September 22nd

"I call upon you, O Lord; come quickly to me;
   give ear to my voice when I call to you." Psalm 141:1

we sit by the window

with the lamp illuminating

the page we keep reading

and re-reading because 

we keep glancing down the road,

wondering if, like the prodigal,

we might see you coming,

so we can rush out to throw

our arms around you and 

begin to tell you all that has

been happening to us, all

the worries which weigh us down,

all the fears which stalk us,

every word we dare not utter

to anyone else but you.

and all the while, you sit

in the shadowed corner,

a cup of tea warming your hands,

wondering if we will ever notice

that you are not the one 

in this strange relationship

who has drifted away.

(c) Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 21st

"And the crowds asked him, 'What then should we do?'" Luke 3:10

in the midst of the crowd at the rally,
inspired by the impassioned rhetoric
of the speakers, we loudly proclaim
our commitment to speaking the truth,
but we go home, and there is the person
we have known for decades as not
just a neighbor, but also a friend, and
they are posting a sign in their yard
with a message which breaks our heart.
and now,
what shall we do?
remain silent, not wanting to hurt
this relationship, this person, this
soul we have always known to be
as good and gentle as our very own?
simply post our own sign, hoping
that might serve as a statement
of honest differences of opinion?
or shall we take that hesitant
first step, our hand open wide
in peace and trust, hoping that
relationships are stronger than rhetoric,
that common bonds are uncommonly strong,
that truth can be found in hearts
which care more for others
then slogans on signs in two yards?

(c) Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 20th

“Be doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves.” James 1:22

sorry, folks,
but the world has had
more than enough of our words.
we sing about grace,
while refusing to share it
with any who offend us.
we protest loudly for justice,
but build high walls around
our comfort zones.
sermon after sermon
speaks about compassion
and we drive past the wounded
as we travel home.
we celebrate inclusion with
flags, hymns, prayers, signs
but there is always someone
we won’t let into our circle.
so remember—
grace must serve meals,
mercy must walk our towns,
love must cross boundaries.
otherwise, the gospel becomes
only something we say, while
the broken, the forgotten,
the lonely, the silenced,
wait desperately for someone,
any one (!) to do the Word.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @ThomShuman

September 19th

“While Paul was waiting for them in Athens, he was deeply distressed to see that the city was full of idols.” Acts 17:16

so many things around us,
making us afraid to live without them—
boutiques and malls telling us
we need so much more stuff
technology which entices us
with newer, faster devices
politicians who warn us
we have to destroy ‘them’
social media which urges us
to know what everyone is doing
financial folks who warn us
we need more security
influencers who seduce us
with wanting more likes, more followers.
but what if we walked our streets
with Paul’s aching heart and
the compassionate eyes of Jesus—
might we discover, in the midst
of all those well-disguised idols
where the hunger for God
is hiding?

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

nmo: @ThomShuman

September 16th

“I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you;” Job 42:5

so, so many people talking—
preachers and pundits,
politicians and podcasters,
neighbors and naysayers,
all absolute in knowing what
we need to hear about God.
but those who help us to see
God? almost an endangered species.
for God is seen
with the silent sufferers
not in all the shouting,
with those sharing mercy
not in those demanding judgment,
with those whose compassion
sees everyone as family
not as threats and enemies.
like Job,
we don’t need all the answers
but simply to open our eyes.
so may our prayer each day be,
‘shush the voices of all who are
rock stars at talking about you,
God among us,
and open our eyes so that
now, we finally see you
in all those places,
all those people,
we never noticed before.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

September 15th

“Gladden the soul of your servant,
   for to you, O Lord, I lift up
   my soul.” Psalm 86:4

you gladden our souls—
with the cold, damp nose
that nuzzles our hand
until we surrender
to paws dancing on the floor,
to a leash stretched taut,
to puffs of breath like clouds
in the early dawn.
with the full moon
tiptoeing through the window
laying a silver path across
the rumpled quilt,
as if heaven forgot
to shut the door.
with that soft weight
of a sleeping child in our arms,
a hand pressed
against our heart,
as we breathe in
the scent of its trust.
gladden us
with such everyday miracles—
a swishing tail,
moonlight blanketing our partner,
the gentle breath of a sleeping child.
unannounced mercies
from your overflowing heart.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @ThomShuman

September 14th

“Look on all who are proud, and bring them low; tread down the wicked where they stand.” Job 40:12

we enjoy playing King of the mountain,
piling up our little hills of certainty
so we can look down at all
who are not like us
we make out lists
from headlines and hashtags,
rumors shared until we think
they must be the truth,
and those names we call
other people whenever
we become angry and scared.
from our high ground,
we can point at all of them—
the problems,
the sinners,
the fools,
the faithless.
and God waits beneath the smoke
of those bridges we burned,
hoping we will notice
our dirty hands
and that we no longer
stand on holy ground.
maybe the first step
toward justice is not
trying to climb higher
but coming down—
kneeling in that dust
where mercy always waits
for us to remember
we are only human.

(c( 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo:@ThomShuman