ache
For chronic illness, embodiment, and the quiet violence of pain.
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Chosen and Kept: The Sacred Liturgy of Presence and Care
In the quiet hum of the dialysis unit, where machines pulse with steady rhythms and time is measured in millilitres, Declan and Marcus find a sanctuary. Their story is not one of mere survival but of abiding joy, friendship, and the sacred dance of queer kinship amidst constraint. Dialysis life imposes limits—fluid restrictions, dietary rules, Continue reading
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Sorrow. Mercy. Peace.
One star. One silence. One prayer. On the fourth day of Christmas, we remember the Holy Innocents — children lost to violence, grief held in the heart of the season. This hymn is a quiet offering: a song for mercy, healing, and the fragile hope that still flickers in the dark. Continue reading
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Shift. Grace. Arrival.
A quiet reflection for a day shifted out of rhythm—when plans move, the centre wavers, and yet presence meets you exactly where you are. In the midst of a rearranged moment, a promise settles close. Continue reading
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Mercy. Foundation. Grace.
A week’s end reflection on prayer, stability, and sustaining compassion… Continue reading
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Ambulance. Care. Trust.
During dialysis this morning I experienced chest pain and difficulty breathing. I’ve been placed on oxygen and dialysis was stopped so I can be checked out. An ambulance has been called. I ask for your prayers and a little extra grace today. Continue reading
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Seeds. Scars. Solidarity.
In the grain of wheat, in the dialysis chair, in the scars of memory — prayer becomes fruit. Continue reading
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Waking. Walking. Watching.
Isaiah 2:1–5 | Psalm 122 | Romans 13:11–14 | Matthew 24:36–44 “I joyed when to the house of God, Go up, they said to me.” The old cadence of the Scottish Psalter still rings oddly in my ear. Its word order feels unfamiliar, almost comic, yet it lingers—memorable because it was passed on by David Continue reading
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Known. Warned. Sent.
A Friday reflection where Psalm, Prophet, and Gospel weave together—reminding us we are searched, cautioned, and commissioned, even in the waiting chair. Continue reading
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Train. Threshold. Grace.
Sixteen years of World AIDS Days. One early train from Monasterevin. As Dublin prepares to light up in red, I journey once more to Beaumont — a quiet threshold of care and grace. This reflection weaves together memory, movement, and the promise of Monday’s gathering. Step into the rhythm… Continue reading
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Resilience. Ritual. Road.
The week ahead is not just endured but offered — a mosaic of care and quiet courage. Continue reading
NeuroDivine 