November 3rd

“The voice of the LORD
   shakes the wilderness;
the LORD shakes the
   wilderness of Kadesh. Psalm 29:8

when the soft sobs
of hungry children
crying themselves to sleep
interrupt our midnight snacking,
when the whispered memories
of those who are once again
playing childhood games
with friends no longer
on this side of grace
follow us down the corridors
of retirement communities,
when the longings
of immigrant families
cause cracks in
judgmental hearts,
your voice, O God,
shatters the wilderness
of our apathy.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

 

November 2nd

“Instead, strive for his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.” Luke 12:31

in dog walkers
and street hawkers,
in rough sleepers
and mythological innkeepers.
in tax collectors watching
from tree branches,
and neighborhood kids
cleaning up yards after storms.
in all
who put up with us
and those who nudge us,
in the ones who chase
after you with abandon
and folks who drag
their doubts like luggage.
in the grandfather
who lives just around the corner
and the nana sheltering
neighborhood kids in a
war-torn town,
we find your
Beloved Community
in all the wrong places
we never thought to visit
and in all the wrong people
we never deem worthy.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

November 1st

“He told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened.” Matthew 13:33

it is like seeing a video of my Mom,
as you slip into that faded apron,
sprinkle grace on the tabletop
as well as your hands
and gently begin to knead
your Beloved Community into
the dense dough of our lives.
it is there where we often don’t notice—
corners of a kitchen
curled up like a sleepy cat,
the booth echoing with laughter
of a group of aging girlfriends,
in the soft touch of a weary nurse.
there’s no DJ amped music,
no ‘breaking news’ dings,
no shouts of OMG!
just that slow proofing
as hope begins to ferment,
as justice begins to take shape,
as the texture of love swells
into that bread broken
so all might be fed new life.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 31st

All the paths of the LORD are
   steadfast love and
   faithfulness, Psalm 25:10a

using hesed
as your base material,
you lay out
your paving stones
of
grace
hope
wonder
joy
peace
inclusion
reconciliation,

screeding them together
with the gritty
particles of your
heart,
shaping
a path
to your Beloved Community.

(c) Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 30th

“Return, O my soul, to your
      rest,
for the LORD has dealt
      bountifully with you. Psalm 116:7”

noticing the empty
space next to you,
you put your feet
into the cold slippers,
and wrap yourself
in the frayed shawl;
finding me before
the mullioned
window, staring
out into life's
abyss,
you take me
by the hand, and
lead me back
to bed, cuddling
with me until I
fall asleep in your
embrace.

© Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 29th

“’Then the disciples came and asked him, “Why do you speak to them in parables?’” Matthew 13:10

so many riddles,
so many stories,
so many sideway glances
to see if we are getting the point,
we are worn out, Jesus.
perhaps we are like
that soil so hard baked
by all the spin doctors around us,
we wouldn’t know a straight answer
if it fell into our laps.
so maybe,
we just need to stroll around
in these stories, mulling them
over in our minds, sorting
through them like clues in a mystery,
until the soil softens from
the tears we begin to shed,
as we discover, like everything else,
the sideway glances,
the stories, the riddles
are simply grace in disguise.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 28th

“’Let anyone with ears listen!’” Matthew 13:9

imagine—
that it is not the hearing
but that pause between
the word leaving the lips
and when it begins
to tickle our ears.
imagine—
between the first note
of the bird in the morning
and it sinking into
the weariness of our hearts
that a word waits—
a seed tinier than that
mustard seed in Jesus’ hand,
holiness wrapped in hope.
imagine—
all we need
is to cup our hands
like furrows in the dirt
and as silence falls
like gentle spring rain,
grace grows even
if we forget to listen.

(c) 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman