NeuroDivine

A lovely thing happened today. One of my hymns was sung in St Brigid’s Cathedral, written at the kind invitation of Rev Philip McKinley. There’s something very moving about hearing words that started out quietly on a page finally becoming part of the living prayer of the Church.

After the service, I had the chance to visit the birthplace of St Brigid with Philip and his father. Standing there on that ground, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of the history. It was a privilege to share that walk with them, connecting the ancient roots of the place to the music we’d just shared in the Cathedral.

You realize that a hymn is never truly finished when you write it; it only finds its real voice when a congregation gathers to sing it. To hear it in Kildare today was a gift, and I’m so grateful to Philip for the commission and to the community there for giving the words breath.

Moments like this remind me why I write in the first place—the hope that words might serve worship, and that poetry might help prayer find its way into the shared life of the Church.