A Heart and a Half

Posted on 31 July, 2013 by Claire Murray

When I ask my friend Josie for a favour
she replies,
“Of course I’ll do that, Claire,
with a heart and a half!”
and I can hear the smile in her voice
as she speaks.

This morning I have a sense
that I am called to live my life every day
with a heart and a half.

I am called to do the myriad of daily tasks
in the humdrum of my everyday life
for the glory of My God –
preparing for work,
doing the shopping,
cooking the dinner,
hanging out the washing,
emptying bins
and even feeding the cat!

Today I feel challenged
to embrace all aspects
of my normal life
and to view even the most mundane activity
as a special task that I am doing
to the best of my ability,
willingly and joyfully
for My God,
in just the same way as Josie
when she turns up to help me out
with a heart and a half
and with a smile!

(1 Corinthians, 10:31)

Parable of the Sower

Posted on 26 July, 2013 by Claire Murray

Today at Mass
we heard the parable of the sower.

In the story
some of the seed fell
on thorny ground.
The seed took root
and initially it grew
but in the end
thorns choked the young plant
which withered
and died.

I found myself thinking
how blessed I am
to have the support
of so many people
as I seek to find My God
in my ordinary, everyday life.

My husband, my children
and close friends
could very easily discourage me
from my pursuit of God
and be like the thorns
in the parable of the sower.
Instead, they choose to offer to me
support
and words of encouragement
as I make my faith journey.

Not only has My God sown in me
the seed of his Word
but he has also surrounded me
with wonderful helpmates
who support me
as I try to share My God with others
through my writings
and through song
so that the seed of God’s word
may bear fruit in my life.

I am truly blessed!

(Matthew 13: 1-9)

The Parable of the Sower (Matthew 13: 1-9)

Posted on 26 July, 2013 by Claire Murray

Today at Mass
we heard the parable of the sower.

In the story
some of the seed fell
on thorny ground.
The seed took root
and initially it grew
but in the end
thorns choked the young plant
which withered
and died.

I found myself thinking
how blessed I am
to have the support
of so many people
as I seek to find My God
in my ordinary, everyday life.

I am truly blessed!

Hidden

Posted on 19 July, 2013 by Claire Murray

Lord,
as I sit at prayer this evening
in our wee holiday house
in Carraigart
I see an expanse of sea and land
stretched out before me.

Silhouetted against a green sky
I see the hills of Ross Goill
and of Ards Peninsula.
In the distance
lies dark Horn Head.
Central to the scene
is the silvery shimmer of the waters
of Sheep Haven Bay.
Orange street lights and car headlights
twinkle at me
all around.

Yet, at the same time last night
I could only see two things:
a small fence framed by rushes
at the foot of our garden
and mist
which had crept in
from the Atlantic
and had effectively hidden from sight
this entire, beautiful landscape.

Lord,
sometimes I experience a strong sense
of your love, delight, playfulness,
peace and comfort
in my life.
At other times
you feel distant.
When that happens, Lord,
remind me
that you have not left me
but that for a while
you have simply been hidden from my sight
by the mists
of my spiritual life
and that when these mists lift again,
as they will,
you will reveal yourself once more to me
with all of the beauty, peace and wonder
of a summer’s night
at Carraigart.

Glimpse of God

Posted on 19 July, 2013 by Claire Murray

Lord,
I caught a glimpse of you today
as I walked with Paul
along the coastal path
at Ards Friary.

I saw Paul and myself as children
dandering along,
hand in hand,
enjoying the summer sun.

But we were not alone.

You walked alongside us,
tunic billowing in the sea breeze.
Nobody spoke;
there was no need.
We were all simply content
to enjoy each other’s company
and Paul and I were enveloped
in love and protection
that came from you.

I had a sense
that you are very close
to Paul and to me
as we journey together through life
and that in this uncertain world
Paul and I are in very safe hands.

Precious Family Time

Posted on 18 July, 2013 by Claire Murray

Lord,
we’ve only two days
of our holiday left,
only two more days
of precious family time together
before we return
to the hustle and bustle
of ordinary daily family life
in Dundrod.
I find myself wondering
about your precious family time
when you were wee.

Was it time spent with Joseph
in the workshop,
feeling so grown up and important
as you swept sawdust
and long, golden wood shavings into piles?
Then eating a meal together afterwards
and swelling with pride
as Joseph mentioned to your Mammy
what a great help you had been
and how he couldn’t have done
all of that work
without you
and then adding
that he could see in you
the makings of a fine, young man
while your Mammy looked at you
with love and smiles
in her brown eyes?

A small family,
working hard
together,
sharing a meal
together,
sitting in companionable silence
together
in a tiny house
full of family
and full of love.
Precious family time!

Bad News

Posted on 9 July, 2013 by Claire Murray

Lord,
this afternoon the oncologist told Danny
that Danny’s cancer has returned
and that nothing further can be done.
The oncologist shook Danny’s hand,
wished him good luck
and said, “Goodbye”.

We are devastated.

This evening
I enter the chapel at Carraigart
and kneel in the presence
of the Blessed Sacrament.
By the altar
I see a huge, wooden cross.
As I look at you, Lord,
stretched out on that cross
I realise that there is no need for me
to try to describe suffering
to you.
You know all about
the terror of facing what must be.
You know all about
the feeling of helplessness
as you watch the suffering
of those closest to you.
Without me having to tell you,
you know exactly
how Danny, Dolores and Paul feel
right now
in their own personal
Agony in the Garden.

In my mind’s eye
I see myself once more
as your wee girl
and I clamber up
onto your knee,
snuggling in close to you.
“Look after Danny“, I whisper.
“Help Danny to deal with this
and when the time comes,
don’t let him be afraid.”

I feel your arms tighten around me
and I hear you say,
“Claire,
I’ll not leave Danny’s side,
not even for one second.
I’ll be with Danny
and Dolores
and Paul
every step of the way.
I have loved Danny
since before the creation of the world.
I’ll look after Danny for you.
Trust me.”

And in the peace and silence
of the chapel at Carraigart
I kneel
and I find comfort
in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament.

I Wouldn’t Call the King My Cousin

Posted on 3 July, 2013 by Claire Murray

My Granny was really old.
She was born in 1908
and spent part of her childhood
on a farm at Fahan, in Donegal.
My Granny loved living there.

My Granny had a wee saying
that she used to use
when she was feeling on top of the world.
She used to say,
“I wouldn’t call the King my cousin!”
It seemed to mean,
“I’m so happy in myself
right at this minute
that nothing could make me feel happier!”

Today was the first day
of my summer break from work
and I headed out for a cycle
to Tullyrusk Bridge.
I sat by the river’s edge,
and watched the river
as it raced and rushed,
cascaded and churned,
tumbling past
on its way to Lough Neagh.

On the way home
I perched, Peter Pan-like,
on Ballydonaghy Bridge,
tilting my face up
to enjoy the precious summer sun
and revelling
in my new-found freedom.

Suddenly,
a thought popped into my head,
“I wouldn’t call the King my cousin!”

I thought of My Granny
and how she had loved
her countryside childhood.
I smiled to think that,
despite being separated by a generation
and by death,
there’s something of My Granny in me.

And, do you know what?
I wouldn’t call the King my cousin!

I Wouldn’t Call the King My Cousin!

Posted on 3 July, 2013 by Claire Murray

My Granny was really old.
She was born in 1908
and spent part of her childhood
on a farm at Fahan, in Donegal.
My Granny loved living there.

On the way home
I perched, Peter Pan-like,
on Ballydonaghy Bridge,
tilting my face up
to enjoy the precious summer sun
and revelling
in my new-found freedom.

Suddenly,
a thought popped into my head,
“I wouldn’t call the King my cousin!”

I thought of My Granny
and how she had loved
her countryside childhood.
I smiled to think that,
despite being separated by a generation
and by death,
there’s something of My Granny in me.

And, do you know what?
I wouldn’t call the King my cousin!

God’s Ways

Posted on 3 July, 2013 by Claire Murray

Lord,
when I look back
over the last few years
I can see quite clearly
that you have brought me
on an extraordinary journey
and I think,
“Wow!”

At times
that journey has been
challenging and difficult.
It has been circuitous
and convoluted.
By no stretch of the imagination
can my journey be described
as straight-forward, clear
or easy.
But it has been amazing
and intensely rewarding
and the company along the way
has been excellent!

Remind me of this, Lord,
the next time that I doubt you
and consider your planning
to be lousy!

Remind me
that your ways are not our ways
and that even though at times
it can be difficult to see
where my life is going,
all of it is part
of an incredible journey.

Your ways are not our ways, Lord;
they’re much, much better!

In Conversation With God

Spiritual Reflections by Claire Murray

Monthly Archives: July 2013

A Heart and a Half

Parable of the Sower

The Parable of the Sower (Matthew 13: 1-9)

Hidden

Glimpse of God

Precious Family Time

Bad News

I Wouldn’t Call the King My Cousin

I Wouldn’t Call the King My Cousin!

God’s Ways