It’s raining … again.
There’s been so much rain recently.
“Is it ever going to stop?”
I ask my good friend, Josie.
“Wait to you see”, replies Josie,
“It’ll be great for the daffodils!”

And Daffodil Cottage pops
into my mind
(at least, that’s what I call it!)
It’s an old, deserted, stone cottage
with a red, corrugated iron roof
that stands on a hillside
just outside Dungiven.

Any paths or laneways
have long since disappeared
and now it stands, all alone,
at the top of a long field.

You know, I never even knew
that it was there …
until one day I drove past
in daffodil season
and spied hundreds of daffodils
growing in the field,
just in front of the wee house,
shining all golden
in the sunlight.

It really was quite a sight!

Amazing to think that every year,
the daffodils continue to bloom
so many years after being planted
by a keen gardener
who is long since gone.

Maybe after all this rain,
the daffodils will be
even more resplendent
than usual?

I do hope so!

(But I also offer up a quick prayer –
Please, Lord, let the rain end soon!)

© Claire Murray, 10th February 2026

In 1974, Philippe Petit
did the unthinkable –
he constructed a tight-rope
between the twin towers
of the World Trade Center.
Then, armed only with
a long balancing-rod,
he crossed the tight-rope,
moving back and forth,
between the towers
while fascinated New Yorkers
watched, transfixed
more than 1,000 feet below.

Such skill, such nerve,
such a feat!

I know a tight-rope walker.
Her name is Reshma
and she walks a tight-rope
every day.

This tight-rope is not one
carefully constructed
by Reshma
and it’s certainly not one
that she has chosen
but it’s one that she walks,
by necessity.

This is the tight-rope
of life.
It’s challenging, un-nerving
and uncertain.

And as she walks this tight-rope,
Reshma, too, has a balancing-rod –
her faith,
a faith that is deep
and strong as steel.

Armed with this faith,
Reshma walks her tight-rope,
keeping her eyes looking
straight-ahead –
at Jesus.

Reshma never takes her eyes
off Jesus
and Jesus never takes His eyes
off Reshma.

And no matter how exhausting,
excruciating, frustrating
her daily tight-rope walk may be,
one thing is certain –
Reshma is never alone.
She has Jesus before her
as her guide.

Reshma and Jesus walk this tight-rope
every single day
together.

Now that’s what I call
inspiring!

© Claire Murray, 29th January 2026

Shortly after being sent
on a training course
I received my first assignment –
an essay on theories of learning.

There followed an afternoon
of staring at a blank page
as I struggled to tackle
such an airy-fairy subject.

Then I remembered something –
a friend of mine had lent me
her notes for that same course.
Plan B began to form in my mind –
if I could read my friend’s essay,
I just might get an idea
of how to start writing
about this waffly topic!

With some sense of expectation
I opened my friend’s folder
only to find printed copies
of the lecturer’s notes,
identical to my own.
Not a single essay in sight!

I realised that I was well and truly
on my own –
there was no Plan B after all!

This all springs to mind
as I pray the Sorrowful Mysteries.
I’m thinking about
the Agony in the Garden,
you see.
Knowing His betrayal to be imminent,
Jesus has gone off on His own
to prepare Himself
for the torturous ordeal
that lies ahead.

As He prays,
Jesus’s anguish and torment
is so great
that even He resorts to
Plan B –
going to His closest friends
for comfort and reassurance.
Except …
when Jesus reaches His friends
He finds them all to be
fast asleep.

There is no Plan B
and Jesus is left to face His terrors
alone.

Life is so often like that –
Plan B simply isn’t
what it’s cracked-up to be
and we find ourselves
desolate and alone.

Except …
we’re not alone
because Jesus is always there
ready to help each one of us
with the challenges of life
if we only ask.

We can’t rely on Plan B –
but we can always rely on Plan God!

© Claire Murray, 3rd December 2023

I’ve twisted my ankle
and I’m not yet able
to go for long walks.
So, after a wee dander
along Tollymore’s tree-lined avenue,
I retire to the car
while Paul and Fiachra head off
for a proper walk!

Tea, followed by the Rosary –
that’s the plan!

Sitting in the back seat of the car,
feet up
and cup of tea in hand,
I glance up at the car-roof window
and I notice a blue winter sky,
so clear
and so beautiful!
I smile to myself.

Then, tea finished,
it’s time for the Rosary.

Opening my eyes
as I finish the Rosary,
I find a surprise.
There, framed in the car-roof window,
is a perfect white cross
in a blue sky.

Wow!

Planes flying overhead
have criss-crossed,
leaving this beautiful cross
in our car window
for me to see.
I feel truly blessed
to have seen it
and I sense God’s hand
at work.

A short time later,
Paul and Fiachra return,
eyes shining as they tell tales
of deer and red squirrels
in the forest.
I’m delighted for them
because they saw something
that was special.
But I’m aware
that I saw something special too –
that cross in the sky.

And I feel truly blessed!

© Claire Murray, December 2025

Mammy told us many things
when we were wee.
Some of these
I have discounted over time
(such as our family being descended
from the kings of Derry and Donegal!)
Others, I have held onto.
Such as Mammy’s instruction
regarding moths –
“Never kill a moth
because it could be
a handsome prince
in disguise.”

To this day,
I never knowingly kill a moth
(even though I know for a fact
that it’s not a handsome prince!)

So today,
when I spotted a tiny moth
in our bathroom,
I rushed to get a plastic cup
to rescue him.
But as I moved towards him,
cup in hand,
the moth leapt about two inches
into the air
before falling down motionless
on the window sill.

“Oh dear!”
I thought to myself,
“I’ve given him a heart-attack!”

Saddened,
I placed the plastic cup
over the wee moth
and left the bathroom.
Ten minutes later
I checked the bathroom.
There was no sign of life
but I just couldn’t bring myself
to squish the wee moth.

Imagine my surprise
a short time later
when I went into the bathroom
and the moth was no longer
on the windowsill –
he was at the very top
of the plastic cup
on the inside!

He was alive after all!

Within a few minutes
the wee moth had been released
into the front garden.

Yay!!!

Later on
I find myself thinking
about the wee moth …

That wee moth was beautiful.
He was created by God
Who blessed it with the nature
to play dead when in danger.
and Who went to all the trouble
of creating a wile, wile wee heart
inside that tiny body.

I find myself thinking …
if God cares that much
about a wee, tiny moth,
how much more does He care
about each one of us?

And I also find myself thinking …
that wee moth surprised me
enormously …
how much more
will God surprise me,
if only I give Him the chance?

Isn’t God is truly wonderful ?
(far better than a handsome prince,
for sure!)

© Claire Murray, 2nd January 2026

Have you ever wondered
whether there is a patron saint
of D-I-Y ?

I wonder about it …

When I’m standing
at the foot of a ladder
while Paul repairs a gutter,
patches-up a porch
or repairs roof cement
I wonder … and I pray.

When Paul is sawing wood,
drilling holes,
building a log store
or fitting cladding to a wall …
I wonder … and I pray.

When Paul is painting a ceiling
high above the stairs,
when he is fitting smoke alarms
or laying loft insulation …
I wonder … and I pray.

I’m never quite sure
who to pray to
because I’ve never heard
of a patron saint of D-I-Y .
But I pray to Saint Joseph.
He was a carpenter, you see,
and if anyone knows
all about D-I-Y,
surely it’s a carpenter!

St Joseph, patron saint of D-I-Y …
I think that has a certain ring to it!
(Don’t you???)

© Claire Murray, 18th November 2025

Heart of Jesus

Buenos Aires, 1996.

A desecrated host
which has been found in the chapel
has been placed reverently
in a glass of holy water
to dissolve.
This glass is then locked safely away
in the tabernacle.

A week later
the glass no longer contains
a host –
it contains, instead,
a piece of flesh.

Three years later
the flesh remains in the glass.
It has not decayed
at all.

A sample is sent away
to a forensic pathologist
for examination.
This man is unaware of the background
of this piece of flesh.
His conclusion?
This is flesh
taken from the heart of a living person
whose body was under severe stress
at the time.
Its blood group is AB.

This is the same blood group
as Our Blessed Lord.

While this has never been declared
to be a miracle,
it is very much in my mind
as I kneel in adoration
before the Blessed Sacrament.

Not only is Jesus on the altar
in the form of body, blood,
soul and divinity
(as if that isn’t enough!)
but this is the very HEART of Jesus!

This blows my mind.

The Blessed Sacrament on the altar
feels infinitely more precious now
and I find myself praying
the words of an old hymn:

“Heart of Jesus, Heart of Jesus,
burning with love for me,
inflame my heart,
inflame my heart
with love,
with love for Thee.”

These words express perfectly
what I wish to say.
I need to add only one word –
Amen!

© Claire Murray, 11th November 2025