A letter to Our Lady
Margaret-Mary Flynn
After a difficult year we approach Christmas with hope in our hearts and trust in you, Mother of God.
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The air that we breathe
Sr Mary Tinney RSM
In spring we deepen our association with the element of air, and of wind, and its invitation to open ourselves to a God who flows in directions that we cannot predict.
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Think hard, live well
Mar
Thinking – really thinking – requires commitment, but the rewards are there for those who are prepared to put in the hard work.
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The winter of our positive intent
Sr Mary Tinney RSM. 04 May 2020
The darkness and bleakness of winter is no match for our belief in the healing love of God.
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Filling in the outline
Margaret-Mary Flynn. 04 May 2020
Classic texts speak to us from throughout the ages, sharing pain, sorrow and joy. They remind us we’re not alone.
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A season for listening
Sr Mary Tinney rsm. 02 March 2020
Autumn lends itself to deep listening. It is a season to take time out to really hear what is going on.
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Trees, spirituality and all that
Sr Mary Tinney RSM
Our view of our common home and our relationship to God are closely linked.
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It's grand being a grandparent
Margaret-Mary Flynn
Grandparenting is not always easy, but it is always rewarding.
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Peace I leave you, my peace I give you
Margaret-Mary Flynn. 01 March 2018
As Autumn approaches, we welcome the coolness of mornings, and softer light of evenings. It is a time of shifting perspectives, as our Lenten journey continues towards Easter. We pray for transformed hearts, 'to give and not to count the cost.'
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Peace is hand-crafted
Margaret-Mary Flynn. 01 March 2018
My grandson and his grandfather are in the shed. Heads together, small hands and large search through the box of wooden offcuts, pulling out random pieces and deciding on suitability. 'We're making a car, Grandma,' the little boy announces as I arrive.
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A golden and fragrant glow
Margaret-Mary Flynn. 10 March 2017
Every year at this time, a case of clingstone peaches would arrive at the back door of my grandma’s house. She would set up a table and a couple of wooden kitchen chairs in the shade of the willow tree, furnished with bowls and paring knives, and rows of the tall cylindrical glass preserving jars that she used in her Fowler’s Vacola Preserving outfit, her pride and joy
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The secret ministry of frost
Margaret-Mary Flynn. 10 March 2017
Coleridge’s poem Frost at Midnight is one of my favourite poems, and I love the turning of the seasons that brings me to my battered old paperback each year to rediscover it
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