get up! (John 21:1-19; Psalm 30)

my burdens, struggles,

worries and doubts

lie on the floor

    scattered after

    last night's game

        of hide-and-seek;

i had to get up

in the middle of the night,

    changing the sheets

    on the bed, soaked

        from the nocturnal

            anamnesis

                of my foolish

                    day;

most mornings,

    trust hungover the bow,

    mercy hanging in rags,

    hope slipping off the hook,

        i cast out my life,

        only to pull in

            despair's emptiness.

but there you are

down in the kitchen:

    flour all over the counters,

    dirty pots stacked high

            in the sink,

juice poured,

tea steeped,

    hollering up the stairs,

        'get up, lazy faith!

        breakfast's ready!'

(c) 2010 Thom M. Shuman

Holy Humor Sunday

dour-faced

in the presence

    of stunning sunsets;

stricken with chronic severity

while surrounded

    by gurgling babies;

frozen-souled when touched

by the warmth of

    grace;

if we are made in your image,

it's no wonder people think of you

as a grouchy old geezer,

    God of Joy.

       so, breathe on us . . .

fill our souls with:

    laughter which chases away

        the long faces;

    chuckles which wipe frowns

        off our brows;

    great guffaws

        which shatter hardened hearts;

           fill us,

           Breath of sidesplitting shrieks,

so we can celebrate

the last laugh on

    death.

(c) Thom M. Shuman