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

May 7th

“'When an alien resides with you in your land, you shall not oppress the alien. The alien who resides with you shall be to you as the native-born among you; you shall love the alien as yourself, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God.'" Leviticus 19:33-34

holes in their shoes or
soaked from leaky boats,
with stories tucked in their souls
like faded love letters,
strangers stand at our borders
while the God of dusty roads
and rooms borrowed from friends
reminds us that
once we were the folks
carried by grace through that
wilderness we would not choose.
even now, as we
put up barriers of fear,
dismiss compassion as weakness,
pretend we do not see
our ancestors’ faces staring
back at us across borders,
your voice echoes from that
dusty book we misuse too often
to remind us to love.
not tolerate, nor legislate,
and certainly, not fear—
but share bread at midnight,
offer shelter from the storm,
open the door to every person
who knocks in hope, for
they may just be bearers
of those pieces of our souls
we left behind
on our journey to privilege.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

May 6th

“Do not turn to idols or make cast images for yourselves: I am the LORD your God.” Leviticus 19:4

no need for gold, silver, marble, wood—
our idols are carved from pixels,
looping reels popping up endlessly,
borrowed faces gleaming
all on the altar of being noticed.
we scroll for redemption as
our thumbs offer restless prayers
through strangers dancing in
that wilderness of wanting more.
we were warned about this,
long before Claud, AI, et al,
yet every morning we worship
at those tiny, bright temples
cupped eagerly in weary hands.
and somewhere,
not trending, not trolling,
not offering clickbait or ads.
not seeking more sponsors
or caring about likes and shares—
God waits,
speaking so softly we must
so softly we must
shut down our devices
to hear the Voice we need.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

May 5th

“"When you are praying, do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do; for they think that they will be heard because of their many words.” Matthew 6:7

bands play polished mercies,
leaders recast grief as slogans,
endless blessings nobody can touch
scroll down our screens,
and even prayer seems eager
for applause, yet you,
God of 2:00 a.m. phone calls
and kitchens serving the homeless
while the privileged sleep,
you listen to every weary breath
not well-rehearsed tongues,
you pay no attention to holy words
trying to build stairways to heaven.
you hear the mother who can
only whisper ‘help me.’
you hear the widower holding
grief’s silence like a chipped mug.
you hear children of war asking
the same fearful questions.
so, perhaps that is our lesson—
to stop filling the air with
emptiness we rehearse
until our speech is perfect
but
to let truth run barefoot,
to know that hope needs
hands, not just a pat on the back,
that love will always be heard
even if all we can do
is whisper it in our souls.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom M. Shuman

May 4th

“But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about those who have died, so that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope.” 1st Thessalonians 4:13

in that shadowy room of absence
we sit, our hands wrapped around
those memories which ache with warmth,
but we do not sit alone.
our tears are caught in the palms
of the One who stands beside graves
and calls love to return to the light.
for even now,
crushed by sorrow’s burden,
hope tiptoes quietly—
like dawn which refuses
the caress of the longest night.
for the ones who have crossed
to the other side of grace
are not forgotten by God,
and however loud grief echoes
in our empty souls,
it does not have the last word.
because love always remembers,
mercy keeps watch,
and the Shepherd walks gently,
resurrection cupped in scarred hands
like a candle lighting the way
through every shadowed valley.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom M. Shuman