sleepyheads

on mornings when the

warm bed clings tightly to us,

grab us by the hand

and pull us out to join you

serving those shaking from fear.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

whisper

too often,

we choose grumpiness

over graciousness,

whingeing over

whispers of hope.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

grateful

in this season of gratitude,

challenge us, God of hope,

to notice those who

hand us our lattes,

hang up the clothes we leave in fitting rooms,

pick up cups we toss aside in races,

deliver packages to our doors,

and so, so much more.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

baker

may justice not be like

a pretzel, twisted and with salt

rubbed into the wounds, or

a breadstick, so stale so quickly,

but a Celtic knot loaf where grace,

hope, and peace intertwine,

never ending, always beginning.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

raking

if only we could rake

worries, doubts, hates, and angers

to the curb for pick-up,

but we just turn them into

one big pile and keep jumping in,

over and over and over.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

the day after

and now,

let us turn our yard signs

into symbols of hope;

our disappointment

into caring for the broken;

our jubilation

into wiping the tears of others;

and may a wave of grace,

healing, and peace cleanse

us of all our bitterness.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

tikkun olam

when the voting is over,

let us begin to repair

our brokenness with acts

of specific kindness,

overflowing love, and

welcoming arms and hearts.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

mentors

may our role models

become those who give from

scarcity, not wealth;

who give others their warm coats;

who seat strangers at tables

and offer them the guest room.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

neighborly

if we truly love

others, we need to open

our hearts to them,

not just seek to use them as

pawns in political chess games.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

apology

worn out from trying

to win the Angrier-Than-You

sweepstakes, i don’t have

the strength to love you, God.

sorry

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

and the second is like the first

remind us, mercy’s Heart,

that we are called to love folk,

not hurl hate at them.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

help

when people look for

helpers in times of heartache,

we pray they see us

running towards them with our

arms full of hope, peace, and grace.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman  

beggars night

they stand on our souls’ porches,

clothed in poverty, fear,

hunger, homelessness; will

we trick them with empty words

or treat them to life, hope, and grace?

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

it's monday

it’s Monday . . .

shall we slip into fear’s shadows

   or walk side-by-side with faith;

shall we utter bitter rhetoric,

   or whisper of hope;

shall we tighten our fists in anger,

   or open our hands to grasp

   those of the broken?

it’s Monday . . .

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

if

if we speak words of welcome,

not rejection;

if we offer love, not hate;

if we live in faith, not fear;

if we clothe ourselves in hope,

not hubris,

we can begin to heal

your broken heart, weeping God.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

dulled

when dreich seeps into

our souls, you draw us up on

your lap, singing of

hope, wonder, and laughter

‘til we doze off in your arms

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

flawed

in a time when grace

is seen as weakness, may it

become my strongest

character flaw, rather than

hiding it behind my fears.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

rise and shine

convinced dread’s dust bunnies

are waiting to nip at our ankles,

we lie in bed quivering, then

you run Spirit’s vacuum

over every inch of the room,

reminding us, “I’ve told you

not to be afraid, ever!”

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

game on

in this hidden object game

we call life, all the foolish answers

are so obvious they can’t be missed,

while grace, hope, peace, welcome

seem to take a long, long time to

spot.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

dusty

like a dog on the back seat,

first sticking its head out

one window, then the other,

you try to show us how

to delight in the wonders around us,

but we are too focused on our devices

and roll up the windows to stop

your annoying joy.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman