A Fragrant Offering

because we have
preserved our joy
in manna jars
for the long winter of despair
and stored them
in the dark corners of our soul,
we have forgotten
its gritty taste;

because we have
put a tight lid
on our grace
and put in the back
of the pantry,
we have forgotten
how it can tickle our noses;

because we are so busy
prattling pious platitudes
about the poor, the least, the lost,
we ignore your words
which anoint them
as your children;

because we have
put up the shutters
and storm doors
to keep your future
from sneaking in,
we have missed
the sweet breeze
carrying your hope
to us;

because we are
who we are,
restore us, O God,
and make us
a fragrant offering
to the world.

(c) 2007 Thom M. Shuman

hungering

Abba:
hungering for more
that we deserve,
we demand our way
and you give it.

we stuff ourselves
on the empty husks
of pleasure and selfishness,
our shallow souls
hungering for more;

we party our way through life,
awakening in sin's gutters,
our hollow hearts
hungering for more;

then
stumbling and stammering,
we hunger to find
our way back to you -

where
you fling wide
heaven's doors,
dragging your stainless robe
through the litter of our sin,
running
to sweep us up
in your arms
and carry us home

where we will hunger
no more.

Abba.

(c) 2007 Thom M. Shuman

in this life

on those days
when i hunger
for some people to be hurt
the way they've hurt me,
i feed eagerly at the banquet
of judgment and retribution
proclaimed by some;
yet you offer me
an abundant feast of what is good:
loading my plate with a mound of mercy,
pouring grace over it
and asking me to pass it on
to my worst enemy.

in those moments
when i am so dehydrated
by not having my desires met
that i drink deeply from the fountains
of self-pity and pettiness,
you turn the handle of hope,
filling that dented cup of compassion
you have had since the beginning of time,
and hand it to me, saying,
'Drink up! It's good for you!"

in this life
where it seems
i never get enough of me,
help me to seek
to get enough of you, O God;

help me.

(c) 2007 Thom M. Shuman

yet . . .

in this season of holiness,
in that unholy mess i call life,

i yearn for your face, O God,
but i see only the anger
of those who rush by me;

i hunger for your word of hope,
only to be deafened
by the voices of bitterness
on talk shows;

i ache for your healing touch,
as i am bitterly gripped
by doubt and despair;

i thirst for someone who
will gather up my brokenness
and shape me into your peace,
but find few guides
in this maddened culture.

yet . . .
in the laughter of children,
in the gentle encouragement of a teacher,
in the comforting laps of grandparents,
in the mentoring hope of a teenager . . .

i believe we can see
your goodness.

Blessed are those who come in your name,
O Lord,
even to me.

(c) 2007 Thom M. Shuman

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

what to do, what to do?

we don't know
what to do with you,
Jesus!

home from college
on spring break,
you stand up in church
and read the scriptures
with such wonder and awe,
all we can do is nudge one another:
'I had him in kindergarten,
he was always ahead of everyone else!'
'he was always helping the younger kids
when he was in youth group."

We can hardly wait to hear
your sermon . . . until
you start talking about
how we are
to welcome the immigrants,
to open the jail doors,
to give more to those
who will only squander it.
Then we whisper (in a stage voice):
'whose bright idea was it
to ask him to preach?'
'somebody out to throw him out
on his keester!'

and so,
we close our hearts to you,
and let you slip through
our souls,
as you go to fulfill
God's hopes for us,
wishing we would follow you
on that winding road
of grace.

(c) 2007 Thom M. Shuman

Which three?

"...Now faith, hope and live abide, these three..."

doubt moves in
and props its feet
at the hearth of my soul,
warming them
on the coals of my unbelief;
while faith
rents space
for a few days
in the summers of my life.

despair is the frayed,
soft corduroy jacket
that fits comfortably
on my shoulders
while hope
is a hair shirt
i resist wearing.

impatience is the face
i put on
each morning
in order to greet the world,
while love
is that mask
i wear occasionally,
removing it
when i look in the mirror,
not recognizing myself.

which three will abide in me, O God?

which three?

Amen.

(c) Thom M. Shuman

words

i can go through
a couple of hankies
at a movie
or while reading
certain books

but

i cannot remember
when i last
(if ever)
wept
after hearing your words,
God of every language.

am i indifferent
bored
too stressed
exhausted . . .

is my heart hardened,
my soul shriveled;
do my ears recoil
as words such as yours?

perhaps
is should weep
because
i don't . . .

May the words of your mouth
shatter the complacency
of my heart,
my Strength,
my Joy,
my Redeemer.
Amen.

(c) 2007 Thom M. Shuman

for my sake

why do i have trouble
telling others about you,
Steadfast Heart?

others call me names,
but you whisper
softly
into my heart
'You are My Delight,"
cradling me in the palm
of your hand
like a precious gift.

running on empty,
the arctic chill of loneliness
cracking my heart,
my soul parched by despair,
you touch my lips
with living water,
resting me in the oasis
of your grace.

you give me gifts
until my life brims over,
and then challenge me:
'now, pour yourself out
for my children.'

for my sake
(and for the sake of others)
i will not keep quiet
but shout to the world:
'you won't believe
what God
is doing . . .!'

(c) 2007 Thom M. Shuman

now what

now what will you do
with those gifts?

now what will you do
with that love
God has given to you -
to share with those
you don't like?

now what will you do
with that hope
God put under the tree -
can you pass it on
to a despairing neighbor?

now what will you do
with that joy
you didn't expect -
hoard it all for yourself
or hand it to a grieving widow?

now what will you
do with that grace
God stuck in your stocking -
leave it there
or find the stranger who needs it?

now what will you do
with all that forgiveness
God has given to you
in the Babe -
throw it out
with the wrapping paper
or offer it to the one
who has hurt you so much?

now
that Christmas is over,
what will you do?

(c) 2006 Thom M. Shuman

Micah 5:2

Micah 5:2a

did you worry
you should have
sent another prophet;
or did you want to
send your Best
for the least?

did you wonder
if you had chosen
the wrong route
to our souls,
or were you so determined
to find the lost
that you took that first step
anyway?

did you have any doubts
about the family,
the location, the timing,
you had chosen -
or was the first thing
on your mind
that sign to the last
of the world?

did it cross your mind
to place the Gift
under the tree
of the powerful and wealthy,
the wise and successful;
or did you just know
the little
would open it carefully
and cradle it in their hearts?

(c) 2006 Thom M. Shuman

if you came
with a fistful of anger,
who could endure?

but you come
with open hands,
eager to grasp our own
in love.

if you came
with the fire of judgment,
who could endure?

but you come
with the light of grace
to show us the way.

if you came
hardened against our sin,
who could endure?

but you come
holding us in your heart,
so we might have life,

if you came
bearing bad news,
we might be able to handle it . . .

but can we endure
the gift
of good news?

even so,come,
Lord Jesus,
come.

(c) Thom M. Shuman

but you came

if you came in the spring,
we could expect newness,
bright flowers
to soften your path,
the songs of birds
to herald your coming:

but you came
in winter's despair,
the chill of complacency
settled upon us.

if you came in the summer,
we could expect you
to be bronzed,
blonde,
stepping from the sea:

but you came
in a stable
a wrinkled baby
with animals for midwives,
and angels your playmates.

help us to set down
our parcels of expectations
to reach down and scoop
you up in our arms,

your laughing breath
giving us life.

Amen.

(c) Thom M. Shuman

truth?

what is truth?

kings are old,
or dead:
dust collecting on
history's bookshelf;

so,
why would we need
kings
(or 'constitutional monarchs')
in this day of ipods/mp3s,
lightning fast email,
instant connect with anyone,
anywhere,
anytime
in the world?

what is truth?

truth is a commodity
traded to the highest bidder;
truth is a documentary
based on a novel;
truth is what comes out
of the end of a gun;

what is truth?

Truth is who you are,
Jesus
(who would be enthroned
in my heart, if I only would
let you),
as we discover
chasing to catch up with you:
and Truth is what you do,
on the cross,
dying for Pilate,
for Israel,
for feckless disciples,
for me.

(c) 2006 Thom M. Shuman

You love us beyond imagination
and forgive us beyond our wildest hopes;
you withhold nothing from us,
but grace us with everything we need.
You guide us when we stumble off
the paths which lead to right living,
you pull us to our feet
when we trip over our sins.
You feed us from the bounty of your joy,
and keep us close to your heart
when we are fearful of the future.
Words of thanksgiving can never express
all which you have done for us,
God of goodness and mercy,
and so, we lift our praise to you
in joy and hope.

thanks

Let us give thanks to the Lord,
telling of God's wonders.

We will tell our families of what God has done;
we will share the stories of grace and hope.

Let us give thanks to the Lord,
singing songs of joy to God.

We will tell our neighbors of how God has touched us,
we will share stories of renewal and healing.

Let us give thanks to the Lord,
praising the One to whom we belong.

We will tell others of God's presence in our lives;
we will share the goodnesss which has been given to us.

(c) 2006 Thom M. Shuman

no easy thanks

it will be easy
to be filled with gratitude
for friends and family
as we gather together:
so make us mindful
of the lonely,
the friendless,
the forgotten.

it will be easy
to lift a prayer of thanks
as i carve the turkey
this week:
so give me the words
to speak out
for the mother in Darfur
cradling her hungry child
in her arms.

it will be easy
to be filled with hope
as we take a long walk
after such a big meal,
and enjoy the freedom to do so:
so help us to remember
those held captive
by violence and war,
by addiction and pain,
by brokenness and despair.

it would be easy
to simply give thanks:
so intensify my compassion,
broaden my concern,
enlarge my heart
with your grace.

(c) 2006 Thom M. Shuman

risky business

You ask me to take a risk,
O God,
but i am not that sort:
i've always played it safe,
and sensible.

it it is cold and wet outside,
i make sure i bundle up;
after all,
i can't risk missing work
because of a cold, can i?

when i pull into traffic,
or cross the street on foot,
i hesitate just a moment,
look both ways first,
(so i won't risk getting hurt).

when i work in the yard,
or risk playing with the tools
in my garage,
i handle them very carefully:
they might bite!

and when it comes to my money,
i am very frugal
and practical
(i think!)
so my future is not at risk.

now,
You ask me to take a risk,
O God,
to consider letting go,
to ponder giving more,
to think about stepping
forth into your risk future:
in faith.


(c) 2006 Thom M. Shuman