Wrestling with God

February 10, 2018

Genesis 32 records an odd encounter between Jacob and an unnamed stranger as they wrestled through the night. As they grappled together, Jacob reveals his name to his opponent, signaling that although he wasn’t giving up, he knew he couldn’t win. As they are locked in each other’s grip, the stranger gives Jacob the new name of Israel, “Prince,” revealing that Jacob had unknowingly been wrestling with God. Jacob asks the name of his adversary, who refuses his request. Jacob likewise refused to give up, and limped away from the match with a dislocated hip and a blessing from God himself.

Sometimes I find myself wrestling with an opponent I cannot name. It is a most troubling experience, knowing that something is wrong, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. I like it much better when I can name what it is that’s bothering me. Even if it’s bad, at least I know what I’m dealing with. But when I don’t know, when there is this vague feeling of unrest, it is very unsettling. 

That’s how I’ve felt most of the day today. Something was wrong, but I couldn’t nail it down. Early on, I asked Linda if something were bothering her—sometimes I sense something is wrong between us, even if I don’t know what it is. Or perhaps something outside our relationship is bothering her. But when I asked, her reply was that she felt something was going on inside me, and that I was mad at her. When wrestling with an unnamed foe, the struggle often spills over on others. 

What I do know is that when I can’t name the issue, I need to look for what God wants to do in me. And usually, he wants to change my name and make me limp a little. He wants to take me from where I am towards becoming the man he intends me to be—from Jacob (or James, lit. “the Cheater), to a Prince. To do that, he often has to wound me, to make me limp enough to realize with every step I take that God has touched me, and I had better not forget it. I don’t know if Jacob ever figured out what it was that was troubling him that night. Maybe it was memories of a rather sullied past, or fears for the future. But after that wrestling match, none of that other stuff mattered. And whatever was bothering me really doesn’t matter. I don’t always have to have an ‘aha’ moment, as long as there is a limp that makes me know I have been touched by the divine hand of God. 

I’ve had all day to think about this, and as the darkness settles in, I am at peace. I still don’t know why I was so agitated, but I do know God has his hand upon me, which gives me reason for praise and thanksgiving tonight.