by Kimberly Phinney
I. If there were ruined things, it was You. If the night was dark, it was You. And when the pain was too much, it was You— You and Your mysterious knowing, You in the practice of breaking. II. Like Job—like testing— You stripped him, like me, of everything because You knew about his righteousness. You offered him up because You knew he loved the Giver and not His given things more. Like Jacob—a wrestling— You touched his hip, like me, to make him limp. To give him a new name and to say, My child, you struggled with man and God and have overcome. III. It was His steady hand, this brutal love, that birthed the stars and shaped the seas. And it was His mercy in this holy breaking that saved a wretch like me.
Kimberly Phinney is an award-winning AP English instructor and professional photographer. She’s been published in Ekstasis Magazine with Christianity Today, Calla Press (where she is a contributor), Ruminate, Heart of Flesh, The Write Launch, and Harness, among others. She has her M.Ed. in English and studied at Goddard’s MFA program in Creative Writing. After almost dying from a severe illness in 2021, she’s earning her doctorate in counseling at Liberty University to help the marginalized and suffering. Please drop by to visit her at www.PhinneyPhotography.com