
where the light scent
of freshly-sawn pine
wafts across our path.

Thank You, Lord,
for the gift of healing
and for the blessing
of being fit
to go out for walks again.

(May I never again
take this tremendous blessing
for granted!)

© Claire Murray, 30th July 2023

Sometimes I struggle
to deal with people
who have wronged me
or whom I distrust.
I know
that I should pray for them.
But what exactly
should I pray for?
A change of heart
in them?
A change of heart
in myself?

I find myself absolutely
stumped.

But tonight I watch
Mother Angelica
on YouTube
as she describes an encounter
with a taxi driver
in New York.

The taxi driver
was a young woman
who is clearly resentful
of her passenger.
She was grumpy
and would not engage
in conversation.
Mother Angelica took the hint
and stopped chatting.

After her short taxi ride
Mother Angelica paid her fare,
gave the driver a generous tip
and said, “God bless you!”

The taxi driver
with huge tears in her eyes replied,
“No. God bless you!”

This simple story
makes a deep impression on me.
Maybe
I’m overcomplicating things.
Maybe
my prayer for those people
who have wronged me
should simply be
three little words –
“God bless him/her!”

I think that, in future,
I’ll try that.
I’ll keep my prayer for those people
simple –
just like Mother Angelica did!

© Claire Murray, 13th July 2024

Today I met a lady
called Lilian
when I was shopping
in Lidl.

Lilian’s eyesight
is beginning to fail.
She has no feeling
in her feet
and three fingers
on her right hand
no longer work.
She relies on her mobility scooter
to get out and about.

And do you know
what Lilian was doing?
She was counting her blessings!

Blessing Number One:
the joy that Lilian gets
every Christmas and Easter
when she creates
dozens and dozens
of hampers
jam-packed with goodies.
These hampers generate money
for many charities.

Blessing Number Two:
Lilian has managed to save up
enough money
to go on the diocesan pilgrimage
to Lourdes
(for the eleventh time!)
Our Lady will shower her
with blessings
while volunteer doctors, nurses
and young people
will tend to her medical needs
and even provide entertainment
in the evenings.

Blessing Number Three:
The love of her mother
who raised nine children
and who taught, by example,
the importance of sharing
what little you have
with those who have nothing.

Blessing Number Four:
Lilian is grateful
that she has been able to forgive
the group of teenagers
who injured her three fingers.

Blessing Number Five:
Lilian enjoys the company
of her friends
Martina and Clare
who visit her regularly
and who help her out.

And that’s just the beginning
of Lilian’s list of blessings!

This evening
as I settle down to pray
I decide to list
some of my own blessings.

Blessing Number One:
Today I met Lilian,
a lady who is full to brim
and overflowing
with Christian hope
and love.
Truly inspirational!

Thank You, Lord!

© Claire Murray, 20th June 2024

One day, when I was wee,
Mammy found me sitting
at the foot of the stairs
doing absolutely nothing.
“What’s wrong, Claire?”
she asked.
“I’m sad”, came my doleful reply.
“Why are you sad?” asked Mammy.
“I don’t know”, I replied.
“I’m just sad”.

To this day,
I have absolutely no idea
what I felt sad about!

Over fifty years later
I feel just like my younger self.
I’m sad.

This time,
I know exactly
what I’m sad about
but, to be honest,
that’s not much consolation.

Yesterday
we saw a rat
around our bird feeder
and we have had
to take the decision
to stop feeding
all of our wee birds.

Bull finches and gold finches,
blue tits and long-tailed tits,
dunnocks and sparrows,
siskins and blackcaps.
These all flock to the feeder
in our garden,
bringing such joy to us
as we wash the dishes,
eat dinner
or drink our Elevenses
in the garden.

This morning
as I sit in prayer,
I try to figure out
a Catholic response
to losing our wee birds.

I remember something
that Mother Angelica said –
“Never let your suffering
go to waste!”
And I resolve
to do just that.
Every time I miss the antics
of our colourful wee birds,
I’ll offer that sadness
up to God.
(I’m convinced
that God will be able
to do something positive
with that sadness).

Also,
I give thanks to God
for our good neighbour
who will continue
to feed those wee birds
from his own garden,
so they won’t go hungry.

And as I finish my morning prayer
I’m already beginning to feel
a little less sad.

Isn’t God good?

© Claire Murray, 7th June 2024

Only last week
icy Arctic winds
blasted down our wee street,
icing roads
and frosting cars …
brrrr!!!

But today,
as we drive to Randalstown,
spring is definitely
in the air.

Shy snowdrops
nestle into hedges
and golden crocuses
stand boldly in swathes
as we pass.

In Randalstown Forest,
a herd of deer
watches us cautiously
from a distance
before leaping gracefully away
one … by … one –
all seventeen of them!

Finally,
as we picnic in the car park,
a wee, tiny goldcrest
hops about the shrub
right beside us,
inspecting every leaf and twig
(and there are many!)
for insects,
his flame-bright crest
flickering
through the branches.

Thank You, Lord,
for the gift
of a gentle, spring day.
A day of new life
poised
on the verge of splendour.
A day to make us smile
and to fill us with the promise
of warmer days ahead.

© Claire Murray, 28th January 2024