Servant

whatever title, privilege,
or prestige others may give me,
i am your servant, Holy One.

when i look at another,
may i do so with the eyes
of compassion and generosity,
not those of desire
and deception;

when i speak to another,
may i do so with a voice
of wisdom and trust,
not manipulation
and arrogance;

when i am given a chance
to serve my sisters and brothers,
may i do so with open heart
and outstretched hope,
not grudgingly
or worrying about my loss;

when you seek
to dwell
in my heart,
may i empty myself
of all my silly
arrogance,
so i can be filled.

i am your servant, Holy One.

(c) 2006 Thom M. Shuman

House Building

me -
a dwelling place for God?

my roof
leaks
with wayward
and wanton thoughts . . .

my windows
look out on a world
lusting for more
and caring for less;
if any dare peek in,
they will see the same hungers . . .

my furnace
is filled
with the ashes
of dusty dreams
and hapless hopes . . .

my foundation
cracks
under the weight of loneliness,
ravaged
by the storms of sadness.

i would build you
a house,
my God;

rebuild me
instead.

Amen.

(c) 2006 Thom M. Shuman

i would prefer
to be left
leaning against the wall,
shuffling my two left feet,
watching the world
twirl by;
but you take me by the hand
to teach me
the dance steps
of grace;

when i walk near
the piano,
it shudders,
hoping
i will not sit down;
but you take my fingers
and place them on the keys,
whispering,
"play, play with joy, play!"

even with
the biggest bucket,
i can't carry a tune;
but you push me
out onto the stage,
introducing me as
the new soloist
in the Good News Choir.

i will celebrate your joy,
sing your hope,
play your love,
leaping and whirling
in your grace
forever!

(c) 2006 Thom M. Shuman

Dust Shaker

unmoved
by the cries
of the poor,
shake the dust
out of our ears
so we can listen;

uncompassionate
to the brokenness
of our own kin,
shake the dust
off our hearts
so we can give them away;

callous
towards those
different from us,
shake the dust
from our souls
so we can embrace them;

amassed
by years of hoarding,
shake the dust
off our nest eggs
of blessings,
so we may offer grace
to the hopeless.

shake the dust
off our unbelief,
Son of Mary,
so the gospel
might be lived
in us.

(c) 2006 Thom M. Shuman

Whispers

it was only
whispers
at first,
people averting their eyes,
gossip trickling out
the sides of their mouths
about her 'problem';
then came the years
filled with
laughter, ridicule, rebuke.

telling stories to his friends,
trading jokes with lawyers,
asking riddles of preachers:
she heard the
whisper
of his robe's hem
as it brushed
the streets of the kingdom.

if i could only touch it, she
whispered

and did.

in the silence,
no one heard the
whispers
of grace
flowing through her soul,
making her whole.

in the silence,
Jesus tenderly lifted her
to her feet;
'you are well,
daughter of faith,
go in peace'
was the benediction
he
whispered.

(c) 2006 Thom M. Shuman