June 30th

“Be merciful to me, O God, be merciful to me,
   for in you my soul takes refuge;
in the shadow of your wings I will take refuge,
   until the destroying storms pass by.” Psalm 57:1

it is when the wind begins
to shake the branches,
it is when the thunder starts
its oh-so-low bass thrumming,
it is when our hearts want
to crawl into our souls’ closet,
you open your wings,
gathering us like nervous nellie chicks,
or a person wrapping a thunder
blanket around their furry best friend,
or a teacher whispering grace
to his frightened friends caught
in a sudden storm on a lake.
and so,
even when we wonder
if you are as close
to us as everyone says—
and maybe especially then—
we can lean into you
like a kitten into its mother,
knowing, trusting, finding
that you have got us.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

June 29th

"As he turned away to leave Samuel, God gave him another heart; and all these signs were fulfilled that day.” 1 Samuel 10:9

we need to stop
hoping for lightning
or a word in a homily
or even a love letter
sealed with red wax.
sometimes it is just
a breath as soft as
a mother leaning over
a new born in a stable,
or bread handed to us
from perfect strangers,
and then,
something we have clung
to so tight slips away
like a shadow at night,
and a new heart—
not hollow
but filled with hope,
not shallow
but deep in compassion,
not perfect
but open to possibility,
not proud,
but beating with humility,
and we know we can go
to let it break for others.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

June 28th

“Let them praise his name
   with dancing,
making melody to him
   with tambourine and
   lyre.” Psalm 149:3

for clouds scudding across
blue skies like tumbleweeds,
for puppies that seem
to find everything possible
to knock over in their joy
of kids coming home,
for goslings parading
behind their folks in
almost-perfect formation,
for grandpas who can
whistle a tune that rivals
the finest symphony player,
for pools with shallow ends
for the most nervous
little one (and their parents)
and a deep end for
the ones trying to impress
those with blasé attitudes,
we praise you,
God of joy which tastes
as sweet as dandelion wine.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

June 27th

"He had a son whose name was Saul, a handsome young man. There was not a man among the people of Israel more handsome than he; he stood head and shoulders above everyone else." 1 Samuel 9:2

when we look
at the chiseled chin,
the piercing blue eyes,
the wind-swept hair
and think,
'that's the one!'
remind us to look
for the warts;
when we admire
those who stand
head and shoulders
above the rest,
point our eyes down
so we can see
the feet of
clay.

(c) Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

June 26th

“’But I am among you as one who serves.’” Luke 22:27c

you slip into the high-viz
safety jacket, working
in the shadows of despair
to help us keep from
journeying into foolishness.
you hang up the blazer
to slip into a cardigan,
exchanging your dress shoes
for a pair of worn sneakers,
to sit on the floor with us,
telling stories, modeling imagination,
singing songs with lyrics
that linger for decades.
you avoid the spotlight,
simply walking through
the rows of seats bending low
and gently handing out
pieces of bread
and cups full of grace,
whispering,
‘see, it doesn't take

a lot of skill to do 

this sort of thing.’

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

June 25th

“Then Samuel took a stone and set it up between Mizpah and Jeshanah and named it Ebenezer, for he said, ‘Thus far the Lord has helped us.’” 1 Samuel 7:12

there,
between the mountain
we thought we couldn’t climb
and the valley which frightens us
because it is filled with shadows.
there,
on those stony roads which
cause bruises up to our souls,
and the paths covered with the dust
of those dreams turned to ashes.
there,
where the storms washed away
those hopes which had sustained generations
and in the tiny seeds planted in cups
by children who believe in miracles.
there,
we build our cairns of mercy
so others know they are
not alone on their journey.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

June 24th

“’What profit is there in my death,
   if I go down to the Pit?
Will the dust praise you?
   Will it tell of your faithfulness?’” Psalm 30:9

if there is no more breath,
if the songs are stilled,
if the whispers fall away,
what is the point?
i have never heard
a hole in the ground
offer hallelujahs, nor
bones sing in 4-part harmony,
and stillness is no more
a promise keeper than a rock.
so,
don’t let go of us,
not because we are deserving,
but because we are
still struggling
to learn the tunes,
to memorize the lyrics,
to sing in unison,
while dust never breaks
its vow of silence.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

June 23rd

“The Lord is just in all his ways,
and kind in all his doings.” Psalm 145:17

too often, it seem your goodness
is playing hide and seek with us,
when our cries for peace echo back
or when the promise of justice
turns out to be just idle gossip.
then—
when we are too alone
a stranger offers a weary smile
while holding open a door,
grace comes like a stunning sunset,
a chair is pulled out
to welcome us at a table,
mercy curls up in our souls.
and we discover once again
that while we may not see your hand,
your fingerprints are all over
the compassion offered to the forgotten,
the hope given without conditions,
the quiet faithfulness of a friend,
and we once more lean
into your steadfast love
which is always beside us.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

June 22nd

"Then they arrived at the region of the Gerasenes, which is opposite Galilee. As he stepped out on shore, a man from the city who had demons met him. For a long time he had not worn any clothes, and he did not live in a house but in the tombs.” Luke 8:26-27

we know what it is like
to live in that far country
our Sunday School teachers
warned us about,
that other side of the tracks
where we are so broken,
so bruised, so damaged by life
we no longer know who we are.
where we wander among the tombstones
of fear, of anger, of grudges, of loneliness.
where those voices constantly whisper,
‘you’re worthless
you’re right where you belong
no one is coming to help you.’
then a boat lands, and you
step out on the shore, coming
to meet us, not flinching, but
simply asking our name,
and reminding us
there is no country too far
no one so lost
no damage so severe
that grace will not find us.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: Thom-Shuman

June 21st

"On the day I called, you answered me, you increased my strength of soul." Psalm 138:3

most days when we call,
it is not with well-crafted,
well-rehearsed prayers,
but weary voices, cracking hearts,
and yet, you listen
you don’t ask us to buck up,
to become stronger people,
you gather us on your lap,
breathing hope into our emptiness,
planting seeds of grace
into the parched soil of our souls.
for it is not on mountaintops
looking for thunderclaps,
but in the valleys of fear
where we are,
and so with a whispered,
‘yes,’
you soothe our quaking lives,
so that today, we might
keep moving forward,
carrying your affirmation
like a candle lighting the way
so that we might not stumble.

(c) 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: Thom-Shuman

June 20th

“they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need.” Acts 2:45

the person on the corner
with the cardboard sign
asking for help—
why can’t we see her
as a sister desperate
for a meal, not a fix?
the busker with the music
case open at their feet—
how is it the assumption
becomes the proceeds are
simply going to a grifter,
not a brother trying to feed
some kids waiting at home?
could it be that,
even if we sold all our
possessions and goods,
we would believe that
we
are still the ones
who need the proceeds?

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: Thom-Shuman

June 19th

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

in the pool filled with despair’s tears,
in the hollow of silent hearts,
in the hole dug by empty souls
where i have been tossed,
you whisper, ‘wherever you are,
I am.’
where anger tries to be the last word,
as the shadows try to barricade
the sun from drawing near,
when the thoughts of the grave
clenches my soul so tight,
i dare not breathe, you whisper,
‘even there, I am.’
you cradle me in your heart
as if i were as precious
to you as a sparrow,
simply because
i am.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: Thom-Shuman

June 18th

“He said to them, ‘Why do you do such things? For I hear of your evil dealings from all these people.’” 1st Samuel 2:23

they think no one cares,
that no one listens to
those quiet backroom meetings,
those bruised words in smiles,
the way power is offered
for crypto currency.
but questions get around,
truth whispers in the shadows,
and the Old Book implores,
why??
not to judge them
but to open their eyes
not to punish them,
but to nudge warped souls
toward that voice they ignore.
maybe grace is in such questions
offered in a quivery voice,
while God still waits at the
window,
hoping the answer will be
those prodigals finding
their way home.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: Thom-Shuman

June 17th

“When shall I come and behold
   the face of God?” Psalm 42:2b

in evenings of lengthening shadows
and days of hope singing
so low we can barely hear it,
when silence parches our souls
and prayers hang loose as if
we have had a sudden loss of faith,
perhaps
in the smile creasing
the immigrant’s face or
that breath which signals
the first drops of rain,
you shimmer,
not in stunning sunsets
but in a sandwich offered by the weary,
in grace as soft as slippers,
in the creases on a nana’s face.
and as i sit and ponder
when i will get a glimpse of you,
you are on the worn pavement
crying out for justice,
in the tears shared at gravesides,
in that knot of kids selling lemonade
and
i realize i have simply
forgotten how to see.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: Thom-Shuman

June 15th

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” John 1:1

in the hush between
the cracking of chaos
and creation taking is first breath,
there was a Word.
before God wound the clock
on the mantle over Eden’s fireplace
or stars whispered stories in the night,
there was a Word.
not a shout of hubris
but a lullaby of love,
not a doctrine to memorize
or a puzzle to be put together,
but hope offered in a hand.
at the beginning, with God,
with every moment, in God,
from before any bang, big or little,
was God—
the Word moving into every
weary and forgotten neighborhood,
learning our names, discovering our faults,
and willing to love us, despite us.
still.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

June 14th

"Set me as a seal upon your heart,
as a seal upon your arm;
for love is strong as death,
passion fierce as the grave.
Its flashes are flashes of fire,
a raging flame.” Song of Songs 8:6

it’s not a burning bush
or a thunderclap on a mountaintop
or even a dove showing up at baptism.
it is more like a love note
we discover in our purse or pocket
that you, God, slip in when we are not looking.
you aren’t necessarily asking for our heart,
but that we make you permanent,
immutable, as if wax pressed
by the Beloved’s ring, or like
love etched on scarred hands.
you remind us that your love
is anything but safe, that
it is stronger than death,
as passionate as what
we feel for our soulmates,
yet you would place it
on our hearts with a butterfly’s kiss,
you would tattoo it on our souls
where it would burn so bright
others can see it as clear as day.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

June 13th

"Then he entered the temple and began to drive out those who were selling things there" Luke 19:45

we immediately begin
to clap and cheer as
Jesus clears out
the privileged from their head tables,
the narcissists waiting
for their parade to pass by,
the powerful who sell their souls
for fancy airplanes and bigger portfolios.
but
then as he turns and notices
us
sitting at our tables
piled high with dogmas and doctrines,
our fancy brochures for seminars
on nothing-but-growth promised,
our books that guarantee
the sort of prosperity which will
us the envy of all our friends,
the new and improved faith
based on that old monasticism,
we see that glint in his eyes
and the twitch in his fingers
and start to sweat . . .

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

June 12th

“They replied, ‘The Lord needs it.’” Luke 19:34

the back bowed from work,
the frayed rope around the neck,
hardly the white stallion meant
to carry generals or royalty—
yet, that is what Jesus needed,
not perfection,
but the ordinary, caked with dust.
what if that’s all the permission
we need to let go
of those fears knotted
to us by frayed dreams, 

caked with dust?
after all,
maybe what is being asked
of us in such moments
or in every moment
is not perfect lives,
but that we let go
of our grip on ordinary lives
caked with the dust
of all our foolish choices
because we are needed
to carry others into
the Beloved Community.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

June 11th

“If I must boast, I will boast of the things that show my weakness.” 2 Corinthians 11:30

if i swagger, let it be
as grace turns my stumbles
into dance steps.
it i crow, let it be
with that raspy voice
from singing all night about hope.
if i boast, let it be
with the splinters of my heart
cracked by the wounds of the world.
if i gloat, let it be
about the vulnerable being chosen
to sit at the head table of love.
if i brag, let it be prayers
whispered from those
failure built prisons as mercy
creeps in on little feet.
for whatever claim
i might make about myself
is but that stone i roll
in front of my soul, but
which you push open
to welcome me into
the new life you offer.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

June 10th

“Help, O LORD, for there is no longer anyone who is godly;
   the faithful have disappeared from humankind.
They utter lies to each other;
   with flattering lips and a double heart they speak.” Psalm 12:1-2

where?
where are you, God, when
lie seems to follow lie until
we face a tsunami of falsehood,
and truth is washed from under our feet.
yet, still, in the silence of hope
we wait,
for the whispers of the just
to mingle with the voices of grace,
gradually swelling into songs
with lyrics about endurance
and music hummed by little kids.
for it is in the silence,
trusting your truth will outlast
the storm of the knuckleheads,
that your light will brighten
the shadows of our fears,
that your justice will become
a rainbow sheltering everyone,
that our hearts will hold fast
as we wait to be reborn.

(c) 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

June 9th

“Even if you are exiled to the ends of the world, from there the LORD your God will gather you, and from there he will bring you back.” Deuteronomy 30:4

if the world would cast us
adrift on a paper boat headed
toward that place marked
‘here be dragons,’
still
God would find us,
using that whisper carried
back on the sighs of our souls
to find the route to us,
with that wearied trust
of a shepherd who knows
the individual voice of every sheep.
even if the powerful
grinds our hearts into dust
that they put in a container
shipped to some grace-forsaken spot,
still
God will never give up
coming to gather us,
singing us home with
lullabies as soft as mercy,
with kisses as certain
as the stars coming
out at night.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

Pentecost

the smell of broken bread
lingering in that upstairs room,
their hearts shredded like the
Temple’s veil, surely it was over.
but rather than knocking gently,
that holy wildfire,
that unrestrained wind,
that grace which unties
tongues of the shyest,
came barreling in
tumbling them out
into the empty streets.
and still,
in that first breath
a new-born takes,
in those songs for justice
in forgotten neighborhoods,
in whispered hopes
at gravesides in death’s chill,
she comes -
ready to push us out
of apathy-shuttered lives,
with good news sparking off us,
ready to ignite grace
in the world.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

June 7th

“’Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters.’” Luke 11:23

there is one field sown
with the wildflowers of grace
while next to it is one
teeming with the weeds of expediency.
and while we sit on the fence
that extends between the two,
not sure where we should walk,
we might remember that Jesus
isn’t inviting us to be neutral parties.
no, we are called to gather
the forgotten, the fearful,
and even those we cannot stand.
we are invited to mend nets
ripped apart by polarization,
to bandage the wounds of the wicked
as well as cradling those closest to our hearts.
and so, will we choose to hold
his hand and race toward
the splintering of the world
or just keep teetering,
as the pieces drift apart.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

June 6th

“Is it not enough for you to feed on the good pasture, but you must tread down with your feet the rest of your pasture? When you drink of clear water, must you foul the rest with your feet? And must my sheep eat what you have trodden with your feet, and drink what you have fouled with your feet?” Ezekiel 34:18-19

we pull on our wellies
trampling on all grace
leaves behind.
yes, the pasture is deep and wide
yet we are determined to muck it up
with our mud-coated, narcissistic feet.
we are handed that cool drink
from mercy’s deep waters
and then toss the litter
from our picnic in the well.
whisper, Shepherd of our hearts,
so we remember how guilty
we are leaving only crumbs
from your table, for the least.
Gatherer of scattered sheep
sift our souls of our greed,
loosen our grip on our blessings,
and remind us of the burdens
we leave behind for others
to clear up from our journey.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

June 5th

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

whether with a scroll
or using our tablet,
we want to test this
itinerant preacher
with the same question,
‘what must i do?’
do we really think
God’s love is ink
in the lines on a ledger,
or that grace is confined
to very narrow margins?
do we imagine we
will be pinned like butterflies
in some divine display case
on the other side of life?
so, pay attention,
because Jesus, with that
always irritating patience
simply takes our question
and tosses it like the chaff it is,
scattering our always
irritating need to somehow
earn
what is simply a gift.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

June 4th

“His delight is not in the strength of the horse
    nor his pleasure in the speed of a runner,
but the Lord takes pleasure in those who fear him,
    in those who hope in his steadfast love.” Psalm 147:10-11

don’t look for God
in this cutthroat culture
or in the midst of folks
tapping their chests with fists.
it is in the pause between heartbeats,
the wind carrying whispers
of frightened children,
at the street corners where
weary souls gather hoping
to find grace offering them work –
that is where we find
the Holy delighting in us.
for it is not the Olympic
like sprinters who God notices,
but the ones with tender hearts,
with souls welcoming the lonely,
with dogged determination
to get through this obstacle
course we call life, where
goodness and mercy wait
to welcome them at the finish.

(c) 2025 Thom Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

June 3rd

 “He said to them, ‘The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.’” Luke 10:2

we pass it every day,
that farm where the crops
God planted and tended
are at their peak, just waiting
for folks to show up
to pick them and take them
to the stores, the parking lot markets,
the pantries in food deserts
where they could offer
tantalizing grace for the forgotten,
abundant justice for the vulnerable,
delicious hope for the lonely.
but since we are convinced
that our education, our work,
our privilege, our faith should
not be wasted on such labor,
folks will continue to starve
for God in their lives.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

June 2nd

“Jesus said to him, ‘No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.’” Luke 9:62

you see it with wide open eyes,
that grace roughened road
pockmarked with mercy,
paved with cruelty.
knowing there is no time
for rearview memories,
no room for maybe prayers,
you place your plow
in that field of flint,
as it bites and jerks,
spitting soil and breaking soul.
don't look back, you whisper,
knowing that now,
hearts must lean forward,
blisters on our hands
become sacraments,
the Beloved Community
is not a pie-in-the-sky fantasy,
but carved in each hope
by hands which refuse
to let go
of you.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

June 1st

”’What I say to you in the dark, tell in the light; and what you hear whispered, proclaim from the housetops.’” Matthew 10:27

there in the shadows
where fireflies flicker and
kittens prowl under the bushes,
where the Spirit whispers
into our timid souls,
and love blows through
the curtains like a gentle breeze,
let us not leave grace there
to rot in the silence
like wet leaves on the ground.
we have been muzzled
by fear long enough,
so let us rise from the hush,
gathering up love’s lyrics
which were planted in our hearts
and set to the music of angels,
so, we can sing from
the rooftops of our fears,
voices like bells ringing
on brittle winter mornings,
for what we heard in the shadows
should shine like sunlight
in the sorrows of the world.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman