in these moments
especially in these moments
we suddenly realize how
much we miss the human
touch (yes, even us introverts), so
you invite us to reach out
and touch
your wholeness offered
for our brokenness,
your healing given
for our hopelessness,
your love poured out
for our loneliness
when we put on masks
and need to stand
as far away as we can
from one another, you
come and breath
peace on us, so we
might find serenity in
all the confusion, so we
might find comfort in
the midst of all the uncertainty.
(c) 2020 Thom M. Shuman
Wednesday, April 15, 2020
Friday, March 20, 2020
canticle 23 for these times
God is the health care folk
all around us:
encouraging us to stay home;
reminding us to wash our hands
so we can help others be safe;
teaching us how to be mindful
and watch over ourselves and others.
even as we shelter in place,
we will not give in to fear,
for God is with us,
in those who call us and care for us,
in those who shop for us,
and those who treat us.
around a lonely table,
in a houseful of family,
in a hospital with strangers,
God feeds us with grace,
pouring out hope upon us,
filling us with peace in sleepless night.
i know, without any doubt,
that God's gentleness and compassion
are walking right beside us,
showing us the way home
to the One who holds us
in Love's Heart forever.
(c) 2020 Thom M. Shuman
all around us:
encouraging us to stay home;
reminding us to wash our hands
so we can help others be safe;
teaching us how to be mindful
and watch over ourselves and others.
even as we shelter in place,
we will not give in to fear,
for God is with us,
in those who call us and care for us,
in those who shop for us,
and those who treat us.
around a lonely table,
in a houseful of family,
in a hospital with strangers,
God feeds us with grace,
pouring out hope upon us,
filling us with peace in sleepless night.
i know, without any doubt,
that God's gentleness and compassion
are walking right beside us,
showing us the way home
to the One who holds us
in Love's Heart forever.
(c) 2020 Thom M. Shuman
Thursday, March 12, 2020
canticle 95
gospel, country, hip hop,
rock and roll, r & b, classical:
let every genre raise a song
to you, O God.
we will come jumping and jiving
into your living room, clapping
our hands in time to our songs:
for you are beyond words,
and music is the common
tongue to speak of you!
you cradle canyons in your hands
and shape Everests from dust,
you float islands like rafts
across the oceans of the world.
we come running to jump up
in your lap, and laugh as
you bounce us on your knees,
and then sit on the floor
as we play marbles together,
and you listen to our silly jokes.
you ask us to pay attention, and
oops!
we run off, slamming our doors
as hard as we can as if to test
how far your patience stretches.
but
if we put our ears
up to the doors and listen
very carefully, we might just hear
your heart beating slowly,
hoping we would come out
and sit at your feet to hear
your stories of grace
© 2020 Thom M. Shuman
Wednesday, March 04, 2020
canticle 121
our
eyes cast down onto
sheol’s
road, you tip up
our
chins so we can see hope
leaping
over the horizon,
running
our way through
creation’s
flowery fields.
you
help us to stay steady
on
our feet in the gusts of life;
we
won’t catch you daydreaming
you
hold us, and all your children
tight
to your heart, refusing
to
nod off no matter how weary.
you
are our babysitter, our guardian;
you
are a shady oak on a hot day,
cooling
us with sweet lemonade,
showing
us how to use a telescope
to
explore the moon each night.
you
refuse to let the malicious
to
gain power over us;
you
wrap us in your arms
when
we tremble with fear.
whether
we are relaxing at home,
running
errands, facing down bullies,
trying
to stand up to injustice –
wherever,
whenever; here, there;
yesterday,
today, tomorrow
you
are
with
us, beside us, for us
©
2020 Thom M. Shuman
Saturday, February 29, 2020
canticle 32
i
wish it was easier
to
believe that you wipe
all
my foolishness off the slate,
that
you don’t hold a grudge
but
pour out grace on me.
yet,
when i hold it all in,
when
i am not willing
to
sit down at the table
and
share my dumb mistakes,
well,
i
feel so empty, so lost,
my
soul is so parched
as
if i have been in a desert.
but
when i sit across from you,
rubbing
my fingers in circles
on
the tabletop, hoping the server
will
come by with more tea;
when
i clear my throat, start
to
say something, stop,
start
over again and, in a rush,
let
the words slide over to your side,
you
smile, grin, begin to chuckle,
break
out into a hearty laugh and,
picking
up the check, say,
‘let’s
get out of here and
get
on with living.’
we
go out into the bright sunshine
where
i start grabbing everyone
to
let them know that, in you,
they
find that haven of hope,
they
find that island in an ocean of fears,
they
find that shady tree on hot days,
they
find the one they’ve been longing
to
open their hearts so they might be mended.
if
we listen carefully, if we write it down,
if
we watch carefully, we will discover
that
the mystery is really simple to solve –
quit
insisting on our own way,
stop
trying to pull you to follow us,
let
go of all that anger than weighs us down,
and
if we do, why
all
that grumpiness, all those worries,
all
those ‘what will happen if God . . .’
are
washed away by those loving waters
of
grace, hope, joy, and wonder
and
we can holler our hearts out,
we
can skip behind you, holding hands
with
all the other mended souls,
glad
that we finally opened our mouths
and
heard your loving voice in our ears.
©
2020 Thom M. Shuman
Wednesday, February 19, 2020
canticle 99
no
single word describes you,
holiness
of our hearts:
you
sit on the floor playing jacks,
you
walk the sidelines
as
we run up and down creation’s pitch,
you
could boss us around,
but
chose to learn how to crawl
on
your hands and knees just like us,
you
join in the silly jingles
we
make up to give you thanks.
you
gave visions to Jeremiah
and
spoke to Elijah in a still, small voice.
you
taught Miriam how to dance
and
sang backup for Hannah and Mary.
you
listened to every voice,
every
heartbreak, every hope
from
those in Eden to this very moment.
on
mountaintops and in clouds,
cooking
breakfast on a beach
and
sleeping in the back of a boat,
you
taught us your dreams,
you
showed us how to care for others.
you
lean over to hear our souls,
you
wipe every mistake we make
off
the whiteboard of life.
you
step between us
and
the bullies who would taunt
us
until we turn and run.
we
sing your praises over and over,
in
churches and on playgrounds,
in
grocery stores and in classrooms,
in
museums and malls, on boats and bicycles,
for
everywhere we are, wherever we are,
we
are standing on holy ground
holding
tight to your hand.
©
2020 Thom M. Shuman
Tuesday, February 18, 2020
canticle 2
all
you conspiracy theorists,
all
you worriers stockpiling supplies,
all
you politicos claiming absolute everything,
all
those convinced that only losers
wrap
themselves in grace, hope, peace –
God
is doubled-up in laughter,
wiping
tears from their eyes,
ready
to set all those folks straight,
to
knock them off their narcissism:
‘look
for my Beloveds,
my
children,
who
know my heart,
who
share my soul,
they
are transforming weapons
into
musical instruments,
taking
day-old bread
to
make sandwiches for hungry kids’
knock
down walls
to
build shelters for rough sleepers.”
pay
attention – you know-it-alls:
let
your callous souls
be
transfigured by compassion,
your
bullying words
be
turned into love’s language,
your
life-destroying anger
become
comfort for the broken.
then,
you
will find new life
in
my heart
©
2020 Thom M. Shuman
terrific Tuesday
except for the single parent
looking for that third job
to put food on the table;
except for those kids
who will be bullied by classmates
whose parents, preachers, and
political heroes tell them
that it is okay to treat others
in those ways;
except for that elder adult
who is trying to figure out
how to pay for medicine;
except for the people
trying to push water
out of their flooded homes,
businesses, schools;
except for that person
going in for (yet) another
round of chemo and radiation;
except for all those we
too often never notice,
it really is terrific Tuesday,
isn't it!?!
(c) 2020 Thom M. Shuman
looking for that third job
to put food on the table;
except for those kids
who will be bullied by classmates
whose parents, preachers, and
political heroes tell them
that it is okay to treat others
in those ways;
except for that elder adult
who is trying to figure out
how to pay for medicine;
except for the people
trying to push water
out of their flooded homes,
businesses, schools;
except for that person
going in for (yet) another
round of chemo and radiation;
except for all those we
too often never notice,
it really is terrific Tuesday,
isn't it!?!
(c) 2020 Thom M. Shuman
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)