wrestling with god

That Ol’ Rascal Jacob

/ Ragamuffingospelfan / Leave a comment

My name is Jacob, and I’m a con-man.

My name literally means heel-grabber, because I came out of the womb grabbing onto my brother’s heel, jockeying for position and power even then. I am a trickster, a deceiver, a huckster, a manipulator, a snake-oil salesman. I’ve been called other names that I don’t care to repeat.

I have a brother who hates me because I conned him out of a birthright and a blessing. Now I get the inheritance and he doesn’t get jack squat and he ain’t too happy about it. His words were something to the effect of, “Next time I see you, I’ll kill you.”

I have two wives because my father-in-law got me at my own game. He promised me Rachel, the pretty one, if I worked for him 7 years. But when I pulled the veil on our wedding night, it was Leah, the one with the great personality. I had to work 7 more years to get Rachel’s hand in marriage.

Now, I’m on my way back to meet up with my brother. I don’t know if he’s gonna want to shake my hand or slug me in the jaw. I know which one I’d do if I were him.

Then I get jumped out of nowhere. I’m wrestling this guy who’s way stronger than me. It’s all I can do to hold on. He says, “Let me go,” but I hold on with every bit of fight I got left in me.

He barely touches my thigh and it goes out of socket. I’ve never hurt so bad in all my born days, but still I hold on.

He says, “Lemme go,” but I say, “Not until you bless me. Not until you tell me who I really am underneath the three-piece suits and well-rehearsed lines and the lies and deceit. Tell me who I really am deep down inside.”

He says, “You are no longer Jacob, con-man, but Israel, a prince of God. Out of you will come a great nation.”

It turns out, this man was God himself. I was wrestling with the Lord Almighty. I will never walk right again, but I know who I am now and who I belong to.

I think that’s a fair trade, don’t you?

Yours truly,

Israel

I am Jacob

/ Ragamuffingospelfan / 2 Comments

I am Jacob. From the very first moment I took a breath, I’ve been a deceiver and a trickster. Even as I came from the womb, I was jockeying for position. My name means heel-grabber and that’s what I am.

I can con anyone. I can talk you out of your life savings for a bowl of chiken noodle soup. Just ask my brother. I am the used car salesman that makes used car salesmen look bad. I am the epitome of the snake oil peddler.

But here I am out in the desert, all by myself. I’ve disappointed my father and broken my mother’s heart. I’m sure my brother hates me and will probably try to kill me the next time he sees me. All my schemes have left me empty and broken inside and I have run out of plans.

Suddenly, I’m wrestling this Man. I can tell from the start that He’s much stronger and faster and smarter than I am. It’s all I can do to hold on. And that’s what I do– grip tight and hold on for all that I’m worth.

He barely touches my hip and it comes out of joint. I’ve never known such searing pain, but still I hold on. Even when he tells me to let go, I hold on.

“I won’t let go until you bless me. I won’t let go until you can see past my deceit and treachery and find the real me. I won’t let go until you tell me who I really am underneath my house of cards that’s falling down all around me.”

He says, “You are Israel. You are a prince and you are the one who has struggled with God and man and prevailed. You are no longer your deceitful past. You are now Mine.”

I see now that it’s good to lose every once in a while. It’s good to wrestle with a God that’s stronger than me, strong enough to take care of me, strong enough to carry me when I’m weak.

I’m learning that God has had a better plan for me than all my conniving and manipulation. I’m learning that love sometimes has to wound before it can heal, and sometimes it has to give you scars before it can make you whole.

My name is Israel, and I will probably never walk right again. My source of strength has become my weakness, but I’m finding out that’s where God’s power really shows up.

My name is Israel and I’m learning to dance with a limp.

Wrestling with God

/ Ragamuffingospelfan / 1 Comment

“Most people think wrestling with God is a sin. They think it’s failure. But it’s not. Wrestling with God is a sign of intimacy because you can’t wrestle with somebody who’s far away. You can only wrestle with somebody who’s up close and next to you” (Jon Acuff). 

I’m sitting at my computer, listening to the sound of the sound of the heavens applauding the majesty of God through the falling rain. I’m thinking about what it means to wrestle with God, of all the things to be pondering on a very wet Wednesday evening.

I don’t know exactly what wrestling with God looks like. I don’t know how it felt for Jacob to wrestle with God– actually wrestle physically with God– and live to tell about it. I do have a few ideas I’d like to share.

I know you can’t wrestle with God from the comfort of your pew with pious words and a lukewarm heart. You can’t wrestle with God and stay clean and neat and tidy. You can’t remain in a place of safety and wrestle with God at the same time. Wrestling means scuffed knees, getting dirt and possibly blood on your clothes, and pushing every muscle in your body past what you thought you could endure.

If I’m wrestling with God, I’m holding on with everything I’ve got. I’m holding on for dear life to the very Essence of Life itself, the One who said, “I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life.” I’m not getting out at the first hint of pain and sacrifice. I’m staying the course and not quitting until I get a blessing.

If I truly encounter the living God this way, then I won’t walk away the same as I was before. Jacob the trickster walked away as Israel, the one who strove with God. The one from whom a nation would be born and from whose line the Messiah would come.

I may limp like Jacob, but I’d rather be lame and have God’s blessing than be whole and miss out on what God had for me. Is that what you want, too?

Thoughts on Fighting From Victory (And not For It)

/ Ragamuffingospelfan / 4 Comments

chariots of fire

Today, God reminded me of something I knew but had forgotten. Lately, I’ve been praying for peace and stronger faith and for strength to overcome temptation and negative thinking.

I think what God was reminding me was that I already have these things in Christ. In Christ, I have everything I need for life and godliness, as it says in 1 Timothy. So maybe instead of praying for peace, I will claim the peace that passes all understanding.

Instead of praying for stronger faith, I will claim the promise that when I am weak, Christ is strong and that His strength works best in my weakness.

Instead of praying for the power to overcome temptation to anxiety and negative thinking, I will claim the verse that I can take every thought captive and take it to Jesus and leave it there. I’m not saying that I can claim a Bentley in faith and I will receive it. I am saying that God says to those who lack wisdom, to ask.

God says to keep asking, keep seeking, keep knocking, and keep wrestling with God until He blesses you. The victory is won. The enemy is a defeated foe. Never forget that. Death no longer has the final word and the grave is only a temporary resting place. Jesus holds the keys to death and the grave and hell.

Live out of the victory that’s already yours and fight from it and not for it. Believe in faith the promises of God not only for yourself, but for those around you.

Pray strong for someone when that person can’t pray for themselves.

Above all, if we are the winning side, we should be the most joyous, grateful people on the planet. Our thankful hearts will be what gets the attention of the world around us who is still looking for meaning and hope.

They are waiting to see someone whose testimony is not just talked out, but walked out, too.