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 

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