it was tempting
this morning,
to grumble
as I walked the dog
in the gently falling rain,

then i thought
of the folks
who would like nothing more
than to be able
to walk their neighborhoods
that are flooded
with water and debris;

it is easy to grumble
about the extra hours
i will spend today
in meetings,

until i remember
the emergency crews,
the National Guard,
all the folks who will spend
18-20 hours a day
for the next few months
helping the victims of Katrina;

if i don't find you
instantly available
for my petty needs,
remind me, Helping God,
that you are with those
who are filling sandbags
and piling them up;
you are wading through
waist-high water to bring
food to the hungry;
you are standing watch
over the children
whose parents are battling exhaustion;
you are with those
who need you the most.
Amen.

(c) 2005 Thom M. Shuman

if i take off my shoes
to serve the needy,
i fear i will be
scarred by their pain;

if i slip off my sandals
to search for the lost,
i worry that i will
never get all the mud off;

if i remove my trainers
to get near your burning bush,
i know that i will leave
bearing a cross;

but you stand there
waiting to wash my feet,
to bind up my wounds,
and to nail your feet
to my sin.

so
i will run
barefoot
through the grace-dewed
grass of your kingdom,
for
you are
who you say
you are!
(c) 2005 Thom M. Shuman

Mark 1:40-42

a stray dog
shivering in a doorway;
a homeless family
in line at the shelter;
children kidnapped
and forced into slavery,
or into rebel armies:

who doesn't feel sorry
when faced with such sights,
who is not filled with compassion?

but who is filled with enough pain
to seek justice for those
dumped by the side of the road
by the world?

who is filled with enough anger
to be willing
to fast
so that others might eat;
to walk
so that others might have heat;
to listen
so that others might be heard.

You are,
Passionate God,
you are!

And you call us
not just to feel pity,
but to feel moved
about ending poverty;

not just to give someone a bandage,
but to bind their spirits,

not just to give someone a handout,
but to touch them,
to welcome them,
to include them in our lives.

We are compassionate,
help us to be passionate.

Amen.

(c) 2005 Thom M. Shuman

on Monday,
i proclaimed you
a pest,
for constantly poking me in the soul
and saying:
'why aren't you . . .
'did you see . . .
'how come you didn't . . .?'

on Tuesday,
i said you were a
'fool'
to imagine anyone
would take up a cross
and follow you;

on Wednesday,
i called you a name
(i won't repeat here)
for letting a gentle saint
be murdered in his church;

on Thursday,
i lament you as
BrokenHeart,
as your weeping brothers
cradle your sobbing sisters
carrying them gently
into a shalom
not yet envisioned.

now
allow me to start over,
and simply say
you are

my Hope
my Comfort
my Guide
my Joy
my Savior

today,
yesterday,
and forever.

Amen.

(c) 2005 Thom M. Shuman

there was that day
(it seems like yesterday
though so long ago),
when i decided
to search for you,
and took a chance
i might find you

there was that path
(so overgrown with weeds
i was sure i was lost),
i was following
through life
until i came around
the bend
and saw another road.
i took a chance
that it might lead me
to your heart.

there was that time,
(i thought would last forever),
when the only story i knew
was the one i wrote,
filled with sorrow and loneliness;
so i took a chance
on reading yours.

through every day,
on every path,
in eveyr moment;
in my confusion,
in my certainty:

you have chosen
to take a chance on me.

(c) 2005 Thom M. Shuman

the car pulls up in front of the house,
the officer and chaplain
get out together,
moving as one
with silence in their walk
and grief cradled in their hands.
behind the living room curtain,
hearts that once leaped
at the sight of their child
getting off the school bus,
no shatter into a million pieces.
be with them, Merciful God,
and catch their tears
in you own grieving heart;
walk with them, Ever-present God,
in the days of emptiness
that lie ahead;
mend them,
God of wholeness,
when they hold their brokenness
out to you.
Comfort them, Tender God,
as only a Parent
who has lost a child
can do.
Amen.

(c) 2005 Thom M. Shuman

[nothing]

not the bureaucrats
or the pundits
singing their seductions
in my soul;

[nothing can]

not life
(my biggest excuse
for not spending more time
with you);

[nothing can separate]

not time
driving me to distraction,
nor distance
which entices me
with its freedom;

[nothing can separate me]

not even death
sitting on my shoulder
(trying not to be a burden)
everywhere i go;

nothing can keeps us apart,
God of the loving heart,
nothing,

nothing,

nothing

no thing

not even me.

Amen.

(c) 2005 Thom M. Shuman

you thought for a moment,
and creation sprang forth
from your Wisdom;

and now
you know my thoughts:
anger that can
crush another's spirit,
contempt that can
drown a dream,
hatred which could
cripple a lover.

you spoke a Word,
and healing came
into death's shattered shadows;

and now
before i can say a word,
you know:
the loneliness
which stalks the night,
the sin
which corrodes my heart,
the emptiness
which fills my soul.

you know all this,
and yet,
you reach out
to take me by the hand
and to walk with me
so,
that at the last,
i can be with you.

(c) 2005 Thom M. Shuman

we pray this morning
for people we do not know,
who have suffered terribly
at the hands of terror:
for the injured,
for the dying,
for those who have died;
for the families, and friends,
and neighbors.

We pray this morning,
on this sad morning,
for those who treat the injured:
doctors, nurses,
ambulance drivers, helpers;
for those who search:
for the injured,
for answers,
for hope.

and we pray this morning,
reluctantly,
but because you have asked us to,
for those whose lives
are controlled by hate and anger,
not love and hope.

we pray this morning,
searching for answers,
for healing for understanding.

we pray this morning
because that is all we can do.

hear us, O God.

Amen.

(c) 2005 Thom M. Shuman

eating lunch alone
at the table by the window,
i saw a homeless man stroll by,
fed on the empty promises
of a forgetful society;

walking alone to the ballpark
for today's game,
i passed a woman
struggling to manuever
her wheelchair onto a sidewalk
which had no ramp;

working at my desk,
while my colleagues
are out celebrating a birthday,
i thought of the little boy
i saw on the bus,
reaching for his father's hand,
which was occupied
with the latest thriller.

Lord who prayed alone
in Gethsemane's garden:

may my loneliness
not be something
i hug to myself,
but the means to reach out
to others more lonely.

Amen.

(c) 2005 Thom M. Shuman

dash a cup of cold water
in my soul, Dearest God:

that i would share
with the hungry of my community
even as i feed my family;

that i would speak
for the voiceless mothers
as freely as i talk
to mine on the phone;

that i would work
for the healing
of the wounded of the world,
as often as i
treat my own pain;

that i would embrace
the lonely
in my neighborhood,
even as my friends
nurture my spirit;

that i would water
the perennials
of love, hope, and grace
you have planted
in my heart,
with my tears.

dash a cup of cold water
in my soul, Dearest God.

Amen.

(c) 2005 Thom M. Shuman

out here on the deck,
in the quiet of the evening,
with the fireflies
flickering through the fading light,
i come to you,
Gentle God.

tired
from another fizzled day,
i would fall into the comfort
of your cradling arms;

overwhelmed
by the noisiness of the world,
i would surround myself
with your healing silence;

weary
from burdens
i have carried too far,
i would offer them to you
to throw into your sea
of everlasting peace.

comforted, stilled, lightened,
i go into the house,
to rest in Spirit's embrace.

Amen.

(c) 2005 Thom M. Shuman

i must admit that,
while not bodily,
i know what it is like
to be cast out
by people i thought
cared for me:
ridiculed by a parent,
rejected by a lover,
downsized by an employer,
gossiped about by a friend.

wandering
pain's wilderness,
feeding on my bitterness,
alone
forsaken
forgotten

until you
bent over to hear
the breaking of my spirit
and my tears
striking the rock garden
planted in my soul

and you
wiped away my anguish
with the Spirit's waters,
lifting me up
holding me tight
in your own
broken heart.

Amen.

(c)2005 Thom M. Shuman

it's easy to see ourselves
in some of the stories Jesus tells,
God of Parables.

The Good Samaritan -
now, that's a role we could
play in your divine drama;

and we are always eager
to see ourselves as the parent
who runs down the road
to embrace the returning child.

But a dirty, homeless beggar
who depends on the scraps
from a table;

a rich person
who fails to see
the hungry at the doorstep?

no, thank you,
we'll just stand on the sideline
and listen to those stories.

after all,
we can't be that poor,
or that uncaring . . .

can we?

Amen.

(c) 2005 Thom M. Shuman
(see the story of Lazarus and
the rich man in Luke 16:19-31)

i long to lay hands
on my loved one
lying in the hospital bed,
and seeing them get up and walk,
healed and restored:
but you call me
to sit by their bed
and hold their hand
during the sleepless night.

i would give almost anything
to make a paste out of dirt and spit,
and to rub it on the eyes
of my neighbor who is sightlyess
and witness her joy
at seeing a sunrise for the first time:
but you call me
to read a book
with a child
who stumbles over the words.

i would like to win the lottery
so i could give the money away
and improve the lives
of all those people
saturated with poverty:
but you call me
to help frame walls
for a Habitat family.
may i take all the ordinary gifts
you have give me,
Exuberant God,
and use them
where you send me.
Amen.

(c) 2005 Thom M. Shuman

it's Saturday,
and i need
mow the lawn,
help me to find the time
to lay out on the grass
this evening
and drink in your heavens,
Wondrous God.

it's Saturday,
and i have
to get the car washed.
Help me to find the time
to splash in the pool
with the kids today,
Living Waters.

it's Saturday,
and my 'to do' list
is getting longer.
Help me
to find the time
to be with you,
God of Saturday
and every day of my life.
Amen.

(c) 2005 Thom M. Shuman

fill me . . .
when i am empty,
fill me with your love
that i might be poured out
in service;

fill me . . .
when i am speechless,
fill me with your Word,
that i would be a voice
for the ignored;

fill me . . .
when i am arrogant,
fill me with your humility,
that i might stand
with those taunted by the world;

fill me . . .
when i am selfish,
fill me with your tears,
that i would see
my sister's heart.

fill me . . .

fill me . . .

till i overflow.

Amen.

(c) 2005 Thom M. Shuman

the car is packed,
the paper is stopped,
the door is locked;
the trip we have planned for
after a lifetime of work
stretches out before us
on the horizon:

dare we throw away the map
and go down unknown roads?

the monthly report
was due 5 days ago,
the accounts do not balance,
the boss is standing
over my cubicle, tap-tap-tapping
his fingers on the wall:

dare i get up
and follow that stranger?

My physician says
it's all in my mind,
the experts tell me
there is nothing they can do,
mt friends and family
insist that i learn to live with it:

dare i take heart
and reach in trust?

Is that a double-dare
i hear, Entreating God?

(c) 2005 Thom M. Shuman

why is it
we always find money
to rebuild city squares,
but not schools,
God of Wisdom?

how is it
that city councils
somehow find the funds
to keep a business open,
but not a homeless shelter,
Wandering God?

can we ever discover
that it is just as sound an investment
to free people from poverty
as it is to offer free parking downtown,
Suffering God?

when will we learn to pay attention
to your teachings about how we treat
the poor, the widow, the orphan,
Tender Heart?

Amen.

(c) 2005 Thom M. Shuman

We remember, Griving God,
those, in so many places,
in so many times,
who have died in war;
and we pray
we might honor them
by becoming your children,
makes of peace to our broken world.

We remember, Mothering God,
children who have grown up
around us in our schools,
in our neighborhoods, in our churches,
and who have now gone to war;
and we pray for children
throughout the world
who are orphans
of violence and death.

We remember, God of Truth,
the wars which rage within us,
the aggression we feel towards others,
our unwillingness to forgive,
our desire to foster divisions and discord,
our discomfort in being called
to love our enemies;

and even as we despair,
we pray for new hope,

as we struggle to see you in our world,
we pray for discerning hearts,

as we confront ancient fears,
we pray for new love,

and for your old, old peace
to be born in us anew.

As we remember,
we pray, Healing God.
Amen.

(c) 2005 Thom M. Shuman