A sprained ankle
confines me to the house
for a couple of weeks.

Then,
the swelling subsides
and I discover that,
if I wear sturdy walking boots
and walk carefully,
I can go out for walks again –
Y A Y ! ! !

And so,
this week finds me …
riding on the train
into Belfast city centre
for coffee

… up Divis Mountain
where dozens upon dozens
of wee, tiny caterpillars
sporting Kilkenny GAA colours
(gold and black stripes)
wriggle and wiggle
with determination
all the way
across the narrow road.

… dandering along
the Greenway at Omeath
where brightly-coloured butterflies
poise,
daintily and beautifully,
on buddleias of pink, mauve
and purple.

… and finally
off to Drumkeeragh Forest
where the light scent
of freshly-sawn pine
wafts across our path.

Thank You, Lord,
for the gift of healing
and for the blessing
of being fit
to go out for walks again.

(May I never again
take this tremendous blessing
for granted!)

© Claire Murray, 30th July 2023

Sometimes I struggle
to deal with people
who have wronged me
or whom I distrust.
I know
that I should pray for them.
But what exactly
should I pray for?
A change of heart
in them?
A change of heart
in myself?

I find myself absolutely
stumped.

But tonight I watch
Mother Angelica
on YouTube
as she describes an encounter
with a taxi driver
in New York.

The taxi driver
was a young woman
who is clearly resentful
of her passenger.
She was grumpy
and would not engage
in conversation.
Mother Angelica took the hint
and stopped chatting.

After her short taxi ride
Mother Angelica paid her fare,
gave the driver a generous tip
and said, “God bless you!”

The taxi driver
with huge tears in her eyes replied,
“No. God bless you!”

This simple story
makes a deep impression on me.
Maybe
I’m overcomplicating things.
Maybe
my prayer for those people
who have wronged me
should simply be
three little words –
“God bless him/her!”

I think that, in future,
I’ll try that.
I’ll keep my prayer for those people
simple –
just like Mother Angelica did!

© Claire Murray, 13th July 2024

Today I met a lady
called Lilian
when I was shopping
in Lidl.

Lilian’s eyesight
is beginning to fail.
She has no feeling
in her feet
and three fingers
on her right hand
no longer work.
She relies on her mobility scooter
to get out and about.

And do you know
what Lilian was doing?
She was counting her blessings!

Blessing Number One:
the joy that Lilian gets
every Christmas and Easter
when she creates
dozens and dozens
of hampers
jam-packed with goodies.
These hampers generate money
for many charities.

Blessing Number Two:
Lilian has managed to save up
enough money
to go on the diocesan pilgrimage
to Lourdes
(for the eleventh time!)
Our Lady will shower her
with blessings
while volunteer doctors, nurses
and young people
will tend to her medical needs
and even provide entertainment
in the evenings.

Blessing Number Three:
The love of her mother
who raised nine children
and who taught, by example,
the importance of sharing
what little you have
with those who have nothing.

Blessing Number Four:
Lilian is grateful
that she has been able to forgive
the group of teenagers
who injured her three fingers.

Blessing Number Five:
Lilian enjoys the company
of her friends
Martina and Clare
who visit her regularly
and who help her out.

And that’s just the beginning
of Lilian’s list of blessings!

This evening
as I settle down to pray
I decide to list
some of my own blessings.

Blessing Number One:
Today I met Lilian,
a lady who is full to brim
and overflowing
with Christian hope
and love.
Truly inspirational!

Thank You, Lord!

© Claire Murray, 20th June 2024

One day, when I was wee,
Mammy found me sitting
at the foot of the stairs
doing absolutely nothing.
“What’s wrong, Claire?”
she asked.
“I’m sad”, came my doleful reply.
“Why are you sad?” asked Mammy.
“I don’t know”, I replied.
“I’m just sad”.

To this day,
I have absolutely no idea
what I felt sad about!

Over fifty years later
I feel just like my younger self.
I’m sad.

This time,
I know exactly
what I’m sad about
but, to be honest,
that’s not much consolation.

Yesterday
we saw a rat
around our bird feeder
and we have had
to take the decision
to stop feeding
all of our wee birds.

Bull finches and gold finches,
blue tits and long-tailed tits,
dunnocks and sparrows,
siskins and blackcaps.
These all flock to the feeder
in our garden,
bringing such joy to us
as we wash the dishes,
eat dinner
or drink our Elevenses
in the garden.

This morning
as I sit in prayer,
I try to figure out
a Catholic response
to losing our wee birds.

I remember something
that Mother Angelica said –
“Never let your suffering
go to waste!”
And I resolve
to do just that.
Every time I miss the antics
of our colourful wee birds,
I’ll offer that sadness
up to God.
(I’m convinced
that God will be able
to do something positive
with that sadness).

Also,
I give thanks to God
for our good neighbour
who will continue
to feed those wee birds
from his own garden,
so they won’t go hungry.

And as I finish my morning prayer
I’m already beginning to feel
a little less sad.

Isn’t God good?

© Claire Murray, 7th June 2024

Only last week
icy Arctic winds
blasted down our wee street,
icing roads
and frosting cars …
brrrr!!!

But today,
as we drive to Randalstown,
spring is definitely
in the air.

Shy snowdrops
nestle into hedges
and golden crocuses
stand boldly in swathes
as we pass.

In Randalstown Forest,
a herd of deer
watches us cautiously
from a distance
before leaping gracefully away
one … by … one –
all seventeen of them!

Finally,
as we picnic in the car park,
a wee, tiny goldcrest
hops about the shrub
right beside us,
inspecting every leaf and twig
(and there are many!)
for insects,
his flame-bright crest
flickering
through the branches.

Thank You, Lord,
for the gift
of a gentle, spring day.
A day of new life
poised
on the verge of splendour.
A day to make us smile
and to fill us with the promise
of warmer days ahead.

© Claire Murray, 28th January 2024

When I walk into our living room
Paul looks concerned.
“Did you drop anything?”
he asks.
I shake my head.
“I heard a sound
like a pepper rolling
and then falling”,
Paul explains.

A search of our kitchen
finds no run-away
fruit or veg
and everything is in order
in the cupboards.

Hmmmm … puzzling!

The next day
as I leave the bathroom
I hear the sound for myself –
Rumble, Rumble, Thud!
It sounds exactly
like a pepper rolling
and then falling.
But everything is in place
in the bathroom
and even in the attic
(I checked!)

By now,
I’m slightly concerned.
What is this mysterious
Rumble, Rumble, Thud
that follows me?
Having ruled out
natural causes,
I’m now considering
supernatural causes!

Do I need
to get the house blessed?
Do I need
to get myself blessed?

All slightly worrying!

The following day
I get up early
to practise music
for Mass.
As I sit at the kitchen table,
music in one hand
and tea in the other,
I hear a by now familiar sound –
Rumble, Rumble, Thud!

This time I know exactly
what the sound is.
It’s our two young crows
(named Clueless and Gormless)
who have been
hanging about the garden
all week.
Rumble, Rumble, Thud
is simply the sound
of one of them walking
and then the other one landing,
with a total lack of grace,
on our new flat roof.

Rumble, Rumble, Thud
has a totally natural cause
after all!

(But I bless the entire house
from top to bottom anyway –
you can never be too sure!)

© Claire Murray, 25th May , 2024

There’s something exciting
about Pentecost –
something unpredictable,
something exciting.

A sense that
anything is possible.
A sense that
the Holy Ghost might just
move in mysterious ways
to influence minds
so that the seemingly impossible
happens.

A day for the Holy Ghost,
so often forgotten,
to be given His place.
A day for us all
to be filled to the brim
with Christian hope.
A day for
the awesome power
of the Holy Ghost
to be unleashed.

And so,
during this Octave of Pentecost,
I read the Mass readings
every morning
with an sense of anticipation,
I pray
for a very special intention
and I silently wonder,
“What will the Holy Ghost do
during this season of Pentecost?”

© Claire Murray

It’s May.
Blue skies and warm days –
time to tidy up the garden!

Hoeing and digging,
brushing and raking,
weeding and planting.

Time to find new life
springing up
in surprising places –
hawthorns among hyacinths,
a tiny oak under a bluebell,
Jacob’s ladder clambering
on a stony bed.
Mysterious pale, bell-shaped flowers
have sprung-up
by our cherry tree
(what will they turn out to be?)

Plants potted, paths tidied
and cups of tea in the sun
as we watch birds feeding
and a wee mouse exploring
a flower bed.

Absolutely perfect –
thank You, Lord!

© Claire Murray, 8th May 2024

Something unusual happens today –
the rain stops!
And not only does the rain stop,
but the sun actually shines …
all … day … long!

So off we go to the Tow Path
at Distillery
for a walk.

It’s a glorious day
and the wildlife seems to be
enjoying the sun
every bit as much
as ourselves.

Bunnies in the long grass
and countless ladybirds
on golden dandelions.
A tiny goldcrest
flits
from twig to twig
above our heads
and robins watch curiously
as we pass.

Wee, tiny, gingerbread-coloured grebes
cry out their startling alarm
before disappearing
beneath the surface
of the Lagan.

Ducks snooze
on the river bank
and a shadow-black mink
basks lazily
on the fork of a fallen tree
by the water’s edge.

And all the while
the Lagan slips by,
its still waters reflecting
a cloudless blue sky.

A day to relax, unwind
and savour the sunshine.
Such a welcome break
from many weeks of rain.
Absolutely perfect –
thank You, Lord!

© Claire Murray, 24th April 2024

As I sit chatting to my friend, Ann,
over a cup of tea,
Ann says something
that intrigues me.
“Every day
I take a wee drink
of Holy Water.”

Hmmm …
this sounds new!

“I like to think of it”, continues Ann,
“as a little drink
for the soul.”

I lean in closer
to hear more.

“Always take it
in the name of The Trinity,”
instructs Ann.

This just makes
so much sense to me.

Then comes the clincher –
“You’ll never drink anything
more powerful!”

Ann sits back in her seat
and calmly drinks
her cup of tea
while I sit opposite her,
my head spinning!

I mention all of this
to Mammy
who is not in the least surprised.
“Oh, I know several people
in Derry,” says Mammy,
“who take Holy Water every day
with their medicine.”

And so I have begun to take
a wee drink of Holy Water
every day –
my very own little drink
for the soul.
I take it in the name of the Father
and of the Son
and of the Holy Ghost,
as Ann instructed.

(I keep it in the fridge
to keep it fresh!”)

© Claire Murray, 20th April, 2024