Driving along wee country roads
on my way to visit
a friend.

No other cars to be seen
and darkness all around.

White lines slip into view
one-by-one
as my car lights-up
the road before me.

A very real sense
that, as I drive in the darkness,
God is here in this car,
right beside me.

I am not alone
and I feel very safe.

Thank You, Lord,
for the grace of Your presence
on my journey tonight –
this has been, very much,
a real “I am with you always”-trip.

A tiny glimpse
into the way that You watch over me
every single day.

Thank You, Lord!!!

© Claire Murray, 23rd October 2023

Have you ever heard someone
who is really dour
described in this way –
“You’d think that a smile
would crack her face!”?

Well, for a week,
that was me!
I had a cold-sore on my lip
that just wouldn’t
go away.

I couldn’t really smile
and could only give
a wee, tiny, polite, sort of a smile –
I couldn’t just
break into a grin.

I had to use
my own special cup
and my own special towel
so that I wouldn’t infect
anyone else.

I felt like such a germ-ball.
Worse than that,
a germ-ball who couldn’t smile!

At last
my cold-sore disappeared
and I can now smile again –
YEE-HAA!

Thank You, Lord,
for the gift
of being able to smile again
(especially when I want
to laugh out loud
at one of my husband’s
outrageous comments!)

© Claire Murray, 28th October 2023

We live in dark, dark times
but sometimes we see a light
shining in the darkness.
Just a wee, tiny light,
all on its own –
but don’t they say
that a candle in the dark
can be seen
from miles away,
shining every bit as brightly
as a star in the sky?

Thank You, Lord,
for the men and women of courage
who light up
the darkness of these times.
They’ll never know
how much hope and comfort
their light brings
to those who find themselves
enveloped by the darkness.

© Claire Murray, 7th October 2023

As I pray this morning
about forgiveness
the words of a song
pop into my head.

“I get knocked down
but I get up again.
You’re never going
to keep my down!”

I struggle with forgiveness,
you see.
I mean to forgive
and I believe that I have forgiven.
Then,
somebody says something
and in that instant
a memory of that incident
fills my mind
and I find,
to my disappointment,
that the resentment
remains.

This can happen
days, weeks, months
or even decades
after the event.

I can’t speak for others
but I feel that, in my case,
forgiveness is a decision.
Not a decision
that I get to make
once and for all,
but one that I have to make
repeatedly
every single time
that a resentful memory
comes to mind.

Lord,
give me the grace
to make the decision to forgive
as many times
as it takes
so that I too may say,
just like the song,
“I get knocked
but I get up again!”

© Claire Murray, 10th November 2022

Once upon a time
when I was a student
I went on retreat
at my old school,
Thornhill College.
There, I heard the song
“Here I am, Lord”
for the very first time.

This song blew my mind.

Later that evening
I went for a walk
through wasteland
that stretched along
the banks of the Foyle.
As I perched on a boulder
overlooking the huge expanse
of the river
and the recently-constructed
Foyle Bridge,
the song “Here I am, Lord”
was playing constantly
in my head.

This is the song
of a broken-hearted God
who has been rejected by His people
and who yearns
for their return.
In the song
God asks the question,
“Who will bear my light to them?
Whom shall I send?”

And sitting there on a rock,
gazing across the Foyle
as dusk fell,
I sang the song aloud.
That song touched my soul
and my heart responded
to that call,
silently echoing the chorus
of the song –
“Here I am, Lord!”

Today, I find myself
along that same stretch
of the Foyle.
It has been transformed
over the years
from a wasteland
into a wildlife sanctuary.
And I find myself
singing the song aloud again.

So much has happened
in almost forty years.
I completed my studies,
married the man I love,
raised a family
and taught for many years
before finally retiring.

All those years ago
I responded to God’s call,
singing, “Here I am, Lord!”
And God, in turn,
has responded
by walking at my side
every single day
since then.

I feel that I have been called
to walk hand in hand
with God –
isn’t that wonderful?
And isn’t God amazing?

© Claire Murray, 7th September 2023

Many, many years ago
my Daddy’s big brother, Patsy,
died of TB.
He was only 21.

Patsy had tremendous faith.

One day
Patsy went for a walk
and was away much longer
than expected.

On his return
his anxious Mammy asked,
“Where were you, son?”
“I called into Pennyburn chapel
to make a visit,”
explained Patsy,
“and I didn’t like to leave
until someone else came in.
I didn’t want to leave Jesus
all alone.”

Something similar
happened to me today.
I called into Pennyburn chapel
with Daddy
to get some holy water.
I smiled to myself
when I entered the chapel
because the Blessed Sacrament
was exposed on the altar.
Then I noticed that,
apart from Daddy and me,
the chapel was deserted.

Jesus had been in here
on the altar
all alone.

My heart sank at the thought.

As I genuflected on my way out,
I made a silent promise,
“I’ll be back soon.
I can’t leave you here
all alone.”

So I drove Daddy home
and ten minutes later
I was back in Pennyburn chapel.

To my delight
I saw half a dozen people
kneeling in prayer.

Jesus wasn’t all alone
after all!

But, you know,
I’m glad I returned
because I couldn’t really
leave Jesus all alone –
now could I?

© Claire Murray, 6th September 2023