August 4th

“How long will you assail a person,
   will you batter your victim, all of you,
   as you would a leaning wall, a tottering fence?” Psalm 62:3

try your best,
all you murmurers of anger,
hurling your words like lashing rain
against the weary!
stand there, arms folded,
your arrogance pressing like boots
on those knocked down by despair.
the ones who are already shattered
into a thousand-piece puzzle
don’t need your breath
to bend them, they can barely stand.
but like flowers tenaciously clinging
to the remains of ruined abbeys,
grace blooms in our fractures
and God—
yes, God!—
gently holds us up
like that fence a farmer
will not let crumble.
so, rage and bluster and threat
for as long as you want,
but remember—

we lean on love.
we lean on love.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

August 3rd

“If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord; so then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s.” Romans 14:8

like a thief,
grief sneaks in—
but not to steal anything,
just sitting beside us
with hands folded quietly,
eyes brimming with memories.
with silent sighs, we whisper
in the emptiness where laughter
used to reside.
yet even there,
in that echoless hush,
we are not alone.
so then, whether we hold each breath
afraid it will tumble into sobs
or simply offer it back,
we are held in God’s grace
which never lets us go.
those we hold in our shattered hearts
are not lost, not forgotten,
and neither are we.
now and always, we belong
to the One who
waits with us
weeps with us
walks with us.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

August 2nd

“O God, you are my God; I seek you;
   my soul thirsts for you;
my flesh faints for you,
   as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.” Psalm 63:1

like a kitten tracking shadows
across a barren floor,
with each quivering breath
cradling too many tears to count,
i seek you
as i make my way, trying to avoid
the quicksand of grief.
shattered in pieces, parched by loneliness,
my soul longs for just a sip
of your grace, your peace, your life.
like a removal firm,
grief tries to empty one of
every memory
every moment
every touch.
yet,
as those arid winds whistle
through the echoes of night,
i remember your love
which cradles me, even when
i toss and turn, and so
i look for you to come
as dew on desert sands,
as hope’s whisper
in the silence of grief.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

August 1st

“But I, O Lord, cry out to you;
   in the morning my prayer comes before you.
O Lord, why do you cast me off?
   Why do you hide your face from me?” Psalm 88:13-14

i jerk awake—
the dry tickle of a prayer
threatening to become a hacking
cough, a cry thrown out into
the silence dawning around me.
i stretch out my hand,
but the door to your heart
seems padlocked and the key
slipped out of my pocket, and
so my words turn into dust bunnies
searching for a minyan under the bed.
why does it seem that you choose
to break off our relationship, and
you are signing up on one
of those dating apps, in search of another.
i really don’t want any answers,
just you—
your warm hand placed upon
my chilled soul, so that i know
that even if it seems that
silence is the answer offered,
there is the whisper of grace
just longing for me to listen.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

July 31st

“Let me hear of your steadfast love in the morning,
for in you I put my trust.
Teach me the way I should go,
for to you I lift up my soul.” Psalm 143:8

now
in the silence of loneliness
as the world wobbles around us,
we offer our lives to you,
weary from too many doubts
wrinkled from fretting over fears
longing to remember those simple lessons
we learned from you so long ago,
that we might use them as quiet chants
to cradle us through the night
until
with a gentle nudge
and a breath of wonder,
that tenderness which knows no ending,
awakens us with grace streaming
through the slats of our hearts
and we can once again walk
in the Light of your yes.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

July 30th

"By awesome deeds you answer us with deliverance,
O God of our salvation;
you are the hope of all the ends of the earth
and of the farthest seas." Psalm 65:5

while lightning wakes the cat
and thunder rattles our fears,
it is in the shawl of mercy
wrapped around our weariness
that hope tiptoes in.
not loud, not threatening,
but dew on parched dreams
or a sigh which finally
escapes our souls.
God of distant shores
and alleys too crowded
to hold our dreams,
wrap your grace around
all the havoc which weighs us down,
so that in that empty lobby of life,
in the valley of grief we wander,
your love is in each thin space—
unshaken, unchanging, unafraid—
inviting us to hope,
not so much in what might be
but in the One who came
and always comes,
one whisper of peace
one gentle touch
one quiet grace
at a time.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

July 29th

”But he answered them, “’You give them something to eat.’” Mark 6:37a

in the pantry, we whisper
as we count how many loaves
we do not have, rather than
noticing what is on the shelves,
but Jesus ignores what we lack
and notices what we have –
the aching hearts,
the sore hands,
the pockets full of grace
we thought we had already spent.
while we are huddled
praying for miracles,
he hands us baskets,
empty baskets –
but then, fear is broken,
hope is multiplied,
compassion takes human form
in hands that dare to give
when everything tells us
to hold tight to what we have
and we discover,
in the giving,
that we have more than
enough,
always
more than enough.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

July 3rd

“The snares of death encompassed me;
   the pangs of Sheol laid hold on me;
   I suffered distress and anguish.
Then I called on the name of the LORD:
   “O LORD, I pray, save my life!” Psalm 116:3-4

it isn’t as dramatic
as it is in movies—
just the thread of life
unraveling like a sweater
picked at by a bored child
when they think no one
is paying any attention.
and those pangs?
not like being wrapped
in dungeon’s chains,
but that vise which
slowly squeezes hope
out of us as we sit across
from the doctor.
and yet,
with that breath that was
lying there in the bottom
of our empty souls,
we can offer our
scattered, stumbling,
out-of-the-depths-honest
words which you gather up
and in response, offer grace
breaking in as swift as light
on creation’s very first morning.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

July 2nd

"You will not fear the terror of the night,
   or the arrow that flies by day,
or the pestilence that stalks in darkness,
   or the destruction that wastes at noonday.” Psalm 91:5-6

though the shadows of fear
seek to wrap around us
and the narcissist’s breath
longs to suck our souls,
we will not flinch—
for somewhere, there
in the pause between
the tick-tocks of time,
is that breath of God
gently singing out names.
when the rumor mongers
come sidling up next
to our peace like serpents
looking for warmth on cold nights,
we will not flinch—
for grace comes into our hearts,
setting up compassion’s camp,
making s’mores out of hope
and pieces of left-over bread.
though every moan of the wind
and creak in the middle hours
pull us out of our already
restless efforts to sleep,
we will not flinch—
for you gently spread
your wings of love over us
to keep us safe,
in every moment.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman