May 17th

"Happy are those
who do not follow the advice of the wicked
or take the path that sinners tread
or sit in the seat of scoffers,
but their delight is in the law of the Lord,
and on his law they meditate day and night." Psalm 1:1-2

how blessed we are
when we refuse
social media invitations
to sit at the table of outrage or
invest in cryptocontempt.
for when we step away from
the oligarchs of mockery or
when we will not learn the new
language of bitterness,
we lean towards compassion
as sunflowers to morning light.
we pull the duvet of wisdom
over us before dawn, while grace
rewrites the algorithms of hate
we let our minds drift down
the quiet rivers of God peace,
and offer shade for the fatigued,
pass out fruit for the hungry,
water the deep roots of hope
for a world desperate
to survive the storms
raging around them.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

May 16th

"They will still bear fruit in old age,
   they will stay fresh and green," Psalm 92:14 (NIV)

they are there in the shadows,
silent as a beam of sun
on a kitchen table in winter
their hands paper thin from
decades of laundry, making menus,
pulling on boots for children
who now do the same for theirs.
no one comes over for a selfie,
no paparazzi stalk them,
they just are there, near
the edges of our days—
and yet, like late roses
refusing the touch of frost,
love still fills their souls.
they remember birthdays,
they tuck prayers into
the hearts of visiting family,
they are the ones who knit
mercy into booties for strangers,
they are remember to water
the thirsty seeds of grace.
and God smiles at these
forgotten-by-the-world saint,
still fresh and green in holy ways,
still bearing the Spirit’s fruits,
long after the world thinks
they have withered on the vine.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

May 15th

"For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God – “Ephesians 2:8

we tug on your sleeve—
prayers written on napkins,
worryscrolling on our screens,
hearts determining our value
by chore jars emptied, applause,
and exhaustion’s spread sheets.
and like a cat gently making biscuits,
and God—
like rain gently curling
down the kitchen window,
whispers:
i never charge for sunsets,
when it comes to grace i
don’t look at your resume,
i take hesitant questions over
polished answers every time,
and bumping over life’s potholes
or stepping in misery’s mud
is what faith looks like, a gift
placed in hands sometimes
too weary to carry it.
so may we remember that
when the world expects us
to prove that we belong,
let us simply breathe,
for mercy found us first.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

May 14th (Ascension)

"As I watched," Daniel 7:9a

i wondered where God was
and then i noticed the folks
who were mowing the lawn,
cleaning the gutters, and
painting the house of the
struggling retired couple, and
i knew.
i went down the street
hoping i might bump into Jesus
and walked past the homeless
vet feeding his dog before he ate,
slipped past the kids making a game
out of picking up the litter on the grass,
and stopped dead in my tracks.
i watched the mist moving slowly
across the lake in the morning,
heard the whispers of the couple
at the next table planning a surprise
party for their mail carrier, and felt
the gentle breeze on my face
and realized the Spirit was tagging along.
so, think how much
i would have missed if
i spent all my time sky gazing,
wondering why you haven’t
returned.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

May 13th

"Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ." Ephesians 1:2

Grace isn’t interrupting
our favorite shows these days
or catching our devices’ attention.
instead
it is the weary checkout person
helping the widow count out coins,
it is the nurse putting another blanket
on the patient before they ask,
it is the child who chooses
the classmate who is always forgotten
to be their partner at recess
it is not just a word from
another century or place—
it still breathes in our chaos,
the gentle presence of that
Someone who walks beside us
through fear stacked like bricks
across the days of our lives,
the One leaning close to our weariness
whispering mercy not judgment,
swaddling us with tenderness
when we can barely survive,
finding those cracks where
the seeds of peace may be planted
in the rubble
of an ever-breaking world.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

May 12th

"I kept my faith, even when I said,
   'I am greatly afflicted';" Psalm 116:10

it was faith who
opened their arms
to let me sob my heart out
when my soulmate died.
it is faith who sits

next to me, singing

soft lullabies until i drift

off to sleep each night.

it was faith which 

held my hand when the

echoes of angry voices 

with angrier words turned

my deep sleep into nightmares.

it is faith who whispers
in my soul of how valued
i am when everyone else
mocks and rejects me.

it was faith who came

storming into my room

yelling 'no more fears

jumping on the bed!'

it is faith who has been
my most trusted counselor,
my best friend,
my cherished companion,
even when i thought
i was walking alone.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

May 11th

"Their idols are silver and gold,
   the work of human hands.
They have mouths, but do not speak;
   eyes, but do not see.
They have ears, but do not hear;
   noses, but do not smell.
They have hands, but do not feel;
   feet, but do not walk;
they make no sound in their throats.
   Those who make them are like them;
so are all who trust in them." Psalm 115:4-8

we have created our idols
in the images lodged in our hearts:
the angry whose words
nourish the bitterness
flowing from our lips,
the ones who claim
to see all our suffering
but are looking only
at themselves in a mirror.
those seekers of our adulation
who act as if they listen
to the brokenness within us,
but only hear the songs
of the sycophants around them.
the politicians who clap
as if applauding us but
would push us away
given every chance,
the singers whose lyrics
claim they walk in our shoes,
but drive off in limos
and climb into private jets
when the concert ended.

© Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

May 10th

"It is he who remembered us in our low estate,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;" Psalm 136:23

when everyone walks right
past us because they have
forgotten not just our names
but who we are, you stop
open your arms and shout,
'i know you!"
when we have fallen
about as far as possible
without hitting bedrock,
others stand at the edge
shaking their heads and
muttering to one another,
and you hand them a rope
and ask them to hold tight
as you rappel down to bring us up.
when we are not at work
or in school or sick at home
and gossip begins
to sharpen tongues
to flay our character open,
you stick up for us
every time.

(c) Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

May 9th

'"Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the road is easy that leads to destruction, and there are many who take it.'" Matthew 7:13

polished promises crowd walkways
seductions smooth bumpy roads,
the easy way is marketed
as the redemption millions need,
and flickering screens immerse
us in pools of distraction.
but
there is that quieter path—
as narrow as forgiveness,
as steep as truth telling,
the one too often ignored
under the din of fear,
outrage, narcissism, lust.
Jesus stands at that gate
rusted by so little use,
because the sign invites
us to leave so much behind—
that pride which wears us down,
the certainty which aches our shoulders,
that self which excludes others.
for just past the brambles
of the world, a narrow path
opens into the wide grace of God,
where outsiders become friends,
where enemies have our backs
and where weary souls
find that the hardest roads
are the surest way to find
our way home.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

May 8th

"'Do not judge, so that you may not be judged.'" Matthew 7:1

we flick judgments with our thumbs,
measure outsiders based on rumors,
angry voices, fragments of fear—
for we want quick and easy judgements
and Jesus reminds us to sit
with our own fractured selves
before we accuse another’s brokenness,
to remember that every soul
carries bruises no one can see,
hearts are full of silent grief,
voices choke on unfinished stories
for while judgment has become
our go-to defensive position,
mercy asks more of us—
to listen before speaking,
to walk humbly, not harshly,
to unclench our fist around certainty
so maybe the holiest thing
we can do on any day, for every person
is to simply give space
space for transformation
space for misunderstanding
space to allow grace
to slowly work in each person,
especially us.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman