And Jacob was left alone; and there wrestled a man with him until the breaking of the day.
A few days ago, I watched over a young girl pacing in our yard wrestling with herself. The inner turmoil of what she was facing was evident in all of her mannerisms. She paced back and forth, torn between two directions. If she went one direction… she was in full defiance to my direction but still maintained control over her life. If she chose the other, she would be giving up her own will and submitting to the will of the one who was trying to steer her in the right direction.
She paced. She argued with herself. She would glare in the direction she wanted to go, would pretend to not hear my voice. She knew what she wanted to do, but understood it would come with consequence. The battle was consuming her at times. She kicked at the rocks, balled up her fists. She screamed at me. She cried. She fought.
As I reflect on that day, now, I’m seeing a glimpse of what it like for the Father to look down on his stiff necked people.
Wars waging inside of us. The flesh battling the spirit. Looking at the pathway that gives us our greatest desires that come with some of the deepest pains, or the pathway where we submit and lay it all down at the foot of the Cross and surrender to God’s will.
She screamed at me, “I hate you.”
I replied back, “But, I still love you.”
No matter how many times we fall under the pressures of the flesh. No matter how difficult the trials and the tribulations are. No matter how difficult it is to understand and comprehend the things that happen in this life. No matter how many times in our wrestling with God we cry out “I hate you”….
The Father says, “But, I still love you.”