Tonight,
as I settle down
to spend some time in prayer
all I can think of
is one thing –
traffic.

Cars, buses, lorries,
day and night –
the traffic never stops passing
on the motorway
near our home.

But I’ve become so used
to this background noise
that I rarely notice it.

Tonight I wonder
is that how it is with you, Lord?
You are with me at all times
surrounding me
and supporting me
day and night.
But how often
do I take the time
to notice?

© Claire Murray, 26th January 2020

It’s winter-time in Banagher.
Cold, crisp mountain air
freezes our breath.
Cloudless, blue skies overhead,
iced puddles under foot
and melting icicles that drip
from frosted banks.

It’s so peaceful here –
no traffic,
no other people,
no breeze
and not even any bird song!

Still waters of the lake
mirror the lake and a primrose sky –
breath-taking!
I have never seen Banagher
look more beautiful!

Then, picnicking on stone steps
up at the dam,
cold hands gladly clasping
mugs of hot soup
and dunking thick slices
of buttery Belfast bap
while, in the distance,
the slopes of Mullaghmore glow softly
in pinks and oranges
as they bathe
in a winter sunset.

Bliss!

Thank you, Lord,
for this mountain walk
at Banagher
that filled our wee family
with a sense of wonder
on a winter’s morning –
truly awesome!

© Claire Murray

Lord,
our youngest daughter, Niamh,
is 22 today.
It’s hard to believe
that so much time has gone by
since Niamh was born!

I find myself wondering
what you were doing
when you were 22?

Were you working with Joseph
as a joiner?
(And did you swear
under your breath
when you accidentally hit your thumb
with a hammer?)

Did your Mammy and Joseph
have a wee chat with you
to explain to you
who your real father was?
Or were you trying
to figure out yourself
who you were
and what your role was?

Did you spend
lots of time in prayer
so that people wondered
whether you might become
a rabbi?

For thirty years
you lived a life
that was mostly under-wraps.
Sometimes I wonder
what your life was like
before you burst onto the scene
of public life?

Today I wonder
what you were like
when you were only
a youthful 22
(like our Niamh)?

© Claire Murray, 2019

The River Lagan
is being cleared of debris.
Mud and tree trunks,
lamp posts and black bins
are all scooped out of the Lagan
and shovelled into
many, many barges.

I’ve been watching the progress,
fascinated.
I’ve seen tonnes of mud
being shovelled onto barges
and I’ve seen full barges replaced
by empty barges.
but I have never actually seen
any of the barges move.

The barges don’t appear
to have an engine –
How can they possibly move?

Then one day
I find the answer.
A wee, tiny,
totally insignificant-looking
orange boat
positions itself carefully
beside the huge barge
and then drags it
upstream.
Amazing to see –
like a mouse dragging an elephant!

So that’s how they do it!

Seeing this reminds me
of those times in my life
when I find myself
in a seemingly impossible situation,
unsure of what to do,
unable to act.
Each time
My God appears
ever so quietly by my side
and then gently but firmly
leads me
where I need to go
(just like an invisible tug boat!)

© Claire Murray, 15th Dec 2019

It’s 1987
and I’m my first year
at Queen’s University.
I’m far, far from home
and, unfortunately,
by not getting a place
in the university halls of residence
I’ve become separated
from school friends.

One day I meet these friends
in the students’ union.
“Guess what we did last night?”
they demand excitedly
and I listen keenly
to hear about
their latest antics.
“We booked tickets
to see Chris de Burgh
in Dublin!” they exclaim.

I tell them that I’m delighted,
of course,
and congratulate them
on their wonderful plan.

But secretly
I’m absolutely devastated.
I’m a huge fan
of Chris de Burgh
and would have dearly loved
to be going to the concert as well
but I wasn’t around
when my friends hatched their plan
and so I got left out –
a simple case of
out of sight, out of mind.

Now, over thirty years later
my husband, Paul, surprises me one day
with a wonderful present –
a pair of tickets
to see Chris de Burgh
in Belfast!

I go to the concert with Paul
and we watch, fascinated,
as Chris de Burgh whips the crowd
up into a frenzy
during almost three hours of song.

Wow – Such a night!

A night of Chris de Burgh music
and for me,
a night for healing
a very old wound
inflicted through thoughtlessness
and healed through love.

© Claire Murray, 27th October 2019

It’s a cold, wet night
in November
and I’m in the chapel
at prayer.
A small section of the church
is bathed in light
where we are all gathered

Everywhere else
is in darkness.

My mind is drawn
to some recent hurts
that are still very raw.
These hurts
frequently come to mind
and I’m conscious
that I seem to dwell on them.

I’m aware
that I’m bearing grudges
and, worse than that,
I feel that I’m nursing them.
These grudges are not going away
and, if anything,
they’re getting stronger.

In the peace of the church
I sense an invitation
to leave the darkness
of those grudges
and choose light instead –
the light of Christ
where forgiveness lies.

I make my choice
and settle down in prayer.

A few minutes later
I leave the church
and step out into the darkness
to return home.
But this darkness doesn’t bother me
because I now feel
light at heart.

© Claire Murray, 14th Nov 2019