VIPs

At Christmas vigil Mass
I had a sense
that I was a tiny,
absolutely essential part
of a tremendous occasion –
the celebration of Mass.

I had a sense
that this crowded church
was jam-packed
with VIPs.

Each person present
was a beloved child of My God.
Each person present
had been specially chosen by My God.
Each person present
had been called by My God.
Each person present
was precious to My God.

Each person present
had a vital role to play
in this celebration of the Mass,
leading the congregation in prayer
or in song,
reading aloud from the scriptures,
serving the priest on the altar,
distributing Communion,
preparing the church
or simply quietly answering responses.

Each person present
was a miniscule, crucial part
of a monumental celebration.

In the eyes of My God
each person present
was a VIP.

© Claire Murray

Crib

A crib stands on the bookcase
in our living room.
It looks ramshackle,
draughty and cold
but it’s fit for the purpose
for which it was built –
to house animals.

Beside a cow, a donkey
and some sheep
Mary and Joseph kneel
and a shepherd boy stands.
Oblivious to the cold and dirt,
the people gaze at the baby Jesus
who is lying in the manger,
content.

This year I have felt drawn to the crib
in a way that I haven’t been
since childhood.
For the whole of Advent
the baby Jesus was missing
and I missed his presence keenly.

At Christmas vigil Mass
I sensed My God
asking me a question.
His question was not,
“Do you feel
that you have prepared thoroughly enough
to receive the baby Jesus
in your life?”
Neither was his question,
“Do you deserve the baby Jesus
in your life?”
The question was simply,
“Claire, are you willing
to welcome the baby Jesus
in your life?”

When I answered, “Yes!”
with eyes shining,
My God smiled
and whispered in my ear,
“Claire,
I’ll let you into a wee secret;
he’s been there all along!”

© Claire Murray

The Crib

A crib stands on the bookcase
in our living room.
It looks ramshackle,
draughty and cold
but it’s fit for the purpose
for which it was built –
to house animals.

Beside a cow, a donkey
and some sheep
Mary and Joseph kneel
and a shepherd boy stands.
Oblivious to the cold and dirt,
the people gaze at the baby Jesus
who is lying in the manger,
content.

This year I have felt drawn to the crib
in a way that I haven’t been
since childhood.
For the whole of Advent
the baby Jesus was missing
and I missed his presence keenly.

At Christmas vigil Mass
I sensed My God
asking me a question.
His question was not,
“Do you feel
that you have prepared thoroughly enough
to receive the baby Jesus
in your life?”
Neither was his question,
“Do you deserve the baby Jesus
in your life?”
The question was simply,
“Claire, are you willing
to welcome the baby Jesus
in your life?”

When I answered, “Yes!”
with eyes shining,
My God smiled
and whispered in my ear,
“Claire,
I’ll let you into a wee secret;
he’s been there all along!”

© Claire Murray, 26th December 2012

Still Waters

As I cross the footbridge of the River Lagan
I see beautiful morning skies
reflected in the water below.
The clouds of the reflected sky
have deeper shades
and are distorted by ripples and waves.
This imperfect reflection
differs from the sky,
yet is similar
and has a beauty of its own.

I am reminded that deep within me
is a tiny spark of My God
and that each day I am called
to reflect his deep, unconditional love
to my family, friends, students
and strangers.

Sometimes my reflection of his love
is blasted to smithereens
by my impatience, harsh judgements
and temper.
I feel ashamed.
And I wonder whether I am setting myself
too high a standard,
one that is simply impossible
for me to attain.

One evening,
I am surprised to see
that the mighty Lagan
is virtually motionless.
It has been transformed into a dark mirror
reflecting the nightscape of Belfast’s docks
in minute detail.

Buildings, lights, stone archways
and even Nuala with the Hula
are mirrored in the still water
in such perfection
that it is almost impossible to know
where reality ends
and reflection begins.

My heart soars and I feel reassured
that my targets are not too high;
with the help of My God
even the seemingly impossible
is possible after all.

© Claire Murray