First Saturday of Advent

“For the Lord himself, with a cry of command, with the archangel’s call and with the sound of God’s trumpet, will descend from heaven . . .”1^st Thessalonians 4:16

in the baby’s tiny

fist grasping its mom’s finger;

in the purring of a kitten

that lulls us to sleep;

in the tiptoes of

a teenager creeping off early

to school each morning;

in every breath

   of peace,

every whisper

   of hope,

every sigh

   of grace,

you come . . .

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

First Friday of Advent

“Now concerning the love of the brothers and sisters, you do not need to have anyone write to you, for you yourselves have been taught by God to love one another;” 1^st Thessalonians 4:9

sitting at our desks,

we carefully write in

our notebooks the assignment,

‘love one another,’ and

as soon as your back

is turned, we tear out

the pages, making them

into spitballs we throw

at each other out on the

playground.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

First Thursday of Advent

“I love you, O LORD, my strength” 

Psalm 18:1

i’m not sure which

is more of a paradox:

that your weakness

makes me stronger,

your foolishness

makes me wiser,

or that your brokenness

makes me whole.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

First Wednesday of Advent

“Hear a just cause, O Lord;

         attend to my cry;

   give ear to my prayer from

         lips free of deceit.” Psalm 17:1

if we ignore the

cries of those we

feel have no cause,

   we will not hear

   your prayers for justice;

if we are not willing

to bend down to listen

to the whispers of little ones,

   we will not hear

   your grace tickling

   our ears.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

First Tuesday of Advent

“Sing to him a new song;”  Psalm 33:3a

with lyrics written

by little children

in bubble-filled bathtubs

and teenagers rapping

about injustices;

with music composed

by a father lullabying

his baby to sleep

and a grandmother

humming a tune known

only to her in second childhood,

let us sing praises

to our God.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

First Monday of Advent

“What to me is the multitude

         of your sacrifices,

   says the Lord;

I have had enough of burnt

         offerings of rams

   and the fat of fed beasts;

I do not delight in the blood of

         bulls,

   or of lambs, or of goats.” Isaiah 1:11

when we pay off

the school lunch debt

of children;

when our hands

are cracked and sore

from building bridges, not walls;

when our care for

the most vulnerable

is costlier than the gifts

under the tree,

   delight in us,

   O God,

   delight in us.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

First Sunday of Advent

“Turn to me and be gracious to

         me,

   for I am lonely and afflicted.” Psalm 25:16

in this season

of parties, families,

gifting, and joy,

may we be companions

for those walking

the paths of loneliness;

may we be comforters

who cradle the

   brokenness

around us.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

new year's eve

as we celebrate, not

with parties, fireworks,

dancing, and wine, but

by living the same old life

in the same old way,

may we sense just

the slightest tremor in the earth,

a subtle shift in the stars,

a breath of fresh hope

tingling our souls.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

bargains

just because

they are continually on sale,

doesn’t mean fear,

anger, vengeance,

are bargains we need

to snatch up before anyone else does.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

how?

God, how is it

you find it so easy

to give away so much,

when we are fearful

we won’t have enough

for our cup of coffee, if

we help someone on the street?

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

brrr

how cold is it?

it’s cold enough to break out

hope-insulated grace, to warm others

frostbitten by the frigid words

of the fear-mongers and isolationists.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

cost

when we see compassion

   as a commodity,

grace as only a tip

   for good service,

hope as a discard

   for the thrift store,

life becomes private enterprise,

not a force for good and change.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

cyber monday

building sand castles or snow people,

raking leaves or walking in woods,

reading to older folks or mentoring kids,

steer us towards all the things

we could be doing today,

offline,

O God.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

saturday grace

not in the frenzied crowds,

but the warm hand of a little child;

not in the pile of packages at the door,

but in the kitten in our lap;

not in the record-breaking sales,

but in the caring of the most vulnerable,

will we find the grace you offer.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

Grace Friday

more than a framed cross stitch,

grace is that worn soul,

patched with pieces of hope and love

gifted by those around us,

stitched together by the tensile threads

woven from the Lamb’s wool.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

fourgrace

more than just a word,

grace begins when we set down

our anger to share hope,

when we see strangers as us,

when we seat the hungry at our table

not just drop off a box at their house.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

grace3

more than just a bagpipe’s

drone, grace is a grandmother

crafting wooden toys,

children’s whispers about santa letters,

a dad humming while making a pie.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

gracetoo

more than just a hymn,

grace is amazing when kids

welcome outsiders,

when refugees start foodbanks,

when felons are offered jobs.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

grace

grace is more than just

a few words mumbled before

rushing through a meal,

it is the twinkle placed in

our hearts by the one across the table,

the smile etched on our eyes

by their welcoming soul.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

this day

may we break our fast

embracing justice;

may we share a sandwich

with hope at lunch;

may we offer peace

to neighbors and strangers

as we settle down for the night.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman