December 9th

“Steadfast love and faithfulness will meet;
    righteousness and peace will kiss each other.
Faithfulness will spring up from the ground,
    and righteousness will look down from the sky.” Psalm 85:10-11

sometimes, they are like
young lovers, who cannot see
anyone else around them, as
every moment is taken up
in trying to discover every facet
of the other who attracts them so.
sometimes, they are like
those couples who have known
each other so long, and so well,
they can finish the sentences
the beloved starts.
sometimes, they are like
that pair of folks we see each day,
walking hand in hand, making
sure that the other does not fall,
those vows they spoke so long ago
shining through every white hair,
every wrinkle on the face, every
creak and crack in old bones.
but in every time,
they are the constants of our lives,
modeling the gift and the grace
and the grit of your peace and mercy,
your faithfulness and love,
which came in that thin season
of hope so long ago, and comes
once again, in the soft companionship
we need in these days.

(c) 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman 

December 8th

“’Look! He is coming with the clouds;
   every eye will see him,’” Revelation 1:7a

we lie on our backs
gazing at the clouds,
hoping we can be the first
to catch a glimpse of you
starting your gentle glide to us,
but perhaps
we should be noticing
the person sitting on the steps
with the weather-worn and
stained-from-rejection military jacket,
hoping someone might buy
him a meal or a room for the night.
or watch the teenagers who refuse
to let the powerful use their mates
as scapegoats to justify their fears,
their prejudices, their self-righteous
piety which makes them faith superheroes.
we spend so much time
longing to see you as
a star falling out of the sky,
that we cannot see you
among us, even if you stuck out
your grace and tripped us.


© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

December 7th

“The LORD has sworn and will not change his mind,” Psalm 110:4a

we are people who change
our minds as often as we change channels,
and whose promises are as glib
as those pitches to buy this or that.
but you, God of Advent,
you are as steadfast as the stars
which glitter in the winter night
and the sun which rises faithfully.
every chance you get,
you renew those vows planted
so long ago in our now-frozen hearts—
that mercy will never be taken back.
justice will be born, even in places
where we rip it out every day.
grace will slip into human skin
and hope will walk our dusty roads
even if they lead to death.
so, ever so uncertain despite
your repeated whispers of love,
we wait,
while you never lose faith
you never falter
you never turn back,
even as we try our darndest
to keep losing our way.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

December 6th

“And have mercy on some who are wavering;” Jude 22

there are more of us
with clay feet than those
who are so firmly planted
on the Way.
there are more of us
who easily let faith slip
through our fingers than
folks who hold it so easily
in the palm of their hands.
there are more of us
whose promises flicker like
candles in a motionless breeze
than all who can light the way
in the middle of a hurricane.
there are more of us
longing to see a lamp
in the window like a lighthouse
for those who are high risk for
being shipwrecked on the rocks
than those whose clear sight
allows them to walk in the shadows
without any fear or doubt.
so have mercy, we pray,
have mercy,
for we have met the waverers
and they are us.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

December 5th

”May mercy, peace, and love be yours in abundance.” Jude 2

while the days shorten,
the world slips closer to shadows
and we join in the hustle and bustle
of these days more than we do hope,
come—
in the gentle hands of old friends
who warm our wintery hearts
with nothing more than kindness.
come—
in that simple act of mercy
as someone who took a risk on us
tells us that the only thanks they need
is for us to do the same
for someone else down the road.
come—
in that silent pause in our worries
which allow us to hear the beating
of that heart which is always with us.
come—
in that love which does not need
fancy paper and gold ribbons but
is covered in the dust from
walking by our side over the
rough sidewalks of our days.
come—
as Advent dawns each day
with bright hope on the horizon
and slips over the edge of night
as our candles twinkle soft hallelujahs.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

December 4th

“Trust in him at all times, O people;
    pour out your heart before him;
    God is a refuge for us. Selah” Psalm 62:8

though we are not sure
what it means exactly,
we could use a little more
selah
in our lives, in these days.
that simple pause in the middle
of a day, a conversation, a life
which gives us a chance
to take a breath of grace,
that whisper in the ear
which brings us to a halt
so we can notice the dog
rolling in the snow in pure delight,
the little child and kitten
sitting side by side staring
out the window at a mystery
only they can see,
that just out of the corner
of our eyes glimpse of your
Beloved Community as
as neighbors and strangers
come together to thaw
the icy stares the powerful
turn towards those they despise.
we could use a little more
selah
in our lives, in these days,
Composer of Grace.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

December 3rd

"But do not ignore this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like one day.” 2 Peter 3:8

no matter how big the spaces
our calendars always are full,
our clocks, especially internal,
tick louder the closer we come
to the end of a day, week, month,
our candles burn lower even
as the nights grow longer.
but you, Crafter of time,
simply yawn, and snap,
a thousand years pass.
remind us that you are not tied
to our seconds/minutes/hours,
but you spread compassion
across generations until it becomes
the way of life for all.
and while we squirm like children
who can’t wait to unwrap hope,
may we learn to trust
that you are never in a hurry,
never late, never finished.
in this in-between time
may we prove more ready
than restless,
and more eager to put
worry out in the bin
to make space for wonder.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

December 2nd

“They do not know how to do right, says the LORD,
   those who store up violence and robbery in their strongholds.” Amos 3:10

this day, this night, this moment
we light a simple candle trying
to illumine a prophet’s annoying words,
because the world (we) forget
to do all those right things.
our arms are so full of brightly wrapped
packages of gifts, fears, doubts
that we cannot offer a hand
to the forgotten,
and we are too weary
to search for the lost
yet, God slips in on padded grace,
not to judge us, but to invite—
the bitter to learn
the language of welcome
those with clenched hearts
to open them to the lonely,
all the scrooges to reach
into their pockets and empty them.
come, Babe born into uncertainty,
so in this moment, this night, this day
that simple flame will warm us
until justice becomes as familiar
to us as our beloved,
as we relearn what it means
to always choose to do what is right.

(c) 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

December 1st

“As for me, I am poor and needy,
     but the Lord takes thought for me.
You are my help and my deliverer;
     do not delay, O my God.” Psalm 40:17

in this season of accumulation
so many hands are empty,
so many hearts like puzzles which
miss pieces which won’t be found,
we clutch at hope,
worried that, like a candle,
it will go out from life’s bitter wind.
yet—
when the world looks past us,
you see us
in checkout lines
with near empty baskets,
in the silence of the exam room,
in the loneliness sitting at our feet
like a stray kitten refusing
to get off our front porch.
so come,
not to those banquet rooms
of the privileged who lack nothing,
but to those forgotten places
who have nothing to offer
but an empty manger.
as we wait,
staring into our bleak existence,
hoping that you will indeed
remember us and come running
with grace in your arms.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

November 30th

Thus says the LORD:
For three transgressions of Israel,
and for four, I will not revoke the punishment;
because they sell the righteous for silver,
and the needy for a pair of sandals —
they who trample the head of the poor into the dust of the earth,
and push the afflicted out of the way;
(Amos 2:6-7a)

you come,
not for the soft carols we sing,
but because you hear the whispers
of cities under rocket attacks.
you come,
not to be warmed by our candles,
but because of the voices filled
with the bitter chill of cruelty.
you come,
because you love too fiercely
to let things stay as they are,
while we would avoid the forgotten,
we would ignore the cries of innocence,
we would shrug at injustice.
so come,
even for us who are longing for
new carols from the angels
not the rumblings of God
trying to wake us up.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

November 29th

“He will again have compassion upon us;
     he will tread our iniquities under foot.
You will cast all our sins
     into the depths of the sea.” Micah 7:19

yes,
you remember every tiny sparrow
struggling to use its wings,
and while you could choose
to remember all the stony words
we spoke in the past, you gather them up,
crushing them to become paths
which lead others to your home.
you place your hands around
our fists clenched tight with
all our foolish choices and acts,
whispering the soft syllables of grace
until we simply let go.
then you take us down to the shoreline
where you take each mistake
and skip them across the crystal sea,
laughing until they sink beneath
the waves of your compassion,
and as you place your hand
on our slumping shoulders,
you point to the sun
coming over the horizon,
and we splash barefoot
into your love which,
like waves of the ocean,
never stops coming back.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

November 28th

"Always be ready to make your defense to anyone who demands from you an accounting for the hope that is in you;” 1 Peter 3:15b

it is not like fumbling
for the key, as our arms
are full of doubt, trying to unlock
a door we never encountered before.
hope is that secret whispered
to us so long ago, we forget
that grace has grit,
compassion has breath,
love refuses to be put
in a time out in the corner.
so, whenever folks want
to put us in the dock,
waiting for us to come up
all sorts of shaky alibis,
may we not boast
about multi-campuses
or winning strategies
or sold-out seminars,
but simply whisper in
a soft voice of faith
of how lost we were
until Someone showed us
the way home, and
maybe a person on the jury,
or in the back of the room,
or sitting on the bench
begins to feel
the first stirring of that hope
which has been inside them
all along.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

November 27th

"Therefore wait for me, says the LORD, 

    for the day when I arise as a witness.” Zephaniah 3:8a

wait—
just wait,

in that quavering silence between
our shattering and God’s breath
moving upon us like mist
over a lake in the morning.
wait—
just wait,
as God gathers up all the pieces
of this puzzle called life
we have scattered in our frustration.
wait—
just wait,
for God will speak
in the frayed voices of the forgotten,
will point to the evidence
of all the pain we have caused
in those tears cupped in God’s hands.
wait—
just wait,
not in fear but in that hope
that God makes all things new,
even our waiting.

© 2025 Thom M. Shumabn

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

November 26th

“Rid yourselves, therefore, of all malice, and all guile, insincerity, envy, and all slander.” 1 Peter 2:1

it’s okay—
just let it slip through your fingers
like a rock too heavy to carry anymore,
that false front you keep showing.
pack it all up, sit on the suitcase
if you have to smoosh all that
anger, bitterness, cruelty in order
to make it fit in, and then just
drop it off at the left luggage area.
it’s okay—
you don’t need to let it keep
tagging after you like some
shadow which refuses to disappear
on those terrible, dreich days,
for God simply wants us to learn
how to walk through the world
unburdened
unencumbered
unafraid,
discovering how much more room
there is in you now for grace
to bloom as it should.

(c) 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

November 25th

“The LORD is good,
      a stronghold in a day of trouble;
   he protects those who take refuge in him,” Nahum 1:7

we expect goodness to arrive
like a parade with sirens at the start,
but God is good in those
tender mercies which slip
into our souls when we least expect.
and it’s not a panic room
which God offers to us, but
a hand reaching out to hold us
when our faith begins to wobble,
as well as a silent space where
we have a chance to breathe again.
when troubles come (and they do),
hammering us like a boxer in a ring
or rain lashing windows in a storm—
God remembers us, and
in that steadfast remembering,
does not turn away, but wraps
our trembling edges with grace
and teaches us, with patience,
to take that first, oh so hesitant
step of faith once again.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

November 24th

“They scoff and speak with malice;
   loftily they threaten oppression.
They set their mouths against heaven,
   and their tongues range over the earth.” Psalm 73:8-9

strutting around as if the very sky
was woven from their bragging,
they let their words drift like
unwanted whispers into
the ears of the weary.
pushing past the humble and the hurting,
their tongues tiptoe down alleys
where mercy never goes.
yet,
uncertain and insignificant,
we will try to stand, letting
the noise of their certainty
pass us like a chill breeze,
and in the silence which follows,
we are reminded that no boasting
can deafen your whisper of hope,
no shadow casting pride
can overcome your light of love.
so, slowly, steadily, faithfully,
we will draw in deep breaths of grace,
taking assurance in your promise
that, however loud and enticing,
every lie will crumble like dust
and every arrogant voice
will fall silent before your Word.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

November 23rd

”Welcome one another, therefore, just as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God.” Romans 15:7

it is not that hard.
take some of the oil
of mercy and lubricate
those rusty hinges
of our hearts so
that they open easily.
grab a broom, and sweep off
all those fears which litter
the sidewalks which lead
to the front porch of our souls
so that strangers won’t trip.
take a skein of compassion
and another of hope, and knit
a soft shawl to drape around
those too used to shivering
from all the cold shoulders
offered to them by the world.
hospitality doesn’t have to be perfect,
after all, Jesus stood there,
dust covering his callused feet,
the wind tangling his hair,
waving over that ragtag bunch
of weary and wandering pilgrims
which included us, inviting us
to rest and breathe in
the grace of God.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

November 22nd

“The Spirit and the bride say, ‘Come.’
   And let everyone who hears say, ‘Come.’
   And let everyone who is thirsty come.
   Let anyone who wishes take the water of life as a gift.” Revelation 22:17

come,
you who have heard only
insults all your life,
who have listened to loved ones
say you are worthless,
all who have had your fill
of anger, hate, and bitterness.
come,
all whose hearts have cracked
because of love’s balm being withheld,
you whose soul is parched
because no one shared cups of grace,
anyone who has known decades of drought
from the refreshing rivers of joy being dammed up.
come,
the broken, the young, the forgotten
the weary, the slumped over, the footsore pilgrims
the rough sleepers, the tough-as-nails weepers.
come,
all of God’s beloved
who never tasted love before,
come.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

November 21st

 "Take care that you do not despise one of these little ones; for, I tell you, in heaven their angels continually see the face of my Father in heaven." Matthew 18:10

when we park
in the space
reserved for the
disabled (we'll
only be acoupleofminutes).
when we join
in the jibes
about 'slow' Jane
at work.
when we power up
our windows
when the homeless
veteran
looks at our car.
when we want
the borders closed
out of nothing
more than fear.
angels
wipe away
the tears
streaming down
God's face.

© Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

November 20th

“Its gates will never be shut by day — and there will be no night there.” Revelation 21:25

if we were the architects,
the engineers, the city planners,
the new City would have just one entrance,
the borders patrolled by icy-eyed folks,
maybe even a moat with some critters
that are always looking for snacks.
but you,
in your foolish naivete,
craft a front door for the broken
as well as a wicket for the braggarts,
a revolving door for the knuckleheads
and a gate for newbies in faith ,
a kissing gate for all the lovers
and a pet door for all rainbow bridge crossers,
a turnstile for all the muggles
and a tardis for all who love time,
an ingress, a portal, a hatch,
for everyone we would try to keep out
and none of them ever shut or locked,
and the light always left on.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-M. Shuman

November 19th

“Those who trust in the LORD are like Mount Zion,
    which cannot be moved, but abides forever.” Psalm 125:1

when we choose to trust
in God, we become
like trees providing shade
to the weary pilgrims around us,
dropping leaves for children
to gather up in big piles
to then jump in with delight,
to be a sanctuary for all
chased by fears and worries.
when we choose to trust God,
we find our roots sinking deep
into the good earth of grace,
we lift our heads to the sky
to drink deeply of joy’s sweet nectar,
we stretch out our arms
so we can share hope
with all those around us.
when we choose to trust,
we move into that heart
which has room for all of us.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

November 18th

“Death will be no more;
    mourning and crying and pain will be no more,
    for the first things have passed away.” Revelation 21:4

when the last shadow stops following us,
the ache in the back releases it’s grip,
then—
soft as that first morning’s breath—
a hush will fall, and those quiet promises
we had forgotten will embrace us.
no waxed jacket of sorrow,
no quicksand of grief in our path,
those tears which grew heavier
each long night will be held
in hands which know our every grief.
fractured hearts will be mended,
the bitter wine of despair
turned into the water of life,
and our weary world will let out a breath
as those things which were a priority
disappear.
and where
light will never fade,
joy will teach us to slow dance,
and hope will hum the tune,
we will learn the music of God’s forever,
as we are cradled in that peace
we only ever caught a glimpse of
out of the corner of our eyes
before death slunk away in defeat.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

November 15th

“O give thanks to the LORD, for he is good,
     for his steadfast love endures forever.” Psalm 118:29

when grief is that chill which creeps
into our bones on the hottest day or
those tears which seep into our souls
like raindrops in warped window frames,
there comes a piece of paper
carried by the Spirit, on which God
writes simply, ‘I love you.”
when grief is a pebble in our shoes
which numbs us with every step
or a boulder heavier than
Atlas bore in that old story,
the psalmist nudges us to remember
the love which outlasts
the loneliest of days.
when grief gifts us with
a silence too large to hear
or an absence which is more
than missing that soft breath
which calmed us in the night,
God’s love is that gentle hand
on our shoulders which
simply stays with us,
whether or not we ever become
whole again.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

November 14th

"He said to them, “But who do you say that I am?” Matthew 16:15

it seems ingrained in us—
expecting mountain shaking
thunder clapping experiences,
which means we miss
the quiet tea-is-brewing
and the cat is purring
and the day hasn’t placed demands
on us moments, when Jesus
puts an arm around us and
with breath as soft at a feather,
asks the-word question which
catches us unawares and then
undoes all those answers we
had jotted down after last time.
yet, Jesus being Jesus, asks,
not to trick or trap or trouble us
but to unlock that door
we have closed over our heart,
so we can remember that
it’s not an answer or a creed
we need to keep close
but simply that shaky hope
that if we take the risk
(especially in these times)
to call him our Christ,
he will still say we are his
beloved.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

November 13th

“’to her it has been granted to
be clothed
with fine linen, bright and
pure’ --
for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints.”
Revelation 19:8

you take the bolt
of cloth off the shelf
and as you slowly roll it out,
you notice the way
in which the threads
have been carefully woven,
that hope we spoke of
in times of fear,
the joy we showered upon
those who were parched
from its drought,
justice for others
that became as dear to us
as the very breath we took
the love we gladly gave away
and grace we wrapped
like shawls for others
and, as you take the shears
handed to you by the Spirit,
you gradually cut out the pattern
which will be a perfect fit
for all chose to live in
your Beloved Community.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

November 12th

“Offer right sacrifices
   and put your trust in the Lord.” Psalm 4:5

in the sharing of mercy
to someone standing
at the intersection of
Hopelessness and Hunger,
in the quiet conversation
on the bus with the adolescent
wondering how honest they
could be with their parents,
in the painful willingness
to see through our privilege
so we might recognize
the realities which the forgotten
face every single day of their lives,
may we show that we
are willing to trust that
the gifts you give us
have far greater purpose
than just improving our lives.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

November 11th

 “She said, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.”” Matthew 15:27

some with mournful eyes,
some with weary hearts,
some with hope beating within,
we wait under the table—
hands wide open,
hearts chipped like old bowls—
watching to see if
bits of mercy might fall,
if just a morsel of love
might be brushed off laps.
but you kneel down,
not with cold leftovers,
but with bread made warm
by the Spirit’s breath,
grace with the rich aroma
of home, where the door
stands open to welcome us.
in this world where fences
are put up around abundance,
you whisper,
there is room for everyone
and dash by pinch,
we are offered seats
at that table with no corners,
not because we beg
but because you love.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

November 10th

“The idols of the nations are silver and gold,
     the work of human hands.” Psalm 135:15

if only . . .
if only our false god
were made from metals
which could be melted
into wedding rings or candle holders,
or from stone which could
be crushed for sidewalks
or wood which could become
kindling for fires on winter nights
but now, they are not made
from our fingers and hands
but from our fears and prejudices
in fake tans and bitter words,
in calls to rough justice and cruelty,
in uniforms of athletes who think
their skills on playing fields
excuse personal misconduct,
in religious types who would
turn Jesus into some sort
of action figure or superhero
who would rather hunt down 

enemies than gathering them
into the Beloved Community of God.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

November 8th

“Bless the LORD, O my soul.
   O LORD my God, you are very great.” Psalm 104:1

with hands that sign a welcome
and those which shape mud pies.
with feet which stand with the oppressed.
and those which dance under the stars.
with arms which lift little ones to shoulders
and those which carry coffins to gravesides.
with legs which ache from the weariness of years
and those which run to raise money.
with eyes which look for hope on the horizon
and those which see beauty behind wrinkles.
with ears that hear grace in silence
and those that listen to heartache.
with lips that whistle the dog home
and those that kiss the dying goodbye.
with hearts that refuse to hate
and with souls which cradle the forgotten,
we bless you, our God,
we bless you.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

November 7th

Jesus said to them, "They need not go away; you give them something to eat." Matthew 14:16

when
it seems so easy
to throw obscene amounts
of money at those who already
have far more than they could
ever spend in 20 lifetimes
but claim we cannot find
any funds to be able
to feed those whose situations
are beyond heartbreaking.
when we turn out the lights
and close the drapes
hoping that the needy
will think no one is home.
when we put on the outdoor sign
“sorry, but empathy is toxic’
so that everyone will get the message,
remind us
that there is no need
you
we
i
cannot fill.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

November 6th

“For you do not give me up to Sheol,
   or let your faithful one see the Pit.” Psalm 16:10

yes, the shadows lengthen
seeming to hide the end of the path.
yes, the alleluias seem to echo
in some distant corner of my soul,
yet, your lullaby of resurrection
slips through the cracks in that stone
i have rolled into place to bury my doubts.
Keeper of those promises
we have either forgotten or
no longer think we can trust,
you will not let the dust of death
cover our souls with silence,
for your grace has a longer reach
than the deepest grave
and your tenacious love
refuses to let go of us—
even when we release our grip.
so, continue to whisper life
into the shadows as they lengthen
once more.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

November 5th

“The great dragon was thrown down, that ancient serpent, who is called the Devil and Satan, the deceiver of the whole world — he was thrown down to the earth, and his angels were thrown down with him.” Revelation 12:9

that serpent who whispers
in our ears, “God says you
are not good enough”
will be tossed into the bin
by little kids who choose
the forgotten to be on their team.
that deceiver who breathes fire
into all the dinging notifications,
trying to sell cruelty as empathy
and fear as true patriotism
will be hurled out of its cave
by all the women laboring hope.
for every time we choose love,
every time we lift the fallen,
every time we welcome the refugee,
every time we forgive without being asked
that old liar takes a fall.
friends,
let us live as those
who have seen the dragon
take a pratfall,
and heard soft laughter
of heaven rising to the sky.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

November 4th

“These things I remember,
     as I pour out my soul:” Psalm 42:4

may i never forget
you always finding me
no matter how good
i think i am at hide-and-seek,
waking up in the middle
of the night afraid
to open my eyes
until i hear your gentle
breathing from the corner,
your stubbornness in never
giving up on me, however
persistent i am in turning
my back on you,
your leaning over to listen
every time i cry out to you
even if it is the same words
every time.
if i ever forget,
have mercy
and never forget me.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

November 3rd

“The voice of the LORD
   shakes the wilderness;
the LORD shakes the
   wilderness of Kadesh. Psalm 29:8

when the soft sobs
of hungry children
crying themselves to sleep
interrupt our midnight snacking,
when the whispered memories
of those who are once again
playing childhood games
with friends no longer
on this side of grace
follow us down the corridors
of retirement communities,
when the longings
of immigrant families
cause cracks in
judgmental hearts,
your voice, O God,
shatters the wilderness
of our apathy.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

 

November 2nd

“Instead, strive for his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.” Luke 12:31

in dog walkers
and street hawkers,
in rough sleepers
and mythological innkeepers.
in tax collectors watching
from tree branches,
and neighborhood kids
cleaning up yards after storms.
in all
who put up with us
and those who nudge us,
in the ones who chase
after you with abandon
and folks who drag
their doubts like luggage.
in the grandfather
who lives just around the corner
and the nana sheltering
neighborhood kids in a
war-torn town,
we find your
Beloved Community
in all the wrong places
we never thought to visit
and in all the wrong people
we never deem worthy.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

November 1st

“He told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened.” Matthew 13:33

it is like seeing a video of my Mom,
as you slip into that faded apron,
sprinkle grace on the tabletop
as well as your hands
and gently begin to knead
your Beloved Community into
the dense dough of our lives.
it is there where we often don’t notice—
corners of a kitchen
curled up like a sleepy cat,
the booth echoing with laughter
of a group of aging girlfriends,
in the soft touch of a weary nurse.
there’s no DJ amped music,
no ‘breaking news’ dings,
no shouts of OMG!
just that slow proofing
as hope begins to ferment,
as justice begins to take shape,
as the texture of love swells
into that bread broken
so all might be fed new life.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 31st

All the paths of the LORD are
   steadfast love and
   faithfulness, Psalm 25:10a

using hesed
as your base material,
you lay out
your paving stones
of
grace
hope
wonder
joy
peace
inclusion
reconciliation,

screeding them together
with the gritty
particles of your
heart,
shaping
a path
to your Beloved Community.

(c) Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 30th

“Return, O my soul, to your
      rest,
for the LORD has dealt
      bountifully with you. Psalm 116:7”

noticing the empty
space next to you,
you put your feet
into the cold slippers,
and wrap yourself
in the frayed shawl;
finding me before
the mullioned
window, staring
out into life's
abyss,
you take me
by the hand, and
lead me back
to bed, cuddling
with me until I
fall asleep in your
embrace.

© Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 29th

“’Then the disciples came and asked him, “Why do you speak to them in parables?’” Matthew 13:10

so many riddles,
so many stories,
so many sideway glances
to see if we are getting the point,
we are worn out, Jesus.
perhaps we are like
that soil so hard baked
by all the spin doctors around us,
we wouldn’t know a straight answer
if it fell into our laps.
so maybe,
we just need to stroll around
in these stories, mulling them
over in our minds, sorting
through them like clues in a mystery,
until the soil softens from
the tears we begin to shed,
as we discover, like everything else,
the sideway glances,
the stories, the riddles
are simply grace in disguise.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 28th

“’Let anyone with ears listen!’” Matthew 13:9

imagine—
that it is not the hearing
but that pause between
the word leaving the lips
and when it begins
to tickle our ears.
imagine—
between the first note
of the bird in the morning
and it sinking into
the weariness of our hearts
that a word waits—
a seed tinier than that
mustard seed in Jesus’ hand,
holiness wrapped in hope.
imagine—
all we need
is to cup our hands
like furrows in the dirt
and as silence falls
like gentle spring rain,
grace grows even
if we forget to listen.

(c) 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 27th

“For God alone my soul waits in silence;
   from him comes my salvation.” Psalm 62:1

if i can find the button,
i will power down
my computer and
step away.
if i can figure out
how, i will turn off
my device, or better yet,
leave it behind.
i will take the batteries
out of the remote,
almost ensuring that
i am unable to turn on
the pixels which bewitch me.
and
in the silence,
which at first comforts
me until it begins
to frighten me,
i will wait

for that grace
which is so
counterintuitive
to my tech lifestyle.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 26th

Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Luke 10:25

there he stood,
pockets full of briefs,
words as sharp as his stylus,
ready to pierce any cross examination.
but Jesus doesn’t fall
for his closing argument,
Jesus doesn’t pull out
scrolls from his back pocket
or call down lightning,
he simply looks at him,
like snow looking for children
wanting to make angels.
for love doesn’t come with a recipe,
mercy with quick set-up pictures,
and so, with grace twinkling in his eye,
Jesus softly asks,
‘why don’t you read
between the lines?’
and just then, between
dust on his feet
and the debate clenched
tight in his mind,
a heart suddenly remembers
how to beat for another.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 25th

“I tell you, on the day of judgement you will have to give an account for every careless word you utter;” Matthew 12:36

if only
those hurtful words
spoken with spite toward
the ones we loved
were inattentive.
if only
those angry words
we gathered up like rocks

and put in the slings
of our tongues to hurl
at those we despised
were impetuous.
if only
those judgmental words
we handed down from
the high court of
self-righteous indignation
were irresponsible.
so
when the day of days
finally comes and we
become tongue-tied,
may it be your word of
grace
which makes all the difference.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 24th

"Let all that you do be done in love." 1 Corinthians 16:14

of course
i can donate
some canned goods
to a food bank
in
making space for
more in my pantry;

i can encourage
others to house
refugee families
in
dealing with
my fears of
them moving into
my neighborhood;

i can hope
the free clinic
manages to keep
its doors open
in
guilt for the
health care benefits
i enjoy because
i am so well off;

but do all these things
(and more)
in
love?

© Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 23rd

“I remember the days of old,
    I think about all your deeds,
    I meditate on the works of your hands.” Psalm 143:5

i sort through those
old pictures, of you watching
me pedal away, as you hold
life’s training wheels you just removed.
i gaze up at the sky
and notice the same stars
you painted on my ceiling
that summer, before heading
downstairs to put the patches
on the jeans i ripped playing
all day long with friends.
i thumb through the diary
i kept in those years when
i pushed every envelope and
tested every boundary you had.
i remember
your persistent patience,
your limitless love,
your full-blown forgiveness
and know, as if it were yesterday,
that you are always with me.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 22nd

“’Where, O death, is your victory?
     Where, O death, is your sting?’” 1 Corinthians 15:55

once
you pushed your way
through shadows of war,
you stuffed your pockets
with IOU bills we foolishly signed,
you sat outside rooms as
families were saying goodbyes
to those they loved.
but now?
now, the door is ripped off its hinges,
now, flowers bloom in rubble,
now, we hear our names whispered
by the one who sat in your bitter chill.
your sting?
now
it bounces off our souls.
your victory?
now
it slips back into the shadows
where you sit in loneliness,
for your once untouchable power
has been reduced to dust
by the laughter of Love.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 21st

 “’Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.’” Matthew 11:28

if your heart has
been shattered into a
jigsaw puzzle which could
never be put together,
come.
if your soul is
rubbed so raw that
no amount of healing balm
will ever cause new skin
to cover the wound,
come.
if your back is creaking
and your shoulders
bowed forwards by more grief
than anyone can imagine,
come,
and i will cradle you in
my grace,
my love,
my hope,
my peace,
my life
for however long
you need.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 20th

He chose our heritage for us,
   the pride of Jacob whom
   he loves. Psalm 47:4

peace,
not power;
hope,
not hatred;
kindness,
not killing;
grace,
not crudeness;
justice,
not oppression;
generosity,
not greed,
these are our
heirlooms.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 19th

During the night Paul had a vision: there stood a man of Macedonia pleading with him and saying, “Come over to Macedonia and help us.” When he had seen the vision, we immediately tried to cross over to Macedonia, being convinced that God had called us to proclaim the good news to them. Acts 16:9-10

(far too) often,
we stand on
the corner, thinking
we have to wait
for the signal to change to
Walk
before we dare
to take hope, grace,
peace, and life
to those who are
waving their emptiness
at us on the
other side.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 18th

“If there is no resurrection of the dead, then Christ has not been raised; and if Christ has not been raised, then our proclamation has been in vain and your faith has been in vain.” 1 Corinthians 15:13-14

if not,
there would be no
blush in any sunrise,
dreams would drift away
like smoke on the wind,
faith would be nothing
but idle gossip,
the grave would be scarier
than all the movies combined.
but—
someone shoved a stone,
our names were whispered,
and despite its damaged wing,
hope took flight to spread
the good news to those
who stayed home that morning.
so, whether we preach, sing,
mumble with parched throats,
we do not live in vain, for
even when days are grim
or shadows threaten to win,
resurrection’s seeds are deep
within us, just waiting
to blossom.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 17th

Now I would remind you, brothers and sisters, of the good news that I proclaimed to you, which you in turn received, in which also you stand, through which also you are being saved, if you hold firmly to the message that I proclaimed to you--unless you have come to believe in vain. 1 Corinthians 15:1-2

in the fellow who carves
out time in his busy travels
to have breakfast with
a rarely seen friend.
in the neighborhood curmudgeon
who spent years making
comments and remarks
about his wife over the years
and now faithfully pushes her
down the sidewalk so she
can visit friends every day.
in the staff and housemates
who gather on a cool afternoon
behind the group home
to watch as a tree is planted
in memory of a resident’s
mom,

the gospel
is still
proclaimed.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 16th

“Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.” Matthew 10:40

forget the 76 trombones—
pick up a kazoo and
start a band for the little kids.
no need to run out
and buy a new mat
for the front door,
stand on the porch
and chat with the folks
who are walking by.
one doesn’t have to set
up a big block party,
simply share a sandwich
with the lonely lady
sitting on the park bench.
we don’t have to pay
for a sign on a hot air balloon
and spend a ton on advertising,
we simply open our hearts—
which may be the hardest
choice we may ever make.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 15th

“Brothers and sisters, do not be children in your thinking; rather, be infants in evil, but in thinking be adults.” 1 Corinthians 14:20

we need to learn:
to use our brains,
to sort out our words
before we just toss them
willy-nilly towards others,
but more importantly,
we need to marvel:
at the rose-colored night sky,
at grace that blooms
in the ruins of destruction,
to be able to giggle at the silliness
of little kids fascinated
by the march of ants in dirt.
we need to love simply:
the lined faces of those
who have seen it all,
yet still look for hope,
the open arms of those
who choose innocence over
the cleverness of the world.
we need to grow up,
but never grow weary
of doing good.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 14th

“For his anger is but for a moment;
    his favor is for a lifetime.
Weeping may linger for the night,
    but joy comes with the morning.” Psalm 30:5

it crawled under the covers
acting as if it wanted
to keep me warm,
but then, in the middle
of the night, it came up
and sat by my head
like a curious cat,
its breath ice cold,
its whiskers tickling my cheek.
i let it stay, as usual, because
grief is a creature of yours,
and needs a touch of kindness,
a gentle brushing of its fur.
but sometime during the night,
it slipped away, maybe to hide
in the closet or under the bed.
and when i dared to open my eyes,
i found your grace,
ready for me to slip into it,
like a pair of warm socks.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 13th

Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. 1 Corinthians 13:4-8a

love
waits in the rain
for the straggling child
jumping in every puddle;
offers a hand
to the one
who gave a slap;
refuses to give
in to
grudges;
celebrates the frankness
of those who
discomfort it;
it gives birth to grace,
counts on the good in every person,
takes heart in every moment,
bests the worst it is offered;

love never gives up.

(c) Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 12th

“Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart
    be acceptable to you,
    O LORD, my rock and my redeemer.” Psalm 19:14


they are not prayers, those
tumbling, mumbling, rumbling words,
some sharp as knives
others as careless as slipping
on an icy sidewalk.
they are not mindfulness aids, those
whispers lingering in the quiet
corners of my soul,
those fears masked as wisdom,
those sighs hiding meanness.
yet, you do not stop listening,
but sift through every syllable,
hoping to find just one tiny spark
of grace flickering in the shadows.
so now, today, in some moments,
hopefully more than i realize,
sew kindness in my words,
let me breathe in sync with you,
and when the words start to
rumble, tumble, jumble, mumble—
steady them (and me) until
i sing praises once again.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 11th

“If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.” 1 Corinthians 13:1-3

if i spellbound the masses
with words which painted pictures
as original as Dali or Kahlo,
but love was not the palette i held,
they would disappear like
chalk drawings in a rainstorm.
if i could offer their tomorrows
to everyone who wondered
what lay ahead of them,
but withheld the love which
they hoped for the most,
they would want to step
back into yesterday.
if i could offer, not just
whatever wealth i have, but
my very being to bring life
to those on edge of despair,
but left love in my back pocket
the transaction would be worthless.
so teach me, Brother Jesus,
not the grammar of greatness,
but the one mother tongue
known to every single person—
love.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 10th

“Create in me a clean heart, O God,
    and put a new and right spirit within me.” Psalm 51:10

into that cardboard box
where yesterday’s fears
just wait to be recycled,
breathe
where the dust from my boasting,
where my impostor syndrome
weaves cobwebs,
where those words i let
escape turn to ashes,
breathe.
whether it is when
the sun unzips the morning,
or the noontime when worries
sit down to eat with me,
or as loneliness draws
the drapes closed at night,
breathe
the rhythm of your grace
the melody of your hope
the gentleness of your love
into me,
making me new
once again.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 9th

“You show me the path of life.
    In your presence there is fullness of joy;
    in your right hand are pleasures forevermore.” Psalm 16:11

the map is not a screen
with squiggly lines,
but that gentle breath
taken between heartbeats
on that journey through
celebration and loss alike.
joy is not so much
a comet racing across the night,
but that lantern we carry
as we walk with friends
on crisp autumn evenings.
each step we take
can be a prayer,
each breath
a carol of grace,
each hand
a reminder that love
walks with us
never letting go.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 8th

“When the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, ‘Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?’” Matthew 9:11

we open the envelope
and cannot wait to tell
everyone we know that
we have received VIP tickets
to the concert considered
the best in all the eras of time.
we put on our black-tie gear
and the brand-new evening gown
and are delighted to discover
we are seated with the CEO
and entourage at the banquet.
we walk the privileged streets,
live in privileged homes and
drive privileged vehicles, and
never seem to hear that
whispered question—
‘why aren’t YOU eating
with the forgotten,
the vulnerable,
the despised?’

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 7th

“Deep calls to deep” Psalm 42:7a

in the quiet breath just
before the sun peeks
over the horizon, when
even the birds are asleep,
your silence draws near,
and with a heartbeat
not a banging of drums,
with gentle persistence
of compassion which never fades,
deep calls to deep.
and my worries are cradled
in your waiting stillness,
my questions find grace
wider than any ocean.
and the thoughts, the prayers,
the fears, the failures, all
the shattered bits of me
are gathered in your mercy,
and as the waves of hope
softly lap at my feet
i sink deeper and deeper
into the presence
which is you.

(c) 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 6th

“Therefore, my dear friends, flee from the worship of idols.” 1 Corinthians 10:14

surely,
it is not idolatry
to constantly check out
what the knuckleheads
are saying or x-ing or ‘gramming,
so that we might wail
and moan and rant about
their false and hateful words,
words which strangely seduce us
to listen to them (maybe)
more than we do to those
of grace, of hope, of love.
words which entice us
to continually gorge at their feast
of bile and bitterness—
rather than running
to that table rounded by love,
where hope is always
the entrée, and grace
is the main topic of conversation.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 5th

“I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that lived first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, lives in you.” 2 Timothy 1:5

maybe it was in the warm kitchen,
where gran scattered flour
on the scarred tabletop, to roll out
the dough which would soon become
stars, trees, candy canes, that you
heard that carol for the first time.
maybe it was in the pew
as your mom traced her finger
under the words in the hymnal,
and you discovered how letters
and strange shaped notes on lines
came together to touch your heart.
maybe it is those echoes,
those smells, the lingering memories
of quiet love that shaped your life
in ways you can barely explain,
but come together as you sing
those same old songs
in the winter of your life—
and God smiles.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 4th

“Turn, O LORD! How long?
   Have compassion on your servants!” Psalm 90:13

come close, God,
come close in corridors
where whispers haunt,
in crowded roads surrounded
by more cars than we can count.
come close, God,
come close where we soak
our tears in our pillows,
when we walk down roads
potholed from bitter hearts.
come close, God,
with your compassion which
never dries up,
with your presence which
never punches a timecard,
with songs you compose
from our weary sighs.
come close, God,
always listening,
always loving,
always with us.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 3rd

“If I proclaim the gospel, this gives me no ground for boasting, for an obligation is laid on me, and woe to me if I do not proclaim the gospel!” 1 Corinthians 9:16

do birds choose not to sing
to awaken the world each day?
does a creek decide which rock
it will wear down over the years?
this good news, this gospel,
these words which remind us
that love is not a choice,
that justice is not a once
in a blue moon sort of thing,
that hope is not something
we can take or leave—
tugs at our sleeves until
we stop and turn toward mercy,
whispers gently in the night,
pulls us out of our easy lives
until trying to keep silent
brings tears to our eyes.
and so, with trembling lips,
worrying about what to say,
the Holy One turns
our stammering into carols,
our empty hands into food,
our faltering faith into grace
beyond mere words.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 2nd

“my soul waits for the Lord
     more than those who watch for the morning,
     more than those who watch for the morning.” Psalm 130:6

now, in the waiting,
may i unclench my fear
and lean, open-hearted,
toward dawn’s whisper.
now, in the waiting,
may my eyes, more weary
than those of a night nurse,
look for the soft, slow spill
of sunlight over the town.
now, in the waiting,
where shadows linger
on those nights which seem slower
than the crawl of a turtle,
may i hear that low, gentle
hum of hope just below
every trembling breath.
and in the morning,
every morning,
may we discover Grace
has risen long before
we open our eyes.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 1st

“For the gate is narrow and the road is hard that leads to life, and there are few who find it.” Matthew 7:14

it is that road less taken
that children can find
with their eyes closed.
it is that footprints-less beach
covered with starfish longing
to be thrown back into the sea.
it is that cracked and wonky
sidewalk lined with the homes
where the widowed sit on porches
hoping someone will stop,
just for a moment.
it is that tangled, brambled
path in the woods that the dog
wiggles into, leading us to
those pools of clear water
beside grassy lawns of grace.
it is the weathered, off-kilter,
creaking-in-the-wind gate
which the caretaker left open
so we can find our way home.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 30th

“Why do you see the speck in your neighbor’s eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye?” Matthew 7:3

why is it that
even with those lenses
as thick as the bottom
of soda bottles, i still manage
to notice the tiniest shaving
stuck in my neighbor’s life,
yet
never notice those
railroad ties i drag
with me each day?
i guess
it is just easier
to point fingers
then to offer a hand,
to shout accusations
than whisper a prayer
for forgiveness,
to easily diagnose
someone else while
seeking more opinions about me.
reach out with those
callused, carpenter’s fingers
to open my eyes
so i may see with
your grace.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 29th

“But as for me, my feet had almost stumbled;
    my steps had nearly slipped.” Psalm 73:2

i felt pretty spry, light on my feet,
as i strolled through life,
those hymns of trust
humming in my heart.
but then,
i started to wobble just a bit
as the pins and needles of jealousy
showed up in my legs,
so sly, so smooth until
i realized how easy it was
for me to lose my balance,
teetering on those cracks
in my faith, suddenly finding
my arms windmilling, reaching
for grace, afraid i might topple
into the bitterness of doubt.
but you are here, at my side,
sometimes like a cane
sometimes like a handrail,
sometimes like a walker,
always steady as mercy,
quiet as breath,
ready to catch me
every time.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 28th

“When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.” Luke 5:11

on the still lake,
the boat gently rocking
from a voice which causes
ripples never felt before.
hearts wearied by work,
souls callused by worry,
are suddenly restored, not
by green pastures, but
by the courage to simply
let go and open up
to new possibilities, new life.
a voice, a Shepherd’s voice
drifts across the waters,
and we dare to go,
following through the shadows
to where a table waits.
and surely,
goodness and mercy
are the footprints we leave
in the sand, for others
to find the way after us.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 27th

“’For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.’” Matthew 6:21

it is in that hand
we offer to another,
not in that lockbox in the closet
with the keys hidden safely
(and we hope we don’t forget
where).
it is in the stories told
around a shared meal,
which evoke laughter
as well as a few tears,
not in vaults available only
on certain days.
it is in that hope which
leans close to embrace
us in grace which does not
cost us anything but faith—
that is where our treasure
breathes
lingers
rests
lives
serves.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 26th

“’When you are praying, do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do; for they think that they will be heard because of their many words.’” Matthew 6:7

prayers are not rungs
in a ladder to allow us
to get closer to you.
we do not need to string
syllables together like garlands
on an old-fashioned Christmas tree
so you might pay more attention.
in those slow treads
down hospital corridors,
in the gently falling tears
on the face of a sick child,
in the gentle conversation
at tables in a shelter,
in that soft pause between
breaths that we take,
in that worn-out whisper,
‘i need help’
we find you listening closely
to each breath
to each word
to each tear
to each step
as you cradle us
in your grace.

(c) 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 25th

“’So whenever you give alms, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, so that they may be praised by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward.’” Matthew 6:2

we can blow our own horns
(after all, everyone else seems to),
and in our hubris, we may not notice
how strident the notes sound or
the folks who quickly turn away.
but with open hands,
with nothing to gain
(especially applause from others),
we can share that tune
we did not compose—
a hymn for the hungry,
a love song for the lonely,
a great chorus of grace
which does not seek the spotlight,
which does not care about reviews,
but simply invites us to live
in the silence between the notes,
where God carries the melody
smiling at the music
we never knew was in us.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 24th

"But I say to you: ‘Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you,’” Matthew 5:44

in those places
where echoes dwell,
you ask us to whisper grace.
in the weary eyes
of the folks who wound us,
you hope we will see
a sibling who has forgotten
that, they too, are beloved.
you ask us, brother Jesus,
to carry the names of all
who make our souls ache,
as if they are delicate flowers
into the silence of prayer,
to let compassion be a balm
on the burn scars from bitterness,
and maybe, just maybe,
as our hearts crack open,
your way of being different
loving differently
accepting in a different way,
making a difference
begins to change us all.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 23rd

“’Let your word be “Yes, Yes” or “No, No”; anything more than this comes from the evil one.’”
Matthew 5:37

they are like the spam
which shows up in email
or those annoying robocalls
which interrupt our lives—
these words which we
so casually use as if they
were promises that scatter
like leaves in autumn’s wind.
but you remind us to speak
simply and plainly, because
truth really doesn’t need
a lot of glitter sprinkled on it,
just a gift from the heart.
so,
may ‘yes’
be a door open wide
to those who need shelter,
may ‘no’
be a boundary which
respects privacy and
each person’s dignity
and may both
be woven together
in the shawl of grace.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 22nd

“We are fools for the sake of Christ, but you are wise in Christ.” 1 Corinthians 4:10a

we think we need to collect
wisdom, polishing it to put
in a glass-fronted case,
but you hand us a DIY book
on how to live prodigiously
foolish,
scattering our clunky love
like seeds on rocky soil,
stumbling into grace
as we trip over our own feet
trying to chase after the world,
thinking the questions are
far more important than answers.
and when others shake their heads
at our lack of common sense,
you remind us that the weakness
of compassion is stronger than hate,
that you craft stain glass windows
in the cracks of our hearts
to tell the stories of abundant love.
so may we rejoice
to join your league of fools,
making known your mercy,
your peace, your hope to all.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 21st

”And the crowds asked him, ‘What then should we do?’” Luke 3:10

what then, we wonder as
we pull our coats tighter,
we push our wallets
deeper in our pockets,
double the security
on our safe little lives, but
that fellow standing in the water,
dripping with grace, gives a slight smile,
pointing to the little kids
shivering in winter’s thin wind,
to the widow who still
puts her husband’s pjs under his pillow,
to the immigrants struggling
to learn a new language.
just be kind, the ordinary,
everyday sort of kindness
which is the foundation
of everyday, ordinary humanity.
for it is not with arguments
or boots on the ground,
but with warm mittens,
loaves of bread and
bowls of soup,
hands wide open to let
another person’s hopes
rest there, which builds
God’s Beloved Community.

(c) 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 20th

“Think of us in this way, as servants of Christ and stewards of God’s mysteries.” 1 Corinthians 4:1

not the creative types who imagine
nor those skilled at drawing blueprints,
no, we are the drivers of heavy equipment,
smoothers of sidewalk cement,
carriers of shingles to the rooftops,
installers of drywall, and sweepers
of steps for families moving into their first home.
like a weary mother carrying
a candle in the dark when power is out,
we hold mysteries too fragile
to be entrusted to safe deposit boxes.
and when someone asks us
what our calling might be,
let us simply say, we are not
CEOs,
or heads of state,
but simply servers
our hands open,
our hearts giving,
opening the door wide
for whoever needs us.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 19th

“’You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot.’” Matthew 5:13

grief is a bitter dish,
a mixture of the dust of loss
and those tears which overflow
every measuring spoon we try.
so
remind us that when you
mention we are salt, it is not
to preserve our sorrow,
but so we might taste
the flavor of your hope
in the sting of sudden weeping,
we might have the silence
of our empty hearts seasoned
with your compassion,
in the ache which dulls our senses
we might still taste the sweet
promise of your Light,
and we will always know
that even if we are
still only salt,
we are yours,
sprinkled on the world
as we bear witness to love.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 18th

“When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying:” Matthew 5:1-2

when we think the poor
should be left alone because
they are guaranteed heaven,
have mercy.
when we think those trapped
in the quicksand of grief
can get out on their own,
have mercy.
when we think the humble
deserve the dirt thrown in their face
because they are weak,
have mercy.
when we think those who seek justice
for the forgotten and despised
are just a bunch of bleeding hearts,
have mercy.
when we think those who are generous
to anyone who stands on street corners
are suckers pure and simple,
have mercy.
when we think those who refuse
to trade their faith for hate and fear
are blind to the reality of the world,
have mercy.
when we think those who challenge
the politics of power and might
are doddering old fools,
have mercy.
when we think the wisest course
of action in life is to forsake you
and swear allegiance to evil,
have mercy on us, Lord,
have mercy.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 17th

“O LORD, who may abide in your tent?
   Who may dwell on your holy hill?” Psalm 15:1

those who stumble yet get up,
those who never win a ribbon,
those whose grief is a flickering candle,
those whose tears water seeds of hope—
they are the ones who abide with you.
those who open doors
not the ones who guard inner sanctums.
those who use the thread of justice
to mend the torn fabric of others’ lives.
those whose hands tremble in fear
yet reach out to the excluded,
the unheard, the unseen.
those who are so exhausted from
trying to heal the brokenness of the world,
yet refuse to stay in bed each day.
those who, when the truth-tellers
and the grace-givers are threatened,
pitch their tents next to them,
refusing to leave them on their own.
they are the ones who know the way
to your compassionate heart.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 16th

“From that time Jesus began to proclaim, ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” Matthew 4:17

whenever outsiders are welcomed
by those who set aside
their ingrained fears and suspicions,
another family moves into
the Beloved Community.
whenever we refuse to let
anger control the conversation,
cruelty to plant its flag in our hearts,
hopelessness place a seed in our souls,
the Beloved Community becomes
even more appealing to doubters.
whenever we give our favorite clothes
to those out of favor with the privileged,
whenever we realize the folks
living at the shelter deserve to eat
as well and healthily as we do,
whenever we treat the forgotten
as if they are long-lost family,
we discover that we are closer
to the Beloved Community
that we ever imagined.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 15th

“Your name, O LORD, endures forever,
    your renown, O LORD, throughout all ages.” Psalm 135:13

there, in the mist of dawns
so far back we cannot count
when language was simply
grunts and guttural sounds,
your name was spoken,
and people longed for your touch.
in the hidden places where
the fearful were tortured for believing
and in grand cathedrals with words
whose eloquence resound to today,
your name was spoken,
and people longed for your touch.
now, when anger and cruelty
seek to drag us back into that miasma
where language is simply
guttural sounds and grunts,
we still speak your name,
hoping you listen.
we still long for your touch,
yearning for you to reach out.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 14th

“He raises the poor from the dust,
   and lifts the needy from the ash heap,
to make them sit with princes,
   with the princes of his people.” Psalm 113:7-8

covered with the detritus of life,
palms callused from unskilled labor,
we ignore you, but when
we fall into the cracks of life,
you are the one who pulls us out,
when we wander down alleys
where no one knows us,
you come calling our names.
not out of any pity, but pure delight,
taking us out to dinner,
not to sit in the corner reserved
for the forgotten, but
at the table where the party
has already started,
where our scarred lives
are considered to be holy.
and there, where
the poor become honored,
the empty become family,
the broken become beloved
we sit, gobsmacked,
that we are in their midst.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 13th

“You stretch out the heavens like a tent,
   you set the beams of your chambers on the waters,
you make the clouds your chariot,
   you ride on the wings of the wind,
you make the winds your messengers,
   fire and flame your ministers.” Psalm 104:2b-4

Designer of dawns,
flinging stars like paint splatters
across the still skies of night,
you craft a refuge with space enough
for every question or silence,
a mercy wide enough
for every whispered hope.
you could use the mountains
to build your house, but
choose those wild waters we fear,
showing us that even chaos
can become the manger for holiness.
you ride the clouds in wonder,
whispering parables of hope on the wind,
your compassion flames up
in the dry tinder of cruelty,
as you draw closer to us,
gliding on the breath
loaned to us by the Spirit,
your Word ready to carve rivers
in the deserts of our hearts.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 12th

“Yet whatever gains I had, these I have come to regard as loss because of Christ.” Philippians 3:7

so many shiny things
i wanted to accumulate
and display over the years,
those tangible proofs that
i matter, i am special—
but diplomas yellow in the frames,
trophies seem to garner more dust
than oohs and ahs from visitors,
and resumes all too often
end up in the round file.
but then, i am asked
to polish the halls of power
not walk them,
to carry food and tents
and supplies to rough sleepers,
to keep searching for the forgotten
so that, together, we might
stumble over grace,
and rather than losing
what i once believed
to be beyond price,
i am found.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 11th

“A voice was heard in Ramah,
   wailing and loud lamentation,
Rachel weeping for her children;
   she refused to be consoled, because they are no more.” Matthew 2:18

Rachel is there
in every street where tears
pool in cratered houses,
where the broken bodies
of children are carried in the arms
of parents who refuse to be comforted,
where voices, the dust of grief
turning them hoarse, drift across
the rubble of former communities.
and God?
God who once tiptoed into a barn
and slept in a manger of straw,
who knew firsthand
the fear, the flight, the exile
simply because of where
he was born, sits with Rachel
and all the mothers of Gaza,
sobbing, keening, weeping,
wailing until justice is done.

(c) 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 10th

“be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind.” Philippians 2:2b

may we not walk in lockstep
with the cruel and uncaring,
but take time to play hopscotch
with the little kids down the street.
may we not give our hearts
to the influencers of arrogance,
but share in that love
which walks with those
who shuffle in old age,
which holds hands unsteady
from too much sorrow, and
which gives away the animal
balloons which joy makes.
let us join our voices with
those who dare not audition
for any of those ‘got talent’ shows,
but whose hearts know
the cracked harmony of life,
because they dare to listen
to the Spirit of compassion
and not the polished chords
of the cantatas of polarization.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 9th

“Only, live your life in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ,” Philippians 1:27a

only—
live not in tiktoks or x-posts
but in the weariness
of single parents,
the songs of earth awaking,
learning from the pauses
in grief.
worthy—
not earning applause
or polishing resumes,
but sharing broken bread
with those hungering for crumbs
or offering a cup of grace
to all parched by despair.
of the gospel—
that upside-down community,
one moment, coming like a tornado
to pull the roofs of our fears
and the next, a caravan of strangers
arriving to stay as long as needed.
of Christ—
who stands on corners
needing our help,
who wipes our tears
when everyone turns away,
who invites us to see God
in the faces of everyday people
the world says have no value.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 8th

"O LORD, in the morning you hear my voice;
   in the morning I plead my case to you, and watch.” Psalm 5:3

i groan so much in the morning
about having to head off
to a job which pays well
but which, well, bores me to tears
and so do not have time
for the unemployed hoping for help.
while tapping my plastic money
on the machine, i mutter to myself
about how much groceries cost
(though my pantry runneth over), yet
ignore the mother explaining
why she cannot buy her child’s
favorite cereal.
i spend so much time
putting the case to myself
about what a burden privilege
can be,
that i turn a deaf ear
to your pleading, O God,
for just a few minutes
of genuine compassion.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 7th

“But Peter and John answered them, ‘Whether it is right in God’s sight to listen to you rather than to God, you must judge; for we cannot keep from speaking about what we have seen and heard.’” Acts 4:19-20

when the privileged
boast of another stock
market record being set
and tell the have-nots
to pull themselves up,
when the arrogant hold
all the gavels and tell
the oppressed to keep
silent in kangaroo courts,
when the world tries
to gag our voices with
all their fears and worries,
help us to remember
that wind which burst open
locked doors and shuttered windows
and sent us out into the streets
to speak of justice,
that bread broken into
enough pieces to heal
a shattered world,
that empty tomb which echoes
the resurrection songs of angels,
and that fire which burnt our lips
so we could cry out
with that love
which refuses to stay silent.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 6th

“when I think of you on my bed,
   and meditate on you
   in the watches of the night;” Psalm 63:6

even with all the lights
up and down the streets,
may i notice you, walking
in the shadows, caring for
the rough sleepers,
the lonely weepers,
the unnoticed street sweepers.
as the noise of the world murmurs
and all those thoughts i try
to control just won’t behave,
may i hear the gentle echoes
of the laughter of children,
the kind word i heard
a stranger offer to another,
the gentle grace which was whispered
into the weariness of my soul.
and as i stretch to find
a comfortable position to rest,
may i remember that you
hold all of us, all of us,
in your heart, so we have no need
to cling to all which would
keep us from sleeping in your peace.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 5th

“He drew me up from the desolate pit,
    out of the miry bog,
and set my feet upon a rock,
    making my steps secure.” Psalm 40:2

so many rocks grief
has slipped into my pockets,
so much mud caked
on my shoes from thinking
i could slog through life alone,
and as i slowly begin to sink
into that quicksand of despair
which has filled my path,
i feel your hand beneath me,
gently lifting me, not to place
me on some seat of power—
but on good, old, ordinary dirt,
that earth hard packed from
so many stumblers before me,
that has held trembling feet
and knocking knees, as we learn
to take just one hesitant, fearful
step
onto that ground you make holy
simply because you refuse
to leave our side.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 4th

“So who, then, are you to judge your neighbor?” James 4:12b

i find it all too easy
to pull out that splintered mirror
i carry in my little bag of tricks,
so i can show another
all the cracks in their soul,
or to mark their growth
(and especially lack of)
on that door frame of my
hardened heart.
but you come along,
with your mending hands,
your healing whisper,
your mercy instead of retribution,
to remind us that rather
than passing a verdict
on any other person,
we should let go of that gavel
and hold our neighbor’s hand
in grace.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 3rd

“For all the gods of the peoples are idols,
    but the LORD made the heavens.” Psalm 96:5

each of them, all of them—
the god of business
encouraging accumulating more,
the god of the mirrors whispering
appearance is all that matters,
the god of our devices filling us
with noise, and our souls with emptiness,
the god of achievement who mounts
diplomas on our walls
and prints letters after our names—
all of them, all of them
seek to seduce us away from the One
whose glory is found in grace,
whose strength is weakness,
whose power is humility,
whose love embraces the forgotten,
who has been, who is now, and who,
long after we find new idols
to go running after,
will be our God.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 2nd

“What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but do not have works? Can faith save you?” James 2:14

if we offer only prayers
and not practical, workable
solutions to problems which
destroy lives,
what good is it?

if we claim to follow Jesus
but offer loyalty to those
who call other children of God
animals,
what good is it?

if we believe in forgiveness
but cannot, just flat out refuse,
to give away those grudges
we carry for more years
than we can count,
what good is it?

if we say we have faith
but cannot bring ourselves
to believe, much less trust,
that God’s grace, hope, justice,
peace, inclusion, mercy
are far better than anything
we can come up with,
what good is it?

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 1st

“For I was envious of the arrogant;
    I saw the prosperity of the wicked.” Psalm 73:3

they drive those shiny cars
which become pied pipers
for the empty yearning in our hearts.
they have mansions, apartments
in many cities, and act as if
a yacht is simply another rowboat,
and it is no wonder that
our souls turn a shade of green.
so whisper to us of the reality
that things made from metal rust,
that barnacles attach to everything,
that they have no real homes,
just tons of property as if life
is a game of Monopoly.
and turn our gaze toward you,
toward that Beloved Community
of justice, welcome, and compassion
where envy finds no soil
in which to plant its seeds
and grace grows wild and free.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

August 31st

“The Lord is my shepherd . . .” Psalm 23

the ache is like a black star
as the emptiness of my moments
collapses in on itself, yet
you refuse to let me walk alone.
when i think i cannot take another breath,
the Spirit steps in to help me.
i wander aimlessly, as if i have
lost my way, but Goodness traces
a labyrinth in the dust, so i will be able
to find my way out of grief’s wilderness.
the stones are sharper than knives
and the shadows are thicker than fog,
but i find Life holding out a chair
where a meal awaits, and there
are empty cups to catch all the tears
as they are transformed into hope.
Tenderness seems to trail after me
like a lost dog knowing the way home
and even in this Heartache Hotel
where i currently abide,
there is a thin place of grace,
not just for this moment,
but for as long as all the moments
may last.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

August 30th

“My soul clings to you;
    your right hand upholds me.” Psalm 63:8

i end up with blisters
on my fingertips trying to rub
away all the mistakes of my life
and calluses on my hands
from climbing up as many rungs
of success’s ladder as i can,
when all i need to do
is simply hold on to the
sleeves of grace’s jacket
to find my way in the world.
wandering and wondering
exhausts me most days, yet
when i notice that I am cradled
in the hollow of your palm,
i realize that it is not my strength
that holds me together, but yours.
so, when the struggles of each day
seem to try to blow me further from you,
may i find your hand guiding me,
lifting me, steadying me,
carrying me home.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

August 29th

“For my soul is full of troubles,
   and my life draws near to Sheol.” Psalm 88:3

like ants that come tumbling
out of the ground when food is near,
my troubles seem to multiply
more quickly than any device can count.
yes, they may seem more like
speed bumps in a road than mountains,
but they are more seductive
than all the fantasies i can conjure
as they slowly drag, pull, nudge me
closer to that place where i fear
i will be forgotten forever.
but you’ve known such moments—
the silence of others’ hearts,
the nights empty of hope,
days stretching into monotony.
so, draw me, embrace me, caress me
with that presence which reminds me
that you will never let me
slip out of your grace.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman