It’s the season of Easter,
a time of great hope
for Christians
and I see this hope reflected
as I’m out and about.

I see this hope in our garden
where a spikey lupin
and a dappled, heart-shaped flower
have sprouted tiny fragments of root
after a flower bed
was completely dug-over
in autumn.
Two truly triumphant survivors
that make me smile!

I see this hope
on an abandoned building site.
Rusty scaffolding here
has recently had a “make-over”
as the colourful Montana climber
clambered all over it,
festooning it in pale pink flowers.
Such beauty on a building site –
who would have thought?

I see this hope
at Banagher Glen
where a section of oak
which has been completely severed
from its roots,
is now sprouting tiny oak branches
as it lies alongside a steep, grassy bank
where water trickles by
and the afternoon sun gently shines.
Wonderful!

As I carry this Easter hope
in my heart,
I’m deeply aware
of Reshma and Dylan
who are currently undergoing
medical treatment.
For Reshma and her family
as well as for Dylan and Eimear,
the last few months have been
one … long … gruelling …
o – r – d – e – a – l.

Walking through Banagher
I place Reshma and her family
along with Dylan and Eimear
in the loving care
of God.
I pray that they, too,
may be filled with Easter hope.

And in a tree nearby,
a cuckoo calls.

© Claire Murray, 10th May, 2025

In his book The Screwtape Letters,
CS Lewis talks about
“the Great Presence” –
Almighty God present here
in the midst of us,
especially at those times
when we are at prayer.

This is very much in my mind
when I call into the chapel
on Holy Saturday.
There’s something appalling
about the chapel today.

The tabernacle doors
lie wide open,
forming gaping hole
up in the sanctuary.
Above the tabernacle
the massive crucifix
is shrouded in purple,
hidden from view.

No sign of Jesus
on the crucifix.
No sign of Jesus
in the tabernacle.
The red sanctuary lamp
has been extinguished.
No need to genuflect today
because Jesus isn’t here.

This is the Great Absence.

A terrible thing
for a Catholic to experience
and yet essential –
emptiness, void,
something or someone
missing.

A few days later
I return to the chapel.
I look up at the crucifix – Jesus.
I look down at the tabernacle – Jesus.
I glance over at the red light – it’s lit.

Jesus is back.
God is home.
We have the Great Presence
once more.

All is as it should be.
I feel at peace
and I feel truly grateful.

I’m truly blessed!

© Claire Murray, 23rd April 2025

Many, many moons ago,
when I was about ten
my sister Brenda and I
rose at dawn
one Easter Sunday morning.
We were really excited
because we were hoping to see the sun
dancing in the sky
as Mammy had told us.

A short time later,
two very disappointed wee girls
came in from the garden
and Mammy suggested
Easter eggs for breakfast
to cheer ourselves up
(it worked!)

This Easter Sunday
I rise early
for a much more practical reason –
I’ve loads of music to learn
for Easter Sunday Mass.
As I walk sleepily
into the cold kitchen
I see the back window
filled with the brightly-coloured
peach and blue display
of an Easter Sunday sunrise –
a wonderful, glowing celebration
of Our Risen Lord!

My heart lifts and I sense
that all of the disappointment
of my childhood Easter Sunday morning
has been swept away
in an instant.

And as I settle down
(with a cup of tea, of course!)
to learn my music
against the wonderful backdrop
of this glorious sunrise,
my heart is filled
with the joy of Easter.

© Claire Murray, Easter 2024

An old man walks into the chip shop
at Carlingford.
“How’s the form?”
asks the girl behind the counter.
“I’m on top of the world!”
replies the old man
before adding,
“and sure, why wouldn’t I be?”

Wow!
I feel blown-away
by the positivity of this old man
and I can’t help but wonder
at the reason
for this man’s response.

Okay,
it feels like a summer’s day
even though it’s only April
and that has put a smile
on everyone’s face!
But could there be more to it
than that?

Could it be
that this old man
is filled with the joy of Easter,
a feast that we all celebrated
ten days ago?
That day when we celebrated
that Jesus rose from the dead,
giving to each of us
the opportunity of going to Heaven
if we choose to follow Him.

And so it is that,
standing in a chip shop in Carlingford,
I find myself pondering
the hope of joy of Easter.
And do you know what?
I feel on top of the world!

© Claire Murray, 26th April 2022

All around the world
Coronavirus has meant
that church doors remained locked
during Lent.

But don’t they say
that when one door closes
another one opens?

This has certainly been the case
as I have explored a new way
of practising my faith –
on the Internet!

I’ve been able to attend
Sunday morning Mass
in a virtual sort of a way
here, in Belfast.
And, at the start of Holy Week,
daily Mass from Letterkenny
and Lisnaskea.

Then there were the Easter ceremonies –
wow – so much choice!

Last Supper Mass
from Newtowncunningham,
Tenebrae from Tallaght,
Stations of the Cross from Newry
then back to Newtowncunningham
for Taizé Prayer around the Cross –
an extra-special treat!
Finally,
Mass on Easter Sunday morning
from St Bernard’s in Newtownabbey –
a Mass specially for children
that was so simple
and joyful!

While I have really missed
attending the Holy Week ceremonies
in my own parish of St Agnes,
I have to admit that, this Lent,
I’ve been absolutely
spoilt for choice!

Thank you, Lord,
for opening this absolutely enormous
virtual door
when church doors
have had to close
to keep us all safe.

© Claire Murray, 12th April 2020

It’s Holy Thursday
and we’re in Valencia.
We trudge
through a heavy shower of rain
to the Last Supper Mass
where we understand
very few of the words
cos we don’t speak Spanish!

But one word in particular
manages to filter through
the language barrier –
amor (love).

No matter what language is used
to say the Mass
and no matter what the occasion is
Mass is always
a celebration of God’s love
for us
and at Communion I sense God whisper
that He is sending much love
in this Mass.

You see,
I have been keeping
two people in particular
in my prayers
throughout this Mass –
Paul and Michelle.

I sense
that God is sending much love
to Paul
and to Michelle
and I sense
that God will give to Paul
and to Michelle
all of the strength
that they need.

Mass ends
and as we walk out the chapel door
into the pouring rain
I step lightly
feeling reassured
that God is sending us much love
as well as much rain!

© Claire Murray, 18th April 2019