Tufty the dog snoozes
in a corner of the living room.
Suddenly
a squeak is heard
from one of Tufty’s doggy toys.
Tufty jumps up immediately
and goes haring around the house
in pursuit of the sound.

Distracting Tufty
is so easy –
one squeak from her favourite doggy toy
and Tufty drops everything
to come running.

Sometimes I feel a bit like Tufty
when I settle down to pray.
I get so easily distracted.
One stray thought
and my attention is hopelessly gone.
I sincerely hope
that My God pays more attention to me
that I pay to Him at times!

Lord,
bless me now
as I settle down to pray.
Help me
to still my heart and my mind
so that I may fix my gaze
on you
and not be distracted
like Tufty is
when she hears her squeaky toy.

© Claire Murray, 22nd November 2017

A thin strip of ground
stretches along the foot path
in front of the car wash.
It’s just a couple of inches wide
and looks for all the world
as if it’s just stones
and gravel.

And yet there’s life here.

Several hardy plants
have taken root –
a few nettles
and a tiny sycamore tree!

Some work man has lined up
a series of traffic cones
along this narrow strip.
And guess what has popped its head
out of one of the traffic cones?

A nettle!

There it stands –
about two inches of nettle
nodding in the breeze
and quivering in the sunlight
on this sunny May evening.

Wow!
This wee nettle
is surely one of nature’s gladiators
as it battles for life
against all odds!

Thank you, Lord,
for this wee nettle,
this slightly-straggly beacon of hope
reminding me
to keep fighting
during those times
when life unexpectedly
throws a spanner in the works.

© Claire Murray, 15th May 2019

I nip out to the garage
for just a wee minute
but find that I have to sprint
back into the house
to dodge an unexpected shower of rain.

Just as I reach the back door
a faint fragrance fills the air
and I pause at the door
sniffing the air
just like a Bisto kid
as I try to find the source
of that light perfume.
After a moment I find it –
it’s the rowan tree
beside our back door!

Tomorrow is Vocation Sunday
and sometimes I wonder
what I am called to do.
I am called to be
many things in life –
a wife, a mother, a teacher.
But I feel called
to do more than that –
I feel called
to spread a little bit of God
through writings
and through song.
These actions are tiny
and they often strike me
as quirky.
But I can’t help it –
it’s what I feel called to do.

I wonder whether,
through my writing and singing
I am called to bring
a wee flavour of God
into ordinary, everyday life?
Not overpowering –
just a gentle reminder
of our extraordinary God
in the midst of the ordinary?
A reminder that is light,
just like the fragrance
of the rowan blossom
at our back door.

© Claire Murray, 11th May 2019

Yesterday a boy and a girl
walked past me.
They looked like students
and they were chatting.
“I was just trying
to make a connection …”
said the girl
and then they were gone.

This evening, at vigil Mass,
I know how that girl feels.
Today is the first weekend of Lent
and I sense
that I have drifted somewhat
in my relationship
with My God.

I see Lent as an opportunity
to draw closer to My God,
to reconnect with Him.
During Mass
I hear a beautiful psalm sung.
It’s called “Turn to Me”
and contains the line,
“I call your name.”

Hearing these words
I feel reassured, encouraged
and welcome.
I have a sense that,
during this Lent,
while I am trying
to connect with My God,
My God is busily trying
to reconnect with me.

©  Claire Murray, 4th March 2017

Today is the feast day of St Brigid
and it’s bitterly cold in Belfast.
I slip into St Anne’s Church of Ireland Cathedral
and walk through the semi-darkness
to the Chapel of Unity.
Stepping into the tiny chapel
I feel bathed in light and warmth
and welcome.

John and Mark, two of the ministers,
greet me with a smile
and our morning service begins.
After reading the Gospel
Mark speaks to us
about St Brigid.
He tells us about Brigid’s dedication
to drawing together
different spiritual traditions
in ancient Ireland –
paganism and Christianity.

As our service continues
I’m struck by the prayers,
so similar to those that I hear at Mass.
I feel very much at home
and I have a strong sense of how much
we all have in common here,
a sense of all being part
of the family of God.

I have a sense that, this morning,
in the Chapel of Unity,
Catholic and Church of Ireland unite.

Isn’t that a wonderful way
to celebrate the feast of St Brigid?

© Claire Murray, 1st February 2017

At Friday morning Mass
I usually sing.
I hope that, through my singing,
God will touch the hearts
of those present
bringing comfort and reassurance,
peace and love,
a sense of being tenderly carried,
a sense of being safe
in the hands of My God.

Arriving at Mass this morning
I feel unsettled
and despite my best efforts
these feelings persist
throughout Mass.

At Communion time
I sense that today, as I sing,
My God is speaking to me,
calming me,
reassuring me,
stilling my soul
and filling me with His peace.

Isn’t that funny –
how I sang
so that My God might comfort others
and instead
My God comforted me?

© Claire Murray, 1st July 2016

All good things
must come to an end,
or so they say.

This evening we went
to the vigil Mass
for the feast of the Epiphany.

On one hand
I rejoice in this –
exotic kings,
robed in splendour,
surrounded in mystery
and steeped in wisdom,
entering a cow shed
to bow down
before a Baby Jesus,
born in poverty.
I delight to see My Lord,
the Baby Jesus,
given his rightful place.

On the other hand
I feel saddened
because this signifies the end
of the Christmas season.
My heart sinks
at the thought of an end
to my beloved Christmas carols.
An end to silent nights, mangers,
shepherds and kings.
And end to stars and angels,
lambs and donkeys.
And end to songs
about drummer boys
and a beautiful first time mother
nursing her baby.

Lord,
your wonderful gift of music
has touched my heart
and stirred my soul
this Christmas season
but deep inside I know
that all good things
must come to an end –
even this lovely Christmas.

© Claire Murray, 5th January 2016

As my summer break
draws to a close
I find myself pondering
the Biblical expression,
“There is a time for everything”
and I think to myself,
“There is a time to rest
and a time to work.”

Summer has been truly magical.

A time for lunch
and relaxing afternoons
with parents
and with friends.

A time for long, leisurely cycles
along quiet country roads
and the shores of Lough Neagh.

A time for a family holiday
exploring streets, rivers and cafés
in historic Bordeaux.

A time to cycle
along the Tow Path
to morning Mass at Derryvolgie.

A time to savour
the amazing display of colour
in the cottage garden flowers
of Botanic Garden.

A time to watch out
for kingfishers and herons,
moorhen chicks and cygnets,
buzzards and bunnies.

And now,
as my summer break
draws to a close,
I have a strong sense
that there is a place for everything –
rest and work
and I give thanks to My God
for both.

© Claire Murray, 19th August 2015

On a clear autumn evening
I stride out of work
and head straight towards the sunset
head held high
and smiling,
delighted to be able to enjoy
the luxury of a brisk walk.

Tonight,
my walk takes me along the West Link,
which is busy with traffic
at the beginning of rush-hour
in Belfast.

As I look around
cars and lorries rush past
hurrying to get home.
Everyone seems to be in such a hurry
in this busy city!

My attention is drawn away
from the rushing traffic beside me
and up towards the beauty
of a gradual autumn sunset
in which a peach sky
dotted with pink clouds
forms a perfect backdrop,
silhouetting the Balls on the Falls.

As I approach,
these huge mesh balls
appear to gradually
increase in size
until I stand close by,
marvelling
at these massive, intricate structures,
built by man
and marvelling also
at a beautiful autumn sunset
painted by My God.

This sight is so calming!

Sometimes
the works of art created by man
and the works of art created by My God
complement each other
so beautifully!

© Claire Murray, 3rd November 2014