Beautifully Broken

I had been fighting since the point of conception. Always pushing to be first, I made sure I got what I knew was coming to me… and then some. A cheater that hated to be cheated, I never settled for second best, or second, period. My 'me-first' mind set and and constant struggle to be first had poisoned every relationship I had, and I was running. Running from my father-in-law, running from my brother, and running from my past. It felt like every aspect of my life was closing in on me, the events that had built my past were suffocating me, and I was fighting a tidal wave of memories, struggling to keep my head above the water. I had this strange feeling that everything in my life was about to come full-circle, the thought terrified me. Everything that I had then-had in life I had gained dishonestly. I was a supplanter, and a heel-grasper, and I was about to face two of the biggest mistakes in my life: Laban and Esau. I felt that fate was about to take it's course, and I had done nothing to earn any favors from God. Even with two wives, (it's a long story.) two nursemaids, and eleven sons, I felt distant, and unreachable. We came to the brook of Jabbok, it means, 'an emptying out of.' I found the name fitting. I sent my family, animals, and possessions over the brook, but I stayed behind to think. My mind spun in constant circles, stumbling over my troubles and never nearing a solution. I felt my last thread of hope fading. I was jerked from my thoughts as the echo of footsteps echoed along the shoreline. I rose as a man drew near to me. His eyes held a finality, and he felt familiar even though I am sure that I had never seen him before. Without a word uttered we fought. Not verbally like one might imagine. No, we wrestled, long and hard, we wrestled through the night. I was fighting like I had fought every spiritual and physical fight in my life up until that point. I fought with a determination to win and a stubbornness that surpassed all words I refused to submit to the mighty hand of this mysterious stranger. In the past, I had always won, always gotten my way, and ran with it. This time was different. This time I felt as if I was being toyed with. The thought angered me, and I doubled my efforts, pouring my hurt, frustrations, and fear into this battle I was giving all the strength that I had. When dawn broke the man touched my hip, with a power that terrified me to the core. Immediately my hip was disjointed and any power to stand left my body, along with the ability or desire to fight. Falling I caught myself on the man's shoulder, and clung to Him for all I was worth. At that instant as I stood supported by this stranger I knew. This man was no human, this was God. The thought overwhelmed me. This was the God who had tried to reach me time, and time again. This God that I refused to submit to, had come down on my level, and related to me the only way I knew how to relate. To fight. As the sun rose, I stood there leaning completely on Him, clinging to Him. I was terrified to let go. Dawn struck, and He said to me,"Let me go, for it is daybreak." I panicked. I couldn't stand without Him. I couldn't face my trials without Him holding me in His perfect arms. I responded stubbornly,"I will not let you go until you bless me." I gulped. What had I done to deserve a blessing from God? The answer was nothing. Absolutely nothing. At that moment, I wouldn't have blamed Him at all if He had dropped me, walked out of my life, and never looked back. But the God I serve is the God of abounding, unending grace. He responded,"What is your name?" Awe surged through my veins and pounded in my temples. The God who had knit me together in my mother's womb knew who I was, He knew my name. He wasn't being ignorant, He was granting Redemption. Long ago, in what seems like another lifetime I had been asked that question by my dying father, and I had given my older brother's name in order to acquire the family blessing. Tears filled my eyes. I was getting a second chance, a chance to change my answer, a chance to tell the truth. I straightened my shoulders and answered,"Jacob."He said to me,"Your name will no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, because you have fought with God and men and overcome." Then He was gone. Tears sprang from my eyes and rolled down my face. The God of my fathers had known exactly what my heart needed. A blessing wasn't what my heart yearned for. No, my heart longed for a second-chance, a clean-slate, a brand-new start, and that's what my heart got. I was no longer a supplanter. I was a survivor. Was I broken? Yes. Am I broken? Yes, I still don't walk perfectly, but my disjointed hip serves as a reminder of the day that I came face-to-face with God, and not only survived, but thrived. It reminds me of the day I surrendered all, and dropped my walls of defense, the day I let God take control. I am broken, but it’s a Beautiful Broken.

The story of Jacob wrestling with God can be found in the Bible, in Genesis 32.