Category Archives: Cycling

Worth the Effort

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Sometimes a thought would pop
into my head,
“Imagine cycling down Hannahstown Hill!”
and my eyes would light up with delight.
But busy roads and lunatic drivers
made the dream seem impossible.

Today, I rose at dawn,
cycled a circuitous route
along quiet, country roads
and managed to arrive in safety
at the top of Hannahstown Hill.

I crouched down over my handle bars
and flew down the steep hill on my bike,
the wind on my face
forcing my eyes to water.
What a hill!
I laughed with joy,
exhilarated,
when I reached the bottom.

Excitement over,
a leisurely journey home began.
At Hannahstown,
I saw rabbits in fields,
a sparrow hawk on a roof top.

At Divis
I watched an auburn fox race
through an expanse of rushes
and psychedelic pink moths
dance on the ground in front of me.

And while I enjoyed an unbroken view of the Mournes,
majestic in the early morning sun,
I felt My God say to me,
“Claire,
follow your dreams
in your own way
and at your own pace.
It’s worth the effort!”

© Claire Murray

Scattered

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As a teenager I dismounted my bike
on a calm summer’s day
down by the shore
between Burt and Inch Island.

The sun was reflected on the still water,
forming a perfect, white circle,
almost like a giant Communion host.
A slight breeze blew up
and brushed against the surface of the water,
gently shattering the sun’s reflection,
scattering it into thousands of pieces
across the rippling surface.
The sun’s reflection was gone.

As an adult, life happens each day,
busy and demanding,
pulling me
in a thousand different directions.
Like the sun’s reflection in the water at Burt,
I too feel scattered, spread too thin,
distractedly trying to be
in two places at once!
I feel drained.

In prayer, I still myself.
I try to calm the waters of my life,
which are sometimes gently rippling,
other times stormy.
And as peace slowly comes,
all of those tiny fragments of me
gradually piece themselves together
until I am at last made whole again,
at peace
in the presence of My God.

And at Burt, on calm summer days,
the wind dies down,
the water is still
and for a brief while
the sun is reflected again,
whole,
against the dark water.

(c) Claire Murray

Look, No Hands!

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Guess what I did today!
I cycled down leafy,
tree-lined Malone Park
with no hands!
Imagine!
Aren’t I great?
I’d been trying to do that for years
and had never been able to do it.

Why was today different
from all of the other days
when I tried and failed?
I don’t know.
All I know is that today
it felt right
and it felt like fun!

I can’t help feeling
that other goals in my life
that usually feel impossible
really aren’t impossible after all.
All I need to do
is to be patient,
trust in My God
and to keep on trying.

© Claire Murray

Unspoken Question

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Lord,

Yesterday,
for the first time in months,
I got to cycle past the Two Balls
that straddle the West Link.

As I approached these massive spheres
I felt a question begin to surface
in my mind
and I sensed you laughing,
calling out in a sing-song voice,
“Claire, I know
what you’re going to ask!”
I laughed and you continued,
“And the answer’s “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

I cycled on, delighted
at your joyful response
to my unspoken question
which had been,
“Lord,
is it possible for me
to not only sing without fear,
but to actually enjoy doing it?”

Lord,
you are just brimming over
with possibilities!

© Claire Murray

You’re a Big Girl Now!

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I have a sense of myself
as a small girl
in my own garden
learning how to ride
my big two wheeler bike.
This takes concentration.
Most of the time
my cycling is fine now,
but occasionally I still wobble.

My God, My Daddy has been teaching me.
He stands in the middle of the garden
looking on in delight
at the progress I have made.

Eventually I finish my laps of the garden
and sit down beside My Daddy in the sun.
He has something to say.

“Claire, you’re a big girl now
and you know how to ride your bike.
It’s time for you now
to leave the safety of the garden.
Cycling’s not easy, you know.
You’ll encounter hills
which will be great fun to go down
but really difficult to climb.
When that happens,
you just have to remember
to keep pedalling.”

“The other important thing to remember
is that no matter how big you grow
you’ll still be my wee girl
and I’ll still be your Daddy,
looking out for you.”

My Daddy opens the gate
and I cycle out,
a little wobbly, a little scared
but determined
because cycling is something
that I really want to do.

© Claire Murray

Traffic Cones

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Traffic cones block the pavement
as I cycle home from work
on a dark, cold, blowy winter’s evening
after a long day spent
teaching.
I tut with annoyance
as I am forced to slow right down
to negotiate the obstacles
in my path.
Then, I cycle on.

Across the road I see a small boy,
about ten years old,
skipping along on his way home
from the corner shop.
Traffic cones block his pavement too.
He runs at them,
leap-frogging each one in turn,
then continues, still skipping, on his way.

I shake my head and laugh.
Where I saw only obstacles,
this wee boy saw challenges, opportunities
and I think to myself,
“That wee boy could certainly teach me
a thing or two!”

© Claire Murray

Everything Is Possible!

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As I cycled to work each day
I watched with interest
as the construction men and engineers
built a huge ball
out of industrial sized pieces of steel,
just like Mecanno.

When it was complete
they began work on a second ball,
even bigger than the first.
I watched it grow.

Pól Óg read the newspaper
and informed me
that the smaller ball would be built
inside the massive ball.
I doubted that.

The smaller ball was left untouched
while the huge ball grew taller and taller,
rounder and rounder.
Over the months I watched
and decided that Pól Óg was mistaken;
there was no way
that the smaller ball could possibly go
inside the large one.

As I cycled to work one morning
I made a mental note
that the big ball was near completion.
I was disappointed for Pól Óg.

But as I turned the corner on the Westlink
on my way home again that same day
I saw something that made me stare.
A huge crane was over beside the two balls
and suspended from it
was the smaller ball!

I watched in amazement
as the smaller ball was lowered
inside the bigger ball.
I laughed with joy.

Then I heard Jesus declaring, laughing,
“Didn’t I tell you
that nothing is impossible?
You just have to think
outside the box!”

© Claire Murray

Learning to Ride My Bike

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Lord,

I caught a glimpse of you
as I drove through the tree tunnel
on my way home.

I was about eight years old,
with black hair in pig tails
wearing a light summer dress
and a yellow cardigan,
perched, white-faced,
on a big two wheeler bike.

You were running along behind me,
hand lightly gripping the saddle,
ready to steady me should I start to topple,
ready to let go when I would be confident enough.
You were so serious as you ran,
determined that no harm should come to me!

And as I watched the two of us,
I just had this sense
that this is how you are helping me to sing
all on my own.

I was overwhelmed.

(c) Claire Murray