Oh, That I May Limp

One of the funny stories I like to tell about my youngest daughter is the time she was given a character award at her end-of-the-year preschool ceremony. The teacher had assigned a character trait to each child, chosen a verse to accompany the trait, and called them to the front to give them their award.

When my daughter's turn came, the teacher gave her an award for "Determination." My husband leaned over and whispered: "That's just another way of saying she's stubborn."

Without labeling either myself or my husband, I'll just say it's got to be a genetic trait, and she gets it honestly. :) 

This morning, I was restless. I woke at my normal time, but instead of the usual peace I found as soon as I opened the Word, my thoughts were combative, like flitting shadows, difficult to pin down. Many of my thoughts were roiling in response to recent current events as I tried to grapple with some of the issues cropping up on our political landscape -- 

But in large part, I kept coming back to this question: What do all these things have to do with the way of Christ? How can I keep my eyes on Jesus when so many things seem to overwhelm my walk with Him, overshadowing the path, casting it into gloom and making it hard to see? 

I flipped the pages of my Bible to Isaiah 50:4-5, where it says: "The Sovereign Lord has given me an instructed tongue to know the Word that sustains the weary. He wakes me morning by morning, wakens my ear to listen like one being taught. The Sovereign Lord has opened my ears, and I have not been rebellious; I have not drawn back."

I don't know exactly why I felt so drawn to this passage this morning, except that I think this has been a picture of my walk this past year as I've sat in the classroom beneath the Lord's instruction and listened like one being taught. 

The main difference between my attitude this year and my attitude when I was in middle school or high school was that I actually want to learn from the Lord. I have not been rebellious; I have not drawn back -- a vivid contrast to my half-asleep approach to education in my early teens.

That said, while I have learned so much this year, I also feel that I haven't even begun to scratch the surface of what God wants to show me.

So, down in Isaiah 50:7, it says: "Therefore have I set my face like flint; and I know I will not be put to shame."

I'm stubborn -- sorry, determined. I've grasped the Word with both hands, wrestled with it, tried to understand it, some days succeeding, some days failing. 

Genesis 32:22-31 says: "That night, Jacob got up and took his two wives, his two maidservants, and his eleven sons and crossed the ford of the Jabbok. After he had sent them across the stream, he sent over all his possessions. So Jacob was left alone, and a Man wrestled with him till daybreak. When the Man saw that He could not overpower him, He touched the socket of Jacob's hip so that his hip was wrenched as he wrestled with the Man. Then the Man said, 'Let Me go, for it is daybreak.'

"But Jacob replied: 'I will not let You go unless You bless me.'

"The Man asked him, 'What is your name?'

"'Jacob,' he answered.

"Then the Man said, 'Your name will no longer be Jacob, but Israel, because you have struggled with God and with men and have overcome.'

"Jacob said, 'Please tell me Your name.'

"But He replied, 'Why do you ask my name?' Then He blessed him there.

"So Jacob called the place Peniel, saying, 'It is because I saw God face to face, and yet my life was spared.'

"The sun rose above him as he passed Peniel, and he was limping because of his hip."

Okay, a couple of things to note here:

Jacob sends over his wives, concubines, sons, and servants to the other side of the river, plus all his possessions. Before he wrestles with God, he strips himself of anything, anything that he can use as a security blanket, a hold-out, a "but Lord, not that. Don't touch that." He keeps nothing back.

Jacob is left alone (verse 24). He feels abandoned, though he's done it to himself. He's reached the dregs of the cup, the bottom of the well, the last seed in the silo. There's nothing left -- but himself and God.

And when that point happens, you'd better know you can't let go.

Let me say it again for those in the back. When you get to absolute zero, you'd better know that you can't let go of the Lord.

I've felt like Jacob, wrestling with the Lord, unable and unwilling to let go until He blesses me. 

And when that happens, the Lord stops everything. Tamara, He says, are you willing to limp?

Not in the sense that I would be impaired in any way, but in the sense that my total reliance is on the Lord, that every last part of my strength comes from Him, that I cannot walk this journey on earth by myself.

In other words, I am determined that I not be all there is.

Yes, Lord, I want to limp. May I limp every day of my life so that I can be reminded that You are my strength, so that I can remember that my hands, unless they grip You, are emptier than they've ever been, even though they be filled with every other possession in the world.

Lord, I'm determined to train my eyes on You, determined to hear Your voice above the crowd. There is so much injustice, anger, hatred in this world, a noisy cacophony of demanding voices calling for justice, vengeance.

The world demands my attention to these things, and while they are important and I am looking at them, I am determined to look at those things through the filter of Your eyes. I'm determined to understand them through the limp that You've given me as a gift.

The limp is a true gift. Oh, that I may limp, even through the hardest parts, especially through the hardest parts. I refuse to let go; I set my face like flint; "I will not let You go until You bless me."

Are you willing to limp?

Yes!