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- Written by: Don Goulding
So Jacob was left alone. Then a man wrestled with him until daybreak. (Genesis 32:24)
Jacob’s opponent was an angel representing God himself. Some people wrestle with God their entire lives. I’m one of them.
“It is not wise to resist the Almighty,” our mothers tell us.
Bless you if you are made that way, and can run straight to submission–we must all get there. I can’t seem to do it without a fight.
As Jacob’s account continues, we learn the fight was rigged. The angel held back supernatural power until morning. In a sacred moment, he put Jacob’s hip out of joint, then spoke a blessing over him. Jacob needed to be tenderized before he would receive his anointing–so God allowed him to wrestle.
A cord passes from this Old Testament event, through the intervening pages, to a passage in the New Testament. “… continue working out your salvation with awe and reverence, for the one bringing forth in you both the desire and the effort - for the sake of his good pleasure - is God.” (Phil. 2:12, 13).
My salvation is not a thing accomplished, from which I skip away, clapping the dust from my hands. I must labor at even the small bit of sticking to my acceptance of his gift. Yet, God is in the ring, wrestling, not against me, but for me to accomplish the salvation he desires. He is so bighearted he allows me to think I’m fighting him when, really, I’m fighting me. I’m up against my own fleshly nature, needing victory over temporal distractions.
God eggs me into this wild, holy ruckus, and I can’t resist. I jump into the fray, bloody my nose, laugh, and, once I’m fully tenderized, beg for God’s blessing. He is happy to bestow a peace over me that is sweeter for the tussle.
God doesn’t mind that I’m a fighter.
Prayer: Lord, thank you for letting me wrestle and win in surrender to you.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love. (1 Corinthians 13:13)
A wealthy father had three beautiful daughters. He named them Faith, Hope, and Love.
The winsome lady, Hope, now waits in the garden of my mind.
She calls to me, “Why cower in the shadows with the hags, Fear and Doubt? Turn your back on those weeds and be my friend. I want to bring promises to your remembrance.”
Hope’s conversation energizes weary bones. She has the bounce of youth, and I love to explore the depths of her wit. In fact, my most pleasant hours are spent in the sunshine with Hope.
It’s fun to say her name, Hope. The definition of hope is, “A desire of some good, accompanied with an expectation of obtaining it.”
The Apostle John wrote, “Dear friends, we are Godʼs children now, and what we will be has not yet been revealed. We know that whenever it is revealed, we will be like him.” To be like Jesus is surely our “desire of some good.” It’s our expectant hope.
Hope retells how Jesus came to rescue me, and how much God cares for lost ones. Her timbre rings with laughter as she recounts what will be in paradise. Her poise and grace make me realize how well their Father raised these sisters.
It’s refreshing to spend time with this effervescent friend, and if I ever get bored with Hope, she has two engaging sisters ready to talk.
It really does matter whom I choose as garden friends.
Prayer: Jesus, help me think worthy thoughts.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
… have mercy on others, coupled with a fear of God, hating even the clothes stained by the flesh. (Jude 1:23)
Dani and I hunkered over a tea candle as another blast shook the house. Our eyes widened in awe of the wind’s power. Cyclone Winston was the largest in South Pacific history. The eye passed between the islands but we felt the wrath of radiating bands of horizontal rain. Every tree was shredded, many buildings collapsed, even brave hearts trembled.
Sin is like a cyclone. It shreds life. No one escapes the devastating consequences. Sometimes we are caught in the eye, where the source of our suffering is clear. A drunk driver runs over a toddler. The sin of drunkenness destroyed a child.
Other times, bands radiate from sin to cause general misery. A father is addicted to alcohol, and his children inherit the curse down to the third generation. Abuse, codependency, and addictions haunt the extended family. The source of the pain goes undiagnosed, and is absorbed into the morass of a dysfunctional planet. It’s the radiating bands of hardship, and we’re not sure of the exact epicenter.
Whether it’s the natural consequences of a specific sin, or the general trials of life in a cursed world, every sin results in suffering. Even my petty gossip and callous indifference cause anguish for myself and others.
It’s time for me to weep over the devastation around me. To weep for the suffering souls I know, to weep for my own hurts, and most of all, to weep because I’m part of the problem. I have to recognize the terrible results of sin and hate rebellion even as God hates it.
A spiritual cyclone is destroying those I love, and this life is my only chance to do something about it.
Prayer: Mighty Christ, let me stand against the cyclone of sin.