August 27th

“He will yet fill your mouth with laughter, and your lips with shouts of joy. Those who hate you will be clothed with shame, and the tent of the wicked will be no more." Job 8:21-22

sorrow takes up far
too much room and delight
is like the stranger at our door,
so perhaps it is time
to go back to school
and relearn how to speak joy
once again for, as Job reminds us,
God remembers our laughter
and will let it slip back into our lives—
quiet as a friend’s surprising kindness,
gentle as sunlight tiptoeing
along the kitchen floor,
graceful as the song
which reminds us of
a treasured memory,
the soft moment when
when remember we are still here.
which might be all we need--
leaving the space
for laughter to slip in ,
learning to trust the God
who cradles our tears
longs to put a smile
back on our faces.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo:@Thom-Shuman

August 26th

“If I sin, what do I do to you, you watcher of humanity? Why have you made me your target? Why have I become a burden to you?” Job 7:20

blessed be Job who,
whether foolishly or courageously,
dares to ask God that question
we are too afraid to speak:
‘do we burden you, Holy One?’
and perhaps, in that moment,
grace begins—
not in the pause which just sits there,
but in the realization that
God is not afraid of the question.
for grace does not tell us
to stop asking questions,
it whispers of burdens shared,
reminding us that even when
we think God is not there,
when our prayers feel like
rocks skipped across ponds
until they sink,
God’s heart always turns
toward us, for God loves us
when we are shattered,
when we are filled with rage,
when all we can do is ask why—
which may be all we need
in such moments, to trust
God has not let go of us.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

August 25th

"When many of his disciples heard it, they said, 'This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?'" John 6:60

on a scale of 1 to 10
with 10 being how much
we can love our selves,
loving you is (we hope) 7.5,
loving our neighbors 5.6
(on really good days), but
loving our enemies . . .
does a negative number count?
and while we might manage
a $10 weekly pledge on a
pretty regular basis, and if
we make it big in life, we
can probably stretch to a tithe,
are you serious or just delirious
about giving away everything?
but then, as we grow older,
if we pay attention to all the
broken promises, the hollow words
of everyone around us, maybe
we can finally grasp the truth
that your words, your uncomfortable
and challenging and (yes) dangerous
words
are those which give us the life we
need.

(c) Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

August 24th

"O Lord, all my longing is known to you;
   my sighing is not hidden from you." Psalm 38:9

convinced they know me
so well, they easily accept
those answers of how fine
i am doing, or that life is
simply going along swimmingly.
but i have become so adept
at keeping secret what is
lodged in my heart, i am
so cautious in letting anyone
get near my soul, for fear
they would hear the rattling
of the skeletons which are
not bones and the whispers
of ghosts which abide in me.
yet,
like an oyster farmer who knows
that there is a pearl of grace
deep within my crusty shell,
like a teacher who realizes
that the smiling child who never
says anything in class has
stories which will melt one's heart,
you calmly, patiently, persistently
wait, until we are ready to open up.

(c) Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

August 23rd

"If one ventures a word with you, will you be offended? But who can keep from speaking?” Job 4:2

that old question from a dusty book
seems strangely modern, doesn’t it?
for in this moment when
almost any word can hurt,
any disagreement becomes
a declaration of war,
and uncomfortable truths
are just offenses waiting to happen,
we tend to hesitate.
but perhaps we just need to
speak – but gently as we can,
listen – as deeply as we can,
and when someone
(especially a friend) 

says something
we don’t want to hear,
leave some room for grace.
because usually,
the most loving thing
we dare offer to another
is not total agreement,
but the courage
to speak the truth
and the humility to hear
without getting all bent
out of shape.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

August 22nd

“For my sighing comes like my bread, and my groanings are poured out like water.” Job 3:24

grief can have a way
of becoming our daily bread—
sighs we cannot put down,
memories we cannot pretend away,
words we begin to speak aloud
into that all too familiar silence.
the glimpse of that chair
gently holding absence,
those towels still hanging
on the rack in their bathroom,
the reading glasses on that
unfinished book on the nightstand—
and tears groan from our eyes.
perhaps
when we think we need
to keep putting up a brave front
or force a smile as we
mover through the days,
we can simply bring our grief
into the heart of God,
where even the most silent
of sighs become prayers
God understands
all too well.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

August 21st

“They sat with him on the ground seven days and seven nights, and no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his suffering was very great.” Job 2:13

we don’t always need
the solution to every problem,
or to come up with the
perfect answer,
do the right thing, or
even try to fill pauses
with words which only
amplify the silence.
sometimes
when a friend is going
through a patch so rough
it defies explanations,
or too deep to fill
with multitudes of platitudes,
or even too holy
for us to dare touch,
in that space, maybe
all we can do is
sit in the dust with them,
letting our presence whisper—
‘you are not alone.’
no making everything better,
no rushing to the next step,
no advice we read somewhere.
simply
being there
until the silence
is not so lonely.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

August 20th

“Transgression speaks to the wicked
    deep in their hearts;
there is no fear of God
    before their eyes.” Psalm 36:1

we like to believe
that these words do not
speak about us at all
but
when
we close our eyes
and see the demons
prancing in our minds,
when
we look into our souls
withered by memes and posts,
when 

we dare to walk down 

into the basement
of our hearts where we keep
evil locked in storage,
when
we let those words of anger
swirl in our mouths
like the finest of whines,
when 

we take a forkful
of bitterness which tastes
so good we want
others to try a bite,
when

we revel in the cruelty
we could so easily toss
another’s way—
we know,
oh yes, we know
that truth which seems
ancient is still
fresh as this moment.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

August 19th

 

“There are many who say,
    ‘O that we might see
     some good!
Let the light of your face
     shine on us, O LORD!’" Psalm 4:6

the aide who
tenderly cares for
the medically
fragile student;

the taxi drivers
who work extra
shifts,
their tips going
to a co-worker's
cancer fund;

the young people
who spend their
gap year
with the families
living in poverty

rather than following

a singer around the world,

your face shines
through so many
people!

© Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

August 18th

“And Saul approved of their killing him.” Acts 8:1

let us be clear—
our hands are clean
for we have not picked
up any weapon and actually
caused the death of another.
but in our apathetic complicity
in the face of senseless wars
in which lives are lost
without any apparent remorse,
in our silence
when transgender kids
are mocked and bullied,
in giving up
reaching out to
elected officials because
they never respond,
in simply getting angry
at all the posts/memes/reels
showing all the cruelty,
hate, isms in the world
rather than challenging
the systemic causes—
in truth,
we approve slowly 

killing our souls.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

August 17th

"Praise the Lord! Praise the name of the Lord;
   give praise, O servants of the Lord,
you that stand in the house of the Lord,
   in the courts of the house of our God." Psalm 135:1-2

you nervous parents as
leg jiggling kids get on the bus,
you teachers lining the walks
to cheer them a welcome,
join hands in a circle of joy.
you lifelong farmers and
weekend gardeners, you
lawn care workers and
farmers markets shoppers,
dance jigs in the rain after
weeks of drought conditions.
you who sit by the beds of
strangers in hospital rooms
who don't know who you
are but are in your care,
you first responders and
street pastors who rush
to gather up the fallen,
the forgotten, the damaged,
and the delusional,
sing soft dirges of hope
in the small hours of night.
everyone, everywhere,
wherever God is and
however God is found,
sing from your hearts!

© Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

August 16th

Examine yourselves to see whether you are living in the faith. Test yourselves. Do you not realize that Jesus Christ is in you?--unless, indeed, you fail to meet the test! 2 Corinthians 13:5

we think we
need to show how
rigid we can be,
but the final
answer is compassion;
we memorize the
formula which conclusively
proves the errors of everybody,
but forgiveness is
like pi—
it goes on and on,
beyond what we can measure;
we can write a
lengthy essay on judgment,
but the only word
on the spelling test?
love.

perhaps it is not about
whether we know
all the right answers,
but whether Christ
is alive in us.
so look within.
test your heart.
check the margins
for mercy,
the footnotes
for grace,
the places where
compassion has been
written into the ordinary.
and if you discover
you haven't passed—

remember:
the teacher
is still sitting
beside you,
patiently
writing
love
at the top
of the page.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

August 15th

“When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had been there a long time, he said to him, ‘Do you want to be made well?’" John 5:6

we wait, don’t we,
beside those still waters
that never seem to move—
the hatred which has
no foundation in reality,
the cruelty we so easily excuse,
the polarization we put on
each day as if battle armor,
those mean-spirited words
we hurl into the world
under the guise of truth-telling.
we wait, don’t we—
because healing frightens us
far more than those grievances
which are part of our personality.
we wait, don’t we—
because answering the
simple question means
taking up our mat,
walking away from all
those places we hurt others.
well?
do we really want to?
Jesus is still waiting
for our answer.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

August 14th

“O Lord, open my lips,
   and my mouth will declare your praise.” Psalm 51:15

when we declaim
against the poverty
inflicted upon children,
when we refuse to let hunger
become an ordinary thing,
when we name the injustice
that steals tomorrow
from the youngest among us—
we praise you.

when we sing
songs of protest
against violence and death,
when our voices rise
above the noise of hatred,
when we dare to say
that every life is precious
and every person belongs—
we praise you.

when we cry out
that we will stand
beside the oppressed,
walk with the forgotten,
listen to those
whose voices have been silenced—
we praise you.

for praise is not only
what we whisper in worship,
it is what we do
when you open our lips
and we use our voices
to speak your love
into a world
still waiting to hear it.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

August 13th

“You show me the path of life.
   In your presence there is fullness of joy;
   in your right hand are pleasures forevermore.” Psalm 16:11

we might not find it
on our device or in the voice
we choose for our GPS—
it may be just beneath our feet:
those ordinary places love shows up.
we find it around tables, where
people scooch together to make
room for new folks.
we discover it on sidewalks,
in the chalk drawings by kids
and chats with lonely neighbors.
we hear it in the tough conversations
as truth speaks with gentleness.
we walk it wherever
mercy interrupts safe lives,
hope digs in its heels,
newcomers throw block parties,
and God is walking right beside us
especially when we don’t notice.
for the path we are looking for
becomes plain every time
we choose life for the other.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

August 12th

“But he had to go through Samaria.” John 4:4

there are
those streets with suspect names,
the wrong side of the tracks
even where there are no trains,
the neighborhoods full of the wrong kind.
then there are
those borders set by fear,
the lines in prejudice’s sands,
the old wounds we rename wisdom—
all those places we know
not to go through.
but too often,
grace refuses to take the safe way,
love persists in walking with
the people we step to the
other side to avoid.
so today, may we dare to step
into the Samarias we dread,
and, if we are lucky,
find that watering hole
where Jesus has been waiting
to meet us all along.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

August 11th

"Why are you cast down, O my soul,
    and why are you disquieted within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
    my help and my God." Psalm 42:11

soul weary—
worn out from truth
bartered for applause,
neighbors turning mean spirited,
fear masquerading as wisdom.
soul weary—
from every screen flashing crisis,
every notification full of outrage,
too many reasons to think
love has turned its back on us.
but listen, weary soul—
don’t surrender your heart
to despair’s coaches,
but hope in God.
not cheap hope which
would close our eyes to suffering
but dangerous hope which
dares us to open them wide.
hope in God—
whose mercy fills the streets
whose courage blooms in
everyday people,
whose voice calls us
to build bridges.
soul weary, yes—
but though the world
is wounded,
yet we will hope
because God is not done
with us yet.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

August 10th

"For there is no truth in their mouths;
   their hearts are destruction;
their throats are open graves;
   they flatter with their tongues." Psalm 5:9

they leave little tidbits,
tiny morsels which sound
so enticing, so enchanting
that we keep picking them up
nibbling on them as we follow
the trail of words which flow
from their hate-hardened hearts
thinking that at some point
they will begin to speak those
promises, that truth, that hope
for which we are searching,
until we come to the end
at the edge of the abyss
of yawning nothingness as
they whisper that the treasure
is waiting for us at the very bottom
where X marks the spot and
as we tumble in after each other
they take a shovel to cover us
with all those tiny morsels
of greed, fear, and bitterness
which we didn't have time to enjoy.

(c) Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

August 9th

“If I must boast, I will boast of the things that show my weakness.” 2nd Corinthians 11:30

if we must,
may we not crow about
the walls we put around our hearts,
but of the cracks which allow grace

to tiptoe in,
of our hands which hope unclenches
so we can hold mercy’s bread.
for you are not found
on those stages with minions
holding up signs with your name,
but at those tables where outsiders
are offered the empty chairs.
your Spirit gathers our fragile fragments
like seeds carried on the wind,
whispering that weakness
is not the end of our story,
but the doorway through which
God's hope enters the world.
let us brag, if we must brag,
of Love which still kneels
to wash the feet of the forgotten,
of compassion outlasting contempt,
and the Risen One
who always makes our brokenness
a home for resurrection.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

August 8th

“Now the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common.” Acts 4:32

perhaps the key was not
those folks had enough, but
that they discovered that
nobody should go without.
we keep scorecards of
winners and losers,
but God counts neighbors.
we keep running back
to the world’s fear-the-outsider store
buying lumber, nails, and tools,
to put up higher walls,
while the Spirit keeps oiling
the gates in our hearts, so
they will easily swing open.
for every loaf shared,
every debt forgiven,
every weary soul welcomed
becomes another verse added
to the gospel still being written.
the Beloved Community is seen
not when every voice agrees
but when each hand opens,
not when we share the same opinions
but when we shoulder everyone’s burden,
until no one is forgotten.
that is resurrection’s quiet revolution—
what i call mine becomes ours
and what we once thought
would never be enough becomes,
by God’s radical grace,
more than enough for all.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman