A More Comfortable Savior

Lent makes me so uncomfortable.

i prefer to remain in my 'zone,'
lounging in my chair;
glued to my plasma screen;
relaxing after a long day;
but you would lead me
into the wilderness

into those uncomfortable places
of tempting,
of power,
of testing.

i would like to ehar words
about success,
and praise,
and feel pats on my back,
but you talk about
self-denial;
you mention the cost
of following God;
you invite me (!)
to shoulder
a cross.

couldn't you have sent
a more comfortable
Savior,

O God?

(c) 2007 Thom M. Shuman

Ash Wednesday

yesterday,
i stuffed myself
on pancakes and pleasure,
on chocolate and self-indulgence;
now,
empty me
of all those delicious desires
which make my life (and soul)
so heavy;

yesterday,
i put on that funny face
i call 'me'
and danced through the streets
of temptation and selfishness;
now,
draw me
into those quiet places
where you can reshape me
as your child;

yesterday,
i wore a costume
bejeweled with pride's glitter,
and rainbowed with my silly sins;
now,
clothe me
in prayer
and smudge my face
with your heart's tears;

yesterday,
i chased after the world
into death;
now,
lead me into life
this Lent.

(c) 2007 Thom M. Shuman

You Talkin' To Me?

you can't be speaking to me . . .
can you?

after all,
i am a selfish person
in a culture which
worships the self;

i haven't felt the brush
of seraphim wings
(though my beloved
did caress my cheek
yesterday);

no hot coals
have purged my soul
(yet, there are
those kisses my children
give me);

and it is easier
to pull in my fears,
clean them up
and store them away
for tomorrow
then to let them down
into the deep waters
of discipleship
and servanthood.

you can't be calling me . . .
can you?

(c) Thom M. Shuman