June 2nd

“So I hated life, because what is done under the sun was grievous to me; for all is vanity and a chasing after wind.” Ecclesiastes 2:17

tired—
tired of counting
of achieving
of proving
of gathering life’s wind
into our closed hands.
and we carry all we
have chased here
beneath the sun and
these weary days feel like
sand slipping through our fingers.
and that Old Preacher reminds us
that striving will not save us
that success cannot hold us
that all our work leaves us hollow.
yet, here in this truth which aches
is where God meets us--
not in bronze or stone statues
but in the breath which enlivens us,
not in our portfolios and accounts,
but in the soft embrace of mercy.
and when it seems everything
we are told is of value dissipates
Love still abides—
constant as the rising sun
gentle as our loved ones’ breath,
waiting for us to relax
and simply welcome
such grace.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

June 1st

“Then I saw that wisdom excels folly as light excels darkness.” Ecclesiastes 2:13

as dusk gathers, we take the lamp
fueled by wisdom.
despite its wavering flame
casting soft light upon our path,
it cannot push back the night,
it cannot make a deal with time
or shut our hearts against grief.
still, it burns—
which might be enough
to show the way under us,
the companion in the shadows,
mercy there where the road bends.
if we are wise,
we know we cannot keep
night from catching us,
but we can learn to walk,
eyes open and hopeful,
hands unclenched in trust,
souls searching for wonder,
as we journey through the shadows.
and the One who named
both night and day,
waits for us in each—
in the shining awareness of knowing
as well as in that
tender mystery of all
we cannot understand

yet

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

Trinity Sunday

“Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit ,” Matthew 28:19

today
may we realize you
are not a puzzle to solve,
but that relationship always
reaching out to embrace us.
you shaped galaxies with a lullaby
and still kneel in the muck
of our lives, planting hope
you walked on dusty roads to death
and still sit with us at gravesides,
graduations, and diner booths.
you moved upon waters breathing life
and still dance through locked doors
three voices, harmonizing as one,
three personas, one grace to hold us.
and the mystery we never need to solve—
before we ever needed
to search for you,
you were already swaddling us
in love creating us,
in love redeeming us,
in love breathing through us
now and forever.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

Eve of Trinity Sunday

“Lord, you have been our dwelling place
in all generations.” Psalm 90:1

long before wiggly kids sit on floors
and ‘holy, holy’ rises to the sky,
long before preachers stammer
to unravel your tangled Mystery
and bystanders listen with glazed ears—
you are here.
home to stardust and soft breaths
abode for all who don’t know we are lost,
open door for every moment of grief and joy,
you sheltered our ancestors in grace,
held our grief through empty nights,
listened to every unformed prayer.
tonight we rest on those clues
which are scattered around us—
love which will not step aside
when hate strolls into life,
love which walks with all
who wander grief’s shadows,
love which breathes through us
to bring justice to the forgotten.
and as evening draws near,
we come home again—
not to roofs or walls or floors,
but to you.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman 

May 30th

"Let them curse, but you will bless." Psalm 109:28a

they store up their
grudges to pile them
onto my weary soul,
but you fill me with grace
so it might overflow
into the lives who need it.
they learn as many
new profanities as they
can, especially in
other languages, but
you teach me the language
of love, so each may hear it
without needing an interpreter.
they mock us, seeing others
as nothing but trash
tossed out of a car, but we
are the heirlooms of hope,
justice, and welcome
you would share with
others.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

May 29th

“Where can I go from your spirit?
   Or where can I flee from your presence? Psalm 139:7

in that dimly lit
pub where we hope
no one knows our name,
you hand us a pint, and
wiping down the bar,
you stand, in the silence,
just in case . . .
we sit on the bench
in the shadows of the trees
at the cemetery, so you pause
and lean on the rake, gazing
with us at our love’s marker,
just in case . . .
as we trudge down the
side of death’s dusty road,
you pull up beside us,
open the door,
and offer us a ride,
just in case . . .
whenever,
wherever,
however
we are convinced that
we can make it on our own,
you show up
just in case . . .

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

May 28th

“Thorns and snares are in the way of the perverse;
   the cautious will keep far from them.” Proverbs 22:5

words sharpened by snark,
headlines which never end,
promises which lose their glitter
leaving splinters in our souls,
how crowded are the avenues
of our lives, O God—
these are the thorns
we feel in our impatience.
and yet, you show us
other paths to follow—
walking just a bit slower,
taking time to listen (deeply),
taking on compassion
as our guide on this pilgrimage
while anger tries to shove us off
so keep a watch over us,
Gentle God,
opening our hearts to kindness,
making us wise enough
to recognize every pitfall,
and gracious enough to pick
the paths which lead toward
love,
justice,
hope,
peace,
you.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @ Thom-Shuman

May 27th

“The beginning of strife is like letting out water; so stop before the quarrel breaks out.” Proverbs 17:14

it is just an annoying drip
at first, not falling that often
or so loud that we can’t sleep—
but then
the off-the-cuff thought a friend
tossed in our direction,
that rudeness of a stranger
while we were waiting in line
(rather patiently, i thought),
a cold stare the lover gave
when we had hoped for passion
and suddenly
the drips start falling faster,
the noise slowly slides like
a trombone into a din,
our hearts begin to beat faster,
our blood pressure rises,
our anger is fueled by hurt
and
a friendship
a community
a love
is swept away simply
because we refused
to turn off the drip
when it first plopped
into our hearts.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @ Thom-Shuman