wrestling with god

For nearly nine months now, I have been a Wrestling Mom. That does not mean that I am the wrestler, but rather the Chauffeur, the Shoe-tier, the Bloody-nose Wiper, the Cheerleader, the Photographer, the very inept Coach and occasionally I might even take a dodgeball to the head.

Those just some of the duties required of a Wrestling Mom. Another one is Parade Walker. Or Fund Raiser. Or even Sweaty Clothes Washer. They’re all just loads of fun, pun intended.

I now know what a half-nelson is, how to recognize clasping, the scoring system in freestyle wrestling and have even had to demonstrate “the pancake” to two boys who missed practice one night. (And no, it’s not sitting on top of them with my 65-pound weight advantage, although there are days when it’s tempting.)

We have been traveling to local practices, and not-so-local programs. We’ve participated in a few tournaments and two different styles of wrestling. Hubby has even purchased wrestling mats for the basement floor. (I tend to think padded walls would be a better investment.) We’ve even made a road trip out of the sport, where the actual time of wrestling was shorter than one potty break along the way.

The best part of all this wrestling though, is the energy the boys burn, which makes my job as Wrestling Mom much easier. They can channel their aggression into wrestling with each other, instead of the normal punching and kicking I used to see. (Well, who am I kidding - they still do that, only now they throw a few takedowns in the mix as well.) They come home from practice too exhausted to argue about bedtime or beg for snacks, and usually too tired to pick up their stinky shoes and bags. There is a whole new odor that goes along with this sport - Eau de Wrestling Room can fry nose hairs. I’m told it rivals hockey gear, but really don’t want to put it to the test.

I sometimes wonder if we’re overdoing it by wrestling year round, but figure any sport found in the Bible can’t be all bad. After all, Jacob was a wrestler, and apparently somewhat good.

What I find most interesting about that account in Exodus 32 is the idea that Jacob actually wrestled with God. And I’m pretty sure it’s not included in Scripture as an example of a Biblically-sanctioned sport. The fact that Jacob wrestled with God has extreme significance in my life as well.

I can actually be a Wrestling Mom who wrestles, with God that is.

I can struggle with whatever, even to the point of grappling with God about it - and not have to feel guilty because I am struggling with something. Like Jacob, I might wrestle overnight. Or weeks even. I’m not sure there’s a time limit on wrestling with God. Periods, maybe. I might take a break or a breather, and be back on the mat using all my mental and physical strength to do some more battle.

Am I battling against God? If I’m honest, yes I am. I fight against what I don’t want for my life, or fight for what I do. Sometimes I’m raving mad - at my situation, at God, at my life. Other times, I’m fighting out of grief or fear or even just plain old stubbornness. You’d be amazed at how far a strong will (obstinance) can take you in a wrestling match. Or let me put that another way - you’d be amazed at how long it takes to give in, even if I’m already beat and have one and a half shoulders to the mat.

It would be easy to look at Jacob’s wrestling match and conclude that I should attempt to outwrestle God. But that’s not the point.

Jacob got up in the middle of the night and sent his family and possessions across a stream. (How’s that for a wake-up call?) The Bible doesn’t tell us why Jacob was alone, but it does give us, in Chapter 31, a good idea of what was going through his mind - fear. He was afraid because he thought his brother was coming after him. And probably a bit unsure of God’s promise: “I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go...I will not leave you until I have done what I promised you.” (Gen. 28:15)

I wonder if Jacob purposely sent everyone away because he needed to pray and think. Difficult to do that with the distraction of hundreds of cows, sheep, goats and donkeys, not to mention servants. Perhaps he just needed to be alone.

That is when God (the opponent) initiated the wrestling. The Bible doesn’t give us the how or why, just that they wrestled until daybreak. What I take away from the sparse details of this hours-long bout is that God will actually meet with us to wrestle. The struggle can produce stronger faith - will I resist Him or will I trust Him? And even if I resist, He still pursues me.

I might not be able to work out my issues any other way than by battling through them. Accepting some struggles does not always come easy. (Even though James tells me to consider my trials joy for what they can do for my faith.) Where God’s grace comes is in allowing a match in the first place, and in showing me who I am and who He is. He might even leave me with a souvenir scar to remind me of what I’ve learned.

God wrestled with Jacob and his fears just as He allows me to wrestle with Him about my fears and doubts. I find it comforting that He would do that - even if I’m only a Wrestling Mom who knows a grand total of two moves: falling on my knees and begging for mercy.