Kaitlyn Newbery

Exhale

Abstract hands reached knuckle-

deep into clay, shifting and 

molding until it took shape. 

Limbs formed from shell, but the

earth knew no pain. Only creation. 

Once assembled, You set him back 

onto the earth from whence he came. 

Separate now. Set apart. 

Deep within your Divine Lung, You

inhaled, drawing essence from 

Your heavenly home. Then, You brought

Your mouth to his. Spirit created spirit and

as You exhaled into dust,

life began. 

Human hands spread arms-

width across wood, straining and

pulling until He broke. 

Limbs tore from shell, and the 

earth knew new pain. All of creation.

Once pierced, You withdrew Yourself

from the earth You created. 

Separate now. Set apart. 

Deep within His fallen body, He

inhaled, drawing depravity from

His earthly home. Then, You turned

Your face from His. Spirit substituted for spirit and

as He exhaled his last, 

life began.

When You’re Waiting on a Diagnosis

things look different. Feel different.

You’re the same, but you question every little thing.

Is my breathing off? Is my vision cloudy?

You’re fragile.

When you’re waiting on a diagnosis,

you try to keep Google closed.

You avoid the MRI report in your inbox.

As if not clicking it would matter.

As if you don’t see the “abnormal” terms every

time you close your eyes.

When you’re waiting on a diagnosis,

you go worst case. You double-check your Will.

You wish that you would savor every moment,

but the kids still drive you mad. He still chews

too loudly. You still need to decide on dinner.

You’re the same.

When you’re waiting on a diagnosis,

you want to think best case. You want to lay it

at God’s feet and walk away. You want to

“name it and claim it,” bathe in Holy Water, buy

into that mustard seed. You want to

tell that mountain to move and cry

“Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!”

You want to proclaim that even if you’re Job,

your faith is unshakeable. Even if He doesn’t heal

you, even if it’s worst case, even if this is the beginning

of the end, He gets the glory.

But when you’re waiting on a diagnosis,

you’re really just scared. You have nothing

to offer. You try to smile. Sometimes, for a moment,

you forget. Until you don’t.

You try to accept your fate, but wait

in the shadows. Like the woman

in the crowd, you pray he passes

close enough for you to touch his hem.

Pray that he heals you somehow without even looking.

Pray that desperate faith is enough

when you’re waiting on a diagnosis.

Kaitlyn Newbery is an adjunct English professor at University of the Cumberlands. She enjoys exploring questions about her faith through metaphors and storytelling. Her works have recently been published by Heart of Flesh Literary Journal, Sunlight Press, Neologism Poetry, Thimble Magazine and ONE Art.