This Boxing Day morning
as I go into our living room
to spend time in prayer
I pause for a few moments
before our wee crib.
I’m struck by how basic
a stable would have been,
providing the bare necessity of shelter
and absolutely nothing more.
Surely the holy family deserved
so much more than this?

And I feel guilty.
I had such plans
for all of the spiritual preparation
I was going to do
for Christmas
but I got so little of it done.
I feel that, spiritually,
my preparation for the Baby Jesus
has been very basic,
as basic, really, as that stable was.

Unexpectedly
I find myself thinking
about how I feel
when I go to visit someone
in their home.

I’m not really interested
in whether the house
is like something I would see
on the “Grand Designs” TV programme
or just a tiny bedsit.
I’m not really interested
in whether the house
is beautifully decorated
and furnished
and I’m not really interested
in whether the house is spick and span
or untidy.
Only one thing interests me –
the welcome that I receive.

And as I stand before our wee crib,
conscious of my many faults
and shortcomings
I feel a strong sense
of being so unprepared
to welcome the Baby Jesus
and yet so delighted
that He has come.
And I sense Jesus whisper to me,
“Claire,
I’m not really interested
in the fact that you weren’t prepared –
I’m just delighted
at the welcome I received from you
today.”

© Claire Murray, 26th December 2015

We were camping in Scotland
and had just endured
48 hours of non-stop rain.
We arrived, cold and wet
at a campsite in Stirling
late at night.

The campsite owner opened the door
and, in answer to our question,
told us the camping rate
for the night.
Our faces fell –
we were only students
and we couldn’t afford that.

The campsite owner’s wife
juked around the door
and a whispered conversation ensued.
“Let them sleep on the floor,”
whispered the wife.
“No, no!” hissed the campsite owner.

We left, downcast,
and cycled off into the darkness
in a town we didn’t know.

Tonight at St Agnes’ carol service
that memory resurfaced
when the children’s choir chorused,
“There isn’t any room
and you can’t stay here.
There isn’t any room for strangers!”

And for the first time in my life
I had an inkling
of the disappointment
that Mary and Joseph must have felt
when they were told
that there was no room at the inn.

Thank you, Lord,
for the children of St Agnes’ choir
who, tonight, brought life
to the Christmas story.

© Claire Murray, 20th December 2015

It’s only two weeks until Christmas
and yet the Christmas tree
and the decorations
are still in the roof-space,
many of the presents
have yet to be bought
and Christmas cards
remain unwritten.

We are so far behind!

And yet on this December Sunday morning
we rise early,
pack a picnic
and head for Tollymore,
putting all thoughts
of our substantial Christmas “To Do” list
firmly out of our heads.

Tollymore, when we arrive,
is unusually quiet
(most people are probably
busy catching up
on Christmas shopping).

Wandering along the paths and tracks
we enjoy the luxury
of precious family time together.
As we explore and chat
cares and worries slip
to the back of our minds
and we simply enjoy the moment.

Dandering along
I have a sense
that this family time
is part of my own preparation
for Christmas
and I am convinced
that My God will help me
to sort out
everything that I need to.
in good time.

But right here, right now,
with only two weeks to go to Christmas,
this is a day
for family.

© Claire Murray, 13th December 2015

Last night
Paul and I went to Exposition
at Hannahstown.

Up on the altar,
beside flickering candles,
the Blessed Sacrament was exposed.
In front of the altar,
beside flickering candles,
a simple crib was on display;
Mary and Joseph,
shepherds and sheep
all stood around
the Baby Jesus.
And from various window sills
around the chapel
three Wise Men journeyed
towards the Christ Child.

My eyes kept being drawn
to the tiny Baby Jesus
and I could sense My God urging me,
“Claire,
this is my beloved son.
Keep Him right at the centre
of your life.
Remember the miracle
of this Christmas scene,
this miracle of my love
and don’t let yourself get distracted!”

And in the soft light and silence
of a cold winter’s evening,
Almighty God gently sat
beside Paul and me
as I knelt in prayer,
fascinated by a simple crib
at Hannahstown.

© Claire Murray

At the Christmas Vigil Mass tonight
I sense My God whisper in my ear,
“Claire, believe!

“Believe in the young virgin
who gives birth!
Believe that this tiny, helpless baby
is my precious son!
Believe that I love you so much
that I sent my only son into your world
in poverty and vulnerability
to save you!

“Believe that through this tiny Baby Jesus
your deepest wounds can be healed!
Believe that through the grace
of this tiny Christ child
you will be able to forgive
even the greatest wrongs
done against you!

“Believe in the impossible
and in the improbable!
Believe in this Baby Jesus!”

And as I leave the Christmas Vigil Mass
I have a sense
that My God is right by my side,
desperately keen to help me
in all aspects of my life
if only I will give Him the chance …
… if only I will believe.

© Claire Murray

This evening I attended our parish carol service
and it was such a privilege to be there.

After we all sang Silent Night
I glanced up at the altar
and spied a miniature Mary and Joseph
kneeling and smiling shyly
on the altar steps.

In that instant
I was filled with a conviction
that these tiny children
were teaching me a vital lesson –
that Christmas is a time
for love, understanding,
peace and goodwill.

Troubles that had had been disturbing me
for some weeks
suddenly seemed trivial,
frivolous.
I felt a weight lift off my shoulders
and I experienced the welcome sense of coming home
after spending some time in a dark place
that had been alien to me.

The Holy Spirit proclaimed
the true message of Christmas
through the Primary One children
of Ballymacward Primary School
and I’m convinced that
in that grace-filled moment
heaven and earth met.

© Claire Murray

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