October 26th

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

it really is so unfair—
we take one step forward,
stumble and end up two steps back
while those so-and-sos glide up
ladders of success as easily
as spreading butter on bread.
we see their groaning table,
plenty spilling from stuffed pockets,
laughter which diverts them from
the sights and cries of the poor.
have we gotten the way to life
wrong all our lives
as if compassion was the worst
investment we could ever make
in this world which rewards ruthlessness?
forgive us,
when we think what we possess
is the measure of your blessings
or mistake the shininess of gold
for the light of your grace.
the wicked may indeed prosper,
for a season or more,
but it is your love which
sustains through all time
and only your mercy
which makes us
and only your mercy
which should fill our portfolios.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 25th

“But Jonah set out to flee to Tarshish from the presence of the Lord. He went down to Joppa and found a ship going to Tarshish; so he paid his fare and went on board, to go with them to Tarshish, away from the presence of the Lord.” Jonah 1:3

oh my, do we know the way to Tarshish—
it is programmed in our virtual maps,
it is number one in our speed dial,
we could get there with our eyes closed,
for it is anywhere but where
you long for us to go.
we dash into our to-do lists,
we lodge in our certain opinions,
we slide into our comfortable worship
hoping no one will mention the unlovable,
we cross to the other side of the street
to avoid that neighbor whose politics trouble us,
that stranger we eye warily,
the hungry with their cardboard signs,
the broken with tears that a whale
could swim in.
we travel as far as we can
from those who offend us,
those we just cannot bring ourselves
to offer forgiveness,
all who just weary us to death.
yet, you persist in calling us—
not to the safety the world offers
but into that gathering storm
where compassion waits,
where grace has our name on it,
where your love will drench us.
so, when we go to the travel agent
to book a cruise away from your heart,
turn us around, that we might discover
those we think we need to flee from
are the very ones through whom
you are running toward us.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 24th

“Woe is me! For I have become like one who,
   after the summer fruit has been gathered,
after the vintage has been gleaned,
   finds no cluster to eat;
there is no first-ripe fig for which I hunger.” Micah 7:1

that hollow ache is deep in us—
for just a little peace for frazzled fears,
kindness to soften anger’s voices,
that truth not yet twisted to feed
the egos of the politicians.
we hunger for bread
yet the world’s tables groan with plenty
we yearn for justice while
the powerful devour privilege,
we long for relationships while
scrolling past the lonely hoping
someone will notice us
this ache, this emptiness, this
hunger is older than any prophet—
searching for fruit among empty branches
maybe the world does have
more than enough to feed us,
but we seek that which truly
nourishes our famished souls,
so come, all who are hungry
to God’s table with the bread of mercy,
cups overflowing with justice,
and love never reaches
a use-by date.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 23rd

“He has told you, O mortal, what is good;
   and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
   and to walk humbly with your God?” Micah 6:8

today,
may we dare to do justice—
standing with those shoved aside
by the powerful and the privileged,
setting more chairs at those tables
for those who have never felt welcomed;
today,
may we dare to love kindness—
not simply a sticker on a car
or a imprinted t-shirt, but
as mercy offered unconditionally,
as bread share generously,
as forgiveness opening locked hearts;
today,
may we walk humbly with God—
not running ahead proclaiming
all of the answers, but stumbling
with all those who falter,
not offering unwanted advice, but
listening for that still, small voice
which always whispers, ‘love everyone.’
for God’s Beloved Community
doesn’t arrive when everyone is right,
but when we all do what is right—
one stance for justice,
one breath of kindness,
one step of humility at a time,
so that, by the grace of God,
hope finds feet.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 22nd

“But you, O Bethlehem of Ephrathah,
   who are one of the little clans of Judah,” Micah 5:2a

coming from a backwater
everyone avoided if they could,
growing up in a village not mentioned
even once in your Old Book,
no wonder you spent time
wandering around with folks
who were diminished by the rest
of society for any, and every
reason imaginable and un—
the little kids everyone tried to block,
the least likely women in any town,
the last person picked for a team,
the lost ones wandering forgotten
even by those who claimed
to love them to infinity and beyond.
maybe we have had it
all wrong, Jesus our sibling,
perhaps your middle initial
is not H but actually L—
for

your birthplace,
your heritage,
your true heart.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 21st

“they shall beat their swords into plowshares,
   and their spears into pruning-hooks;
nation shall not lift up sword against nation,
   neither shall they learn war any more;” Micah 4:3b

true,
we may not carry guns
but oh, the damage we do
with the finger pointing out
all the mistakes another makes.
we do not walk around with swords,
but have you seen the wounds
we can inflict with just
a simple word of judgment,
that subtle thrust of cruelty?
we don’t hurl spears
at anyone these days,
but with those small devices
we carry in our palms,
the sharpened points of
every platform on social media
serves the same purpose today.
remind us, Gentle God,
that we still learn war today,
we just don’t notice it
because it does not fit
the image we have carried
around from all the movies
we watched so long ago.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 20th

“Do not drag me away with the wicked,
     with those who are workers of evil,
who speak peace with their neighbors,
     while mischief is in their hearts.” Psalm 28:3

they just will not leave us
alone.
knocking on our door,
paired with their partner in clone,
smiling broadly, wanting only
a few minutes of our time—
to try to convince us that
wickedness is the new faith,
that cruelty is the best thing
to come along since sliced bread,
that we certainly want to get in
on the ground floor of buying
shares in cryptopeace,
all while planning new tricks
to play on those who have
already signed on the dotted line,
rubbing their hands gleefully
in anticipation of the bonuses
they will get if they meet their quota.
so not-so-gently, take our hands
and help us to slam the door
in the faces of these drones of disaster
and listen to your heart which
shows us the way to life which
is filled with grace, love, and hope.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 19th

I will surely gather all of you, O Jacob,
   I will gather the survivors of Israel;
I will set them together
   like sheep in a fold,
like a flock in its pasture;
   it will resound with people. Micah 2:12

maybe it is the 2 or 3
gathering together.
it could be those
‘hidden righteous ones’
who are scattered only
you know where, O God.
perhaps it is the little kids
on every playground
who make up new games
or even different rules
so everyone can play.
it might even be the woman
who sits on her apartment patio
and casually smiles and greets
everyone who strolls by
even if they never respond.
but in the world where the angry
seem to dominate social media,
in this time when bitterness
has polluted almost every relationship,
in these moments when folks wonder
if there is any decency, justice,
compassion, or grace anymore,
remind us that you always keep
a remnant close to your heart
who will bring the healing of us all.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 18th

“Then he sternly ordered the disciples not to tell anyone that he was the Messiah.” Matthew 16:20

you are but one among the hungry
yet we keep our pantries locked,
you are the stranger we meet
but let fear silence our welcome,
you lie among the wounded
but our prayers are drowned out
by the vast indifference of the world,
your name is always on our lips
but never when it might cost us something—
which is all okay, we tell ourselves,
we are simply practicing what
you told your friends so long ago.
yet, despite our stubborn silence
you are still here—
in all those places we avoid,
all the people we walk past,
in every grief-stricken heart,
in every shattered life longing
to be seen.
for the world yearns to see Jesus
in believers who begin living
as if he were here
and not just a well-kept secret.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 17th

Take words with you and return to the LORD; say to him, "Take away all guilt; accept that which is good, and we will offer the fruit of our lips. Hosea 14:2

O God of these unsettled days,
when anger shouts
louder than wisdom,
when fear builds walls
where bridges should be,
when we have more opinions
than compassion,
and more reasons to turn away
than to reach out our hands—
teach us the words
that bring us home to you.
take the broken sentences of our lives,
the apologies caught in our throats,
the prayers that stumble over our grief,
and the hopes we hardly dare to whisper.
let us bring them all—
not polished, not perfect,
but honest as the ache in our hearts.
for you have never asked us
to arrive with everything figured out,
only to come with open hands
and hearts willing to begin again.
so receive the words we have, O God,
and make them seeds of mercy,
instruments of peace,
and promises of love
in a world desperate to hear them.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 16th

"O Lord, you have searched me and known me." Psalm 139:1

you know the ghosts that
inhabit the attics of my memories
and those monsters of my id
hiding in the closets and under
the bed on which i lay my weariness.
you know those words of shame,
of criticism, of unkindness written
in the dictionary of my mind
and you have heard those love
songs, those lullabies i composed
for myself in the silence of life.
you know those sirens who sit
on the rocks singing their seduction
and you know those paths i am still
searching for in my heart.
you know,
because you love me enough
to want to know me even more.

(c) Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 15th

“Yet I have been the LORD your God ever since the land of Egypt; you know no God but me, and besides me there is no savior.” Hosea 13:4

oh, are we good!
at forgetting, that is—
that you didn’t just bring
long-dead ancestors
out of unimaginable lives
in a time covered in dust’s history
but you come far more often
than we notice to offer
a way out of our foolishness.
forgetting that no matter
how many celebrities or
politicians or influencers
we believe can offer us
that impossible life which
is based on today’s equivalent
of smoke and mirrors,
you still pile grace upon grace,
hope upon hope,
peace upon peace
into our empty souls
as you keep your promise
never to forget us.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 14th

And now they keep on sinning and make a cast image for themselves, idols of silver made according to their understanding, all of them the work of artisans. "Sacrifice to these," they say. People are kissing calves! Therefore they shall be like the morning mist or like the dew that goes away early, like chaff that swirls from the threshing floor or like smoke from a window. Hosea 13:2-3

oh, are we good!
at least at making gods
to suit our ridiculous lives—
so shiny, they catch the light,
so small, they slip into our pockets,
so quiet, they never challenge
the choices we make.
we kneel before the idols of our time:
clutching their power,
feeding on their outrage,
worshiping the wealth they promise
(but never carry through on),
turning neighbors into enemies.
is it any wonder
the morning always seems empty,
our promises vanish like the dew,
our fields of plenty leave
too many of us hungry.
so, call us back,
mercy-stubborn God—
from those gods we craft
to that grace we cannot buy,
to the love we dare not hoard,
to justice too long denied,
lest we vanish like the morning fog,
and teach us to become the people
you have been calling us to be—
not creators of idols,
but makers of peace.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 13th

“But as for you, return to your God, hold fast to love and justice, and wait continually for your God.” Hosea 12:6

in these days when so many
have broken their moral compass,
when the world comes apart
at the seams,
and anger gathers like storm clouds
threatening our common life,
God calls us to come home,
like a parent telling kids
playtime is over.
not so we will hide
under our safe blankets,
but to mend the torn places
with the thread of love,
and weave justice into
the fabric of these times
‘hold fast,’ God whispers—
hold fast when fear tries
to pry open our grip on hope,
hold fast when bitterness
taunts us to let go of mercy,
hold fast when the powerful
tell us empathy is for losers.
and as we wait for that future
God is preparing for us
may we be the love
others are longing for.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 12th

Why is it thought incredible by any of you that God raises the dead? Acts 26:8

why do we think defeating death
is an impossible challenge for God?
this is the One who
had no trouble putting
together the platypus
from leftover pieces of creation,
who tucked golden spirals
inside of sunflowers,
who, like an abstract artist
splashed ribbons of color
across the northern sky—
and we think death would
be too much to handle?
i mean, this is God—
constantly surprising us
with life in the unlikeliest places,
who can coax flowers to bloom
in the ruins of cathedrals,
who whispers spring
in the ear of old man winter,
and writes on the pages
of the lives we think are done

the real wonder is not that
God has trouble raising the dead,
but that we keep forgetting
how much God delights in
bringing life out of all those
impossibilities we create
death may indeed be
the worst word
in our vocabulary,
but has never been
the last word God
knows how to say.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 11th

“Then he said to his slaves, ‘The wedding is ready, but those invited were not worthy. Go therefore into the main streets, and invite everyone you find to the wedding banquet.’ Those slaves went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad, so the wedding hall was filled with guests.” Matthew 22:8-9

it’s a party—
invitations to folks who
never thought they’d get one.
the doors are wide open,
the table groans with food.
the weary find room,
the wounded, the wandering,
even the party crashers
are made welcome.
but we sit at home trying to decide—
our Sunday best pretensions,
our designer label righteousness,
that coat of many excuses
we slip into when love calls to us?
but the garment God offers
is woven with mercy and hope,
stitched with justice,
hemmed with humility—
that sort of cloth
Jesus was likely
to wrap around the forgotten,
drape over a stranger,
worn in even place longing
for justice to arrive.
so dress us for the feast, O God.
strip away our indifference.
wrap us in your grace.
then send us from your feast
wearing what we have received—
a love which fits every neighbor,
the welcome which is always in style.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 10th

“You have plowed wickedness, you have reaped injustice, you have eaten the fruit of lies. Because you have trusted in your power and in the multitude of your warriors,” Hosea 10:13

we use injustice as our plow,
sowing seeds of fear,
and then wonder why only sorrow grows.
we make sure anger’s thistles
receive as much water as needed,
and build fences as high as we can
to keep the outsiders out.
we place trust in might,
use wealth to wield power,
cling to the certainty
of those truths we create—
while the soils of our souls
hardens and cracks from
the drought of compassion.
still
you hand out seeds of grace
showing us a better way to plant—
sowing kindness not cruelty,
scattering justice not oppression,
planting peace in war’s fallow fields
continue to turn us, God,
that what we dare to plant
might be worthwhile for the community
you imagine for all your people.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman 
Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 9th

“When a great crowd gathered and people from town after town came to him, he said in a parable:” Luke 8:4

the algorithm knew everything—
the posts which would feed its anger,
the stories which just had to be true,
the ads which would max out its credit,
those voices which could incite a mob,
the confirmation that everyone thought the same.
oh yes,
the algorithm knew everything
about everybody—
except the name of the one
sitting next to it in church,
except how lonely the widow
it greeted every evening was,
except what the favorite book
of the librarian who assisted it
every time it walked through the doors.
then one week
the preacher urged
‘love your neighbor’
and the algorithm immediately
opened its search engine—
‘best neighbors near me’

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 8th

“God is a refuge for us.” Psalm 62:8c

when fear
sends us running
through streets
we no longer recognize,
when doors
we thought would open
close quietly
behind us,
and the world
pulls its curtains
against our cries—
you do not
turn away.
you stand
in the doorway,
arms open,
your heart
a shelter
wide enough
for all of us—
reminding us
that refuge
is not a place
we must find,
but a love
that has already
found us.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 7th

“For they sow the wind, and they shall reap the whirlwind.” Hosea 8:7a

we sow fear—
words sharp as weapons,
truth twisted to suit us,
anger’s seeds scattered across
the lives of our neighbors.
we sow suspicion
and wonder why trust
does not blossom,
we sow cruelty
and do not understand
as its harvest comes
roaring down our streets.
as the prophet warned:
wind fraught with bitterness
does not simply blow itself out—
it gathers,
it rises,
becoming a whirlwind.
yet, you call us, God
to other fields—
mercy replacing malice,
peace planted where once
there was a bumper crop of pride,
compassion instead of contempt.
so may we learn that
what we plant today
is the harvest our children
will gather tomorrow.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman