Wrestling Grace

Jacob, of the Bible, is a pretty awesome character. The story I find most astounding about his life is the story of how he wrestled with God. For a man to competitively wrestle with God is a phenomenal thing. It truly blows my mind. It makes me wonder, “How did Jacob swing that? How can a man fight with God for an entire night without breaking every bone in his body?” I said to myself, “Surely, God wrestled with his all-powerful hands tied behind his back and his Heavenly eyes blind folded.”

And after I thought about it for a little while—I think he did.

As the story goes, they wrestled the entire night until “the man” (God) realized that he could not overpower Jacob. As I read this I didn’t understand it and still don’t. I thought our God was all-powerful, how could he not overpower this man? God, the creator of all things, would have no problem overpowering any of his creations. It makes me wonder why God would even fight with a man in the first place. What would God really have to prove?

Maybe God wasn’t fighting Jacob to beat him. Maybe God gave himself a handicap to make it a “fair fight.” Maybe God’s hands were tied behind his back and maybe he was blindfolded. Maybe his all-powerful hands were bound with the rope of human free will, and his eyes were blinded with his unashamed, unending, relentless love for Jacob. Maybe God wanted Jacob to stop living with the burden of hurting Esau. Maybe God wanted Jacob to stop living in fear of his brother. Maybe he wanted Jacob to stop trying to pay back his wrong with all of his worldly possessions in the only way he knew how, and instead accept God’s grace—accept it completely.

How often do I wrestle with God, fighting day in and day out against his grace? I try to repay for every betrayal of my Father, for every destructive word said against my brother, for every moment I live forgetting my God. I try my hardest, to be his son, to restore myself into his lineage, to be worthy of the name “beloved.” I don’t want a handout; I don’t need a hand out, I can be the man he wants. I can fix everything I have destroyed. I’ll read my Bible, I’ll stop my habitual pattern of sin; I will not rest until I am worthy to be called your son.

I fight and I fight and I fight

I spend nights, with muscles aching, my lungs out of breathe,
Refusing to give up, because of the pride I have left.
Until in the midst of this battle, grid locked with my Lord
He touches my hip and the fight in me is no more.
A pain of submission grips my entire broken heart.
I grab my hip in agony as the blood within me parts
I know now that I have no ability to repay
The sun peaks over the horizon and the night turns to day
The Lord gives me his blessing, and changes my name.
This change is so strong I’ll never be the same
Israel he calls me, for I have wrestled with God
Struggled against God and men and yet still overcome

Now when I walk, I walk with a limp
A constant reminder of what God did to my hip
Tis’ true I may never walk upright again
But I’ll never forget what God did with my sin

“as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us”

Grace hurts

Praise be.