Monthly Archives: March 2013

Night Sky

Posted on by
Reply

On our return to our holiday house
after the Easter Vigil Mass at Fanad,
I step out of the car
into darkness.
When I look up
I see a cloudless night sky,
black,
with an amazing array of stars
that twinkle down on me.
I gasp
and stand staring up at the sky
at this unexpected beauty.

Several years ago
I saw an equally beautiful display of stars
when I stepped out of our car
on the Glenshane Pass.

As I gaze in awe
at the glittering night sky
I am aware
that these many thousands of stars
have been present in the night sky
every single evening
since the last time I saw them.

Many nights
light pollution
has kept them hidden from me
but I’m convinced that on many evenings
I failed to see these stars
simply because
I was too busy to look.

So it is with My God.
Sometimes I am blessed
with glimpses of God
in my prayer,
in Mass
and in the extraordinary people
of my everyday life.

But although I’m not always aware
of the presence of My God,
he is always with me,
just as those beautiful stars
are always in the night sky
even when I can’t see them.

© Claire Murray

Adrift

Posted on by
2

Lent has been a long six weeks
of prayer,
of going to Mass when I can
and of giving up
some of my favourite things
as I try to deepen my awareness
of the presence of My God
in myself, in others
and in the Eucharist.

Then the Easter Ceremonies began.

On Holy Thursday
I was reminded of the humility of Jesus
when he placed himself, the master,
at the service of others
as he washed the feet
of his disciples.
I was reminded of the generosity of Jesus
as he made himself available
to every single one of us
through his institution
of the Eucharist.

On Good Friday
I relieved the torture, agony,
brokenness and humiliation
of Jesus
as he endured the torment of crucifixion
for me.

Now it’s Easter Saturday,
a long day, without ceremonies
and without guidance.
I feel that I have been cut adrift,
lost somewhere between
the agonising passion of Jesus
and the joy of his Resurrection.

So, on Easter Saturday,
I kneel in prayer,
in the church of St Mary
in Fanavolty
and I wait
because I don’t know
what else to do.

© Claire Murray

Vigil

Posted on by
Reply

Easter Saturday felt
like a day without direction,
too late for the death of Jesus
and yet too early
for his Resurrection.
It felt like a day spent
in no-man’s land.

But at the Easter Vigil Mass at Fanavolty,
on Easter Saturday night,
that sense of nothingness was replaced
by a sense of anticipation
and by a sense of unity
as the congregation waited
in semi-darkness
while Fr Pat lit the Paschal fire
behind the altar.

Together we watched
as altar servers lit candles
which, in turn,
lit other candles
so that gentle light spread
throughout the church.
And once our candles
had dispelled the darkness,
together we all waited
for readings of the Good News.

Our Easter Vigil Mass
was all about
waiting, anticipation, purpose
and expectancy.

Together, we waited in prayer.
Together, we spread the light
and together we listened
to the Good News
that Jesus is risen.

Halleluia!

© Claire Murray

Vigil

Posted on by
Reply

Easter Saturday felt
like a day without direction,
too late for the death of Jesus
and yet too early
for his Resurrection.
It felt like a day spent
in no-man’s land.

But at the Easter Vigil Mass at Fanavolty,
on Easter Saturday night,
that sense of nothingness was replaced
by a sense of anticipation
and by a sense of unity
as the congregation waited
in semi-darkness
while Fr Pat lit the Paschal fire
behind the altar.

Together we watched
as altar servers lit candles
which, in turn,
lit other candles
so that gentle light spread
throughout the church.
And once our candles
had dispelled the darkness,
together we all waited
for readings of the Good News.

Our Easter Vigil Mass
was all about
waiting, anticipation, purpose
and expectancy.

Together, we waited in prayer.
Together, we spread the light
and together we listened
to the Good News
that Jesus is risen.

Halleluia! © Claire Murray, 30th March 2013

Disappointed

Posted on by
Reply

I am a child again,
sitting alone
at the foot of the stairs.
Jesus sits down beside me,
puts his arm around me
and I snuggle into him.
“Claire, what’s wrong?” Jesus asks.
“Things didn’t turn out yesterday
the way that I wanted.
I’m disappointed
and I feel
that I let people down.
They deserve better”, I reply.

We sit in silence
for a while.

“Tell me,” says Jesus,
“did you do your best?”
I nod.
“Did you genuinely try to do the will
Of Our Daddy?”
I nod.
“And has it taught you anything?”

I reply,
“It’s made me realise
that it’s important to slow down,
and to prepare practically
and prayerfully.”

Jesus replies,
“So long as you genuinely try
to do the will of Our Daddy,
I take your work,
complete with its flaws
and transform it
into something beautiful.
So don’t worry.
There were lessons
that you needed to learn.
You have learned them now.
Remember those lessons
and move on.
But for now, rest here for a while
with me.”

I snuggle into Jesus
and fall asleep.

© Claire Murray

Wee Bit Cheeky!

Posted on by
Reply

I did something yesterday
that was just a wee bit cheeky!
It was my birthday
and I called into St Malachy’s.
And as I sat there
I suddenly found myself thinking,
“I wonder if I could ask God
for a birthday present?”

I reasoned that
God seems to listen to saints
in a special way
on their feast days,
so maybe He might listen to me
in a special way
on my birthday!
Especially since this wasn’t just
an ordinary week,
this was our Parish Mission week!
I reckoned that maybe
the odds were stacked
in my favour!

You see, I long to sing for God
without fear
but for me trying to do that
is like reaching for the stars.
Most of the time
it just feels impossible
but on a few rare, precious occasions
I have managed to do it.

And so I prayed,
“Lord, can you help me
to sing without fear?
I don’t even know
what sort of help I need
I just know
that I need help!”

I left St Malachy’s
with this conviction
that singing without fear
was something that we (God and I)
really could achieve together.

That evening, at our Parish Mission
not only did I sing
but I actually sang up on the altar
where people could see me!
And I was only
a wee bit scared.

This evening I sang again at our Parish Mission
and I wasn’t afraid
and I thought,
“Wow! Imagine me not being afraid!
That’s my birthday present from God!
Isn’t He great?”

You see, God and I
make a fantastic team
and we can do amazing things
when we’re together.

© Claire Murray

Waterford Crystal

Posted on by
Reply

When I was growing up
somebody bought my Daddy
a set of six Waterford Crystal tumblers.

I loved them!
There was something grown-up about them,
even when they only held the ginger beer
that my Daddy bought in
specially for me.

Our Waterford Crystal tumblers
were used every Sunday.
My Mammy would insist
that these were not to be kept good.
These were glasses
that should be used
and enjoyed.

Tonight at Mass
I felt that My God was saying to me,
“Claire,
I’ve given you gifts –
use them,
enjoy them
and share them with others
joyfully!
Just like those Waterford Crystal tumblers,
your gifts were given to you
to be used!”

© Claire Murray

 

More to Life!

Posted on by
Reply

As I walked to work
my mind was full
of the many things
that I have to do.

I turned
and saw Divis Mountain
shrouded in snow
behind me
and I reminded myself,
“This is not life,
this is only work!”

I immediately sensed
that My God
had just burst out laughing
as he said,
“Oh, Claire,
that’s a really good start, you know!
But you do realise
that the entirety of your earthly life,
from start to finish,
is a mere drop in the ocean
compared to your spiritual life
which will last
for eternity?”

© Claire Murray

Advocate

Posted on by
Reply

On the day that I was crucified,
throngs of people crowded into Jerusalem.
The air was ripe with excitement
as word of my capture spread.
What would happen in Jerusalem today?
The death of a false prophet?
Or would God rescue his Chosen One
in a blaze of glory?

People were fascinated by me –
one day,
being carried joyfully on men’s shoulders
and a few days later
being forced to carry my own cross.

Before the crucifixion
came the mockery,
first of all, at the high priest’s house
and then at Herod’s palace.
Men almost fought,
so keen were they
to get the chance
to impress their friends
by making fun of me.

And yet, amid all of the jeering
I had two unlikely advocates
who had the courage
to speak up for me.

The first was Pilate,
a leader among the oppressors
of my people,
a man with a strong sense of justice
who argued my case persuasively
before crowds of Jews.
But faced with throngs of thousands,
all baying for my blood,
and threatening to riot
his courage crumbled
and eventually Pilate gave the order
for my execution.

My other advocate
was a thief,
himself in the throes of the agony
of crucifixion,
a man of remarkable insight
who looked upon my stripped,
raw, battered body
and saw me
for who I really am.

You see,
in the eyes of Pilate
I was an unfortunate victim
but in the eyes of the thief,
I was a King!

© Claire Murray

Power Cut

Posted on by
Reply

Snow, impassable roads
and a power cut
forced us to leave our home in Dundrod
for several days
and live instead
with my husband’s parents.

Paul’s parents extended to us
a warm welcome
in a cosy house which had plenty of
heating, electricity and food.
It also had
a Sacred Heart picture.

The Sacred Heart picture
depicted Jesus standing,
with his pierced hands outstretched,
and wearing a red gown
on which his Sacred Heart was displayed.
Jesus also wore a white robe
which was closed with a golden clasp.
The background of the picture
was beige and brown.

I didn’t like the picture
and for over twenty five years
I had managed quite happily
to ignore it.

But last night, as I prayed,
the Sacred Heart picture was reflected
in the mirror in front of me
and every time I opened my eyes
I saw this picture of Jesus.

His Sacred Heart appeared to glow
against the dark background
presented by the rest of the picture
and I had the impression
of the Sacred Heart of Jesus
offering to light up
the darkness in my life.

Because of the snow, impassable roads
and a power cut
I don’t believe that I’ll ever view
the Sacred Heart picture
in the same way again.