(This post’s a little longer today, so
grab a cup of tea or coffee and continue with me on this journey…)
And he arose that night and took his two
wives, his two female servants, and his eleven sons, and crossed over the ford
of Jabbok. He took them, sent them over the brook, and sent over what he had.
Then Jacob was left alone; and a Man wrestled with him until the breaking of
day. Now when He saw that He did not prevail again him, He touched the socket
of his hip: and the socket of Jacob’s hip was out of joint as He wrestled with
him. And He said, “Let Me go, for the day breaks.”
But he said, “I will not let You go unless You bless me!”
So He said to him, “What is your name?”
He said, “Jacob.”
And He said, “Your name shall no longer be called Jacob,
but Israel; for you have struggled with God and with men, and have prevailed.
Then Jacob asked saying, “Tell me Your name, I pray.”
And He said, “Why is it you ask about My name?” And He
blessed him there.
So Jacob called the name of the place Peniel: “For I have
seen God face-to-face, and my life is preserved.” Just as he crossed over
Penuel the sun rose on him, and he limped on his hip. (Genesis 32:22032)
_____________________________________
So let me set the stage for this
passage:
Old Jacob is an unhappy, terrified
man, which means he’s probably depressed too. (Everyone gets depressed to some
degree when they think their life is out of control. Out of their control, anyway.)
Twenty years earlier Jacob had deceived
his father, “stole” his brother Esau’s birthright blessing and had to run for
his life when Esau threatened to hunt him down and kill him. Jacob runs to his
Uncle Laban’s and, to shorten a long story, has the tables turned on him when Laban
pulls a bait-and-switch with the daughter Jacob was to marry.
Uncle Laban continues to lie to and take
advantage of Jacob, and, after twenty years, Jacob finally pulls up his tent
stakes and flees town—and Uncle Laban—and heads back home.
That means Jacob will have to
confront Esau. And he’s terrified about it.
Jacob has come to the end of his
rope. He’s old, he’s tired. He’s run out of schemes. He’s got Esau in front of
him and Uncle Laban behind him. He spent much of his life manipulating,
deceiving and running, (and stealthily acquiring a vast assortment of tangible
wealth), but now he’s spent— physically, emotionally. Spiritually.
And there’s Someone who knows it.
He’s been waiting years for Jacob to finally throw in the towel. And He’s right
there when it happens.
God’s been following Jacob. Wherever
Jacob’s run, God’s been right behind him. Whatever Jacob’s done, God’s been
watching.
Jacob has finally run out of ideas
and wits. He’s run out of self.
And that’s when he struggles with
God. And in his struggling, he finally gives in, relinquishes, and begs God for
His blessing. He knows he can no longer live a double-minded life, and he’s
determined to not go on this time
without God. Oh sure, he’d praised God for God’s blessings plenty of times,
even built a nice rock altar to God after a prophetic dream he had. But he’d
never truly turned his heart and all of
his life—and his future—over to God. He always stubbornly relied on his own
brains and abilities.
And God asked Jacob his name. Do you
really think God didn’t know his name? He knew it. It means “supplanter,” and I
think in making Jacob say his name aloud must have made Jacob think hard about
what his name meant, and how he, sadly, had lived up to that moniker. His life
had fulfilled the meaning. And it must have saddened him to say it aloud, to
hear it ring back in his ears.
But God doesn’t want to leave Jacob
there. He wants to not only change Jacob’s heart but also change Jacob’s name,
and in so doing, change Jacob’s life and legacy.
But take note: In this turning over,
Jacob’s permanently wounded. He walked and ran before; now he limps. It’s the
mark of God on his life, a permanent reminder to whom he belongs and with Whom
he’s been battling. He’ll never forget that day, that moment.
So what does all of this have to do
with me, with my story? With yours?
I mentioned in my last post that I
needed to return to the location of my Peniel—the place where it at least felt as though I’d wrestled
with God and seen Him face-to-face. The place where I’d been injured and left
with a permanent “scar,” physically and psychologically. Like Jacob, I was worn
out, depleted, done, at the bottom. Self had run out, and I needed to admit it.
So many years ago I’d abruptly
averted my face after a real encounter with God and looked beyond His
countenance, over His shoulder, to where the light wasn’t so bright and
blinding. So exposing. Many times I’d
swiftly pivoted and run from it. Now it was time to double-back and face its
fullness. It was time to fully relinquish my heart to God and allow Him to take
control of my life, without reservation. To
hold on and beg for His blessing.
I’d tasted what the world offered,
and it only provided fleeting fun, shallow promises, repeated calamity,
heartache, and a painful, destructive path. And Satan had been vociferously
triumphant as he left parts of me strewn at intervals along that path. No more.
The prodigal daughter wanted to go
home.
When I finally gathered courage to
gaze fully into God’s presence, I met His perfect, holy brilliance, His
unmistakable power and glory. And when that happens you, like Jacob, get a good
look at yourself—at your life—in a
mirror.
I gaped in horror at my reflection. Everything about me lay exposed, including
the prospects of a future without God. He wasn’t shocked by what He saw; He’d
been watching my life play out for thirty-three years. I, however, was ashamed and
repulsed by the vision. With trembling fear and helpless humility, I landed on
my face—literally— before a Holy God.
I knew I was on holy ground; and,
yes, I was afraid.
But lying on my face, feeling horrid
and puny, wasn’t enough. Something else needed to happen. I needed to do something.
That something happened immediately…
________________________________________
Do you feel directionless, as
though your life is out of control? Have you been
running from something, or someone? Are you terrified of the future? Do you
feel as though you’re struggling with something and can’t get victory over
it?
Maybe, just
maybe, you’ve been struggling—wrestling—with
God and didn’t know it. Maybe He’s following you around, trying to get your
attention and you’re ignoring Him. Life will never get better until He’s got
your attention. Oh, life might get a little better
for a while, but it won’t get better permanently.
You won’t have the transformation you want without Him.
God doesn’t want
to leave you wrestling in an eternal power struggle with Him. He wants to change
your heart, change your life and legacy. When you finally stand face-to-face
with God, make sure you hang on and beg
for Him to bless you. Don’t let go until He does.
But there’s a warning:
When the sun rises you might find He’s left a limp-causing mark on you. But
that’s okay because when you look at it, feel it, live everyday with it, the
limp reminds you of Him and the day He touched you.
You’ll eventually
regard that limp as a blessing instead of a curse.
_______________________________________
NEXT WEEK: What I needed to do: to change my life,
recover from my pain, and think clearly about my future and the possibility of
another chance, another pregnancy. A baby.
My next step in the transformation…
_______________________________________
Until next week.
Thanks for
joining me!
Blessings,
Andrea
(Tuesday, October 1 is my
one-year blogging anniversary. What a year it’s been! Thank you for joining me
on this journey. May we all continue to grow and heal together through another
year!)
