Wrestling with God

I’ve always been amazed by Jacob in the Bible.

Jacob, who began life the underdog, grasping at the heel of his brother, always striving for something better, for what he did not already have. Jacob, who in the midst of struggle fought on, never giving up. Jacob, who, in spite of his family background and history was the father of many nations.

 His tenacity was unbelievable. The way he lived his life full force is in short, amazing. Now don’t get me wrong; these same qualities got him into plenty of trouble, mostly because he was such a strong personality. Nothing kept him down for long.

Jacob possessed a rare persistence that propelled him far beyond many of his peers. When he saw something he wanted, it became his at whatever the necessary cost. Birthright of the firstborn, the wife of his choice, land and possessions; all were his because he never let up when something was within his reach.

He even wrestled with God.

When Jacob wrestled with God, he did so primarily with selfish motivation. His family was on the line, and faced with the reality of a brother with a known vendetta on his head, Jacob was not taking any chances. So he fought, not knowing who he had engaged in combat.

Jacob fought out of fear. Fear for the lives of his children and wives. Fear for his own life. Fear of losing his possessions. Fear of the unknown in his situation. Fear of his brother Esau. Pure, unadulterated fear.

Jacob fought because of what he had at stake. Everything that Jacob held dear was on the line that night, or so he thought. But what if he had taken the time to find out who he was struggling against? How different the outcome could have been! His fight that night was wholly unnecessary. While his drive is admirable and his desire to protect what had been entrusted to his care commendable, the fact remains that Jacob needn’t have fought; I fully believe the blessings he received would have still been his, only without the pain, the scarring caused by struggle. If only he had surrendered.

So at what point does wrestling require surrender?

Sometimes I wrestle with God as well. I struggle with the why’s and how’s of our, of my infertility. I grapple with the understanding that for some unknown reason, we are in this boat when there are so many others who apparently have such an easy time. I question the reasoning behind this trial.

My motivations are oftentimes selfish. I fight because I think that it is what is required of me, when in reality, surrender is what God is asking. I battle because I don’t want to endure this trial because it hurts, even though my pain causes me to grow spiritually. I want the end result without the effort.

I fight because I don’t know what else to do. When God’s way is no longer clearly evident I take things into my own hands, in essence telling God and showing the world that I am in control; just like Jacob. And just like Jacob, I refuse to surrender.

But what would happen if I did? What would happen if I took the time to ask who my opponent was, to really see what I was up against? Most likely I would find that I am struggling most against the one I claim to follow.

Therein lies the problem: When I fight my solution, I automatically lose. My way is hindered because all energy is focused on dealing with me, rather than combating the real issue.  Fighting the answer never leads to a win- only to heartbreak and turmoil.

Like Jacob, I need to learn that while I may still be blessed when I am finished struggling with God, those blessings would be greater if I would follow His directions first. That by asking who my opposition is, I not only know who I am up against, but I also know that I am fighting the true opponent  and not wasting my energy on the one who is my solution.  That I could have rest instead of trouble, peace in the face of turmoil, calm in the midst of the storm.

So when does wrestling require surrender?

When you are wrestling God.

Contentment

One thing I have certainly struggled with especially in recent days is contentment. I was reminded of this recently by my wonderful husband, who has an uncanny knack for reminding me where my focus needs to be when I have gotten off track.

Contentment has, in my mind become as dirty as some choice four letter words. It is what I run from even as I begrudgingly acknowledge that it is the very thing I need the most. Why?  My contentment has been based on what I have, or do not have as the case may be.

 I see what others have, what I desire, and I want that for myself. I wish for the blessing that they have been given, the opportunities they have received, often as a result, and am angered when I perceive that they neglect to view those treasures as such.  I become “righteously” indignant when I watch how they carry themselves and act in certain situations. An unholy discontent fills my being when I see what they have, even as I lack.

I have felt that coming to terms with my discontented state, in particular coming to a state of contentment with remaining childless, if that is what God has planned, meant giving up that desire, the hope of ever having my own baby. This is not just children, which are something I’ve long desired, but specifically an infant, and more particularly one that is biologically ours.

So prompted by a continual stirring of the Holy Spirit, I began to study what a contented life looks like. And as I read, I came to this conclusion: contentment is not giving up, it is not letting go of dreams and desires; it is simply an assuredness that God is at work and will fulfill his promises in His time and accordance with His plan.

Contentment is resting in Him, trusting His plan, acknowledging that it is the best. Proverbs 19:23 says it this way. “The fear of the LORD leads to life; then one rests content, untouched by trouble.” Untouched by trouble. Why? How? Because when we are unfettered by our concerns, focusing on the Lord, we no longer have to worry about our troubles, because He has taken care of them. He is in control and in that place there is no fear. Our best is always His heart.

Psalm 131 creates an amazing word picture of contentment when it says this:

¹ My heart is not proud, LORD, 
   my eyes are not haughty; 
I do not concern myself with great matters 
   or things too wonderful for me. 
² But I have calmed and quieted myself, 
   I am like a weaned child with its mother; 
   like a weaned child I am content.
 ³ Israel, put your hope in the LORD 
   both now and forevermore.           

Pure contentment is built in complete dependence on God (vs. 1). There can be no other source. When we try to achieve contentment in our own strength we fail miserably because it can only be found by depending on Him. We no longer have to be despondent, disenchanted and filled with discontent; hope and contentment walk hand in hand, just as the Psalmist wrote (vs. 3). We only have to hope in the right place!

While the picture of an infant and its mother from verse two was off-putting for me at first, as I allowed the truth of its message to sink into my heart, I realized its impact. I think of my two foster children, and how much they are comforted by my touch, my presence alone when they are frightened, or hurt, or even their dependence on me when they are hungry. As I meet those needs, they rest quietly, and they are content, just as we should be.

Contentment requires us to lay aside our desires for God’s, to align ourselves with His will. When our wants are the same as His, we end up finding satisfaction in the blessings we have already been given. God does not forget our desires; He knows every single one and holds them dear to His heart. As a good father, however, He is unwilling to give us things that would not be beneficial for us at certain times, even things we think we “need.” But as we honor Him by following in obedience and resting in His plan, we can be assured that His good gifts are on their way. Even the things we have desired most.

While my plan certainly does not look like His, (as I would most certainly done things differently) I can rest peacefully, contented in my circumstances, embracing all that I do have, reminding myself daily of this through the words of Hebrews 13:5 “Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have, because God has said, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.”  

We are never alone; He is always present, and that is always enough.

Letting Go

Since becoming a mom via the foster system two months ago, I have certainly struggled. There is nothing quite like being a foster, foster to adopt or adoptive parent, specifically after struggling with infertility, and more particularly when there hasn't been a conclusive end to that part of life, outside of simply resolving to move on.

This struggle has been an emotional one to say the least, consuming my time and energy, overtaking my mental faculties far too often. Pain engulfs me, leaving me to wonder if there will ever be an end to this journey. Fear creeps in, taking hold, telling me that it will always be like this, that no satisfaction will ever be found. 

Contentment seems far beyond my grasp, and with each passing day I have grown more restless.

The attitudes and actions of others sting, leaving behind a bitter resentment. Words, spoken in a naivety, puncture, deepening wounds already acquired.  Reminders of what was, what could have been haunt, bequeathing a desperation for what is not, and seemingly will never be.  A somberness pervades my demeanor, leaving me with feelings of destitution; alone with few real friends, and even fewer who really understand my situation.

But then I hear a still, small voice calling me, beckoning me to come, to rest, to let go. If only I will listen. It, He, calls me to let go of the pain that has already been taken upon His shoulders; to relinquish my scars, scabs, and wounds into His.

He challenges me to renounce my fear, letting go of my inhibitions, placing my trust in Him instead of anything that modern, conventional wisdom would endorse. In doing so, I return my faith to Him rather than to the enemy, Satan, whose artillery is filled with scare tactics.

He gently corrects me, directing me to abandon my anger and bitterness along with the unforgiving spirit I have had, and still have at times towards others. When I carry the afore mentioned, I stand in contempt of all I claim to believe. I have been forgiven, and others deserve the same treatment as much as I do.

I cannot claim to be a representative of Christ when my actions contradict the point my words make. No matter what others may say or do, no matter how their misguided, ill-timed words may hurt, how their actions may influence our relationship, the fact remains that  my “attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus” (Philippians 2:5).

He then reminds me that jealousy must also go, being listed among several Biblical lists of serious grievances. This ugly green monster, when allowed in, pervades every inch of my being; thoughts, attitudes, and actions, feeding all sorts of other contemptible behavior. It oozes its way into every aspect of daily life, almost literally coloring the world an ugly shade of green. When envy is present, contentment is not possible and nothing is ever good enough. However, as Paul wrote Timothy, “Godliness with contentment is great gain,” and while speaking specifically of financial success, the application is the same; contentment is reliance on God for all we need and have been promised.

He exhorts me to forgive myself by refusing to live in regret for past decisions and even mistakes, reminding me that my life is not in the past, but in the future, walking forward daily with Him. Past experiences now play an integral role in my future, not as a dwelling place for my thoughts, but, as those days have already been experienced, their purpose now is as a learning tool, a stepping stone, not as a stumbling block or hindrance to my progress.

He propels me forward, encouraging me to “press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me,” to be as those who have gone before, “Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward.” (Philippians 3:12-14). My goal is simply this; to strive towards the calling I have received from my Lord, impacting the world around me one day at a time, especially that of children.

So for now, that means fostering children that may never permanently be mine. It means that for the time I have them, I must care for them as if they were “mine,” leaving behind my own fears and anxieties surrounding infertility and my future family, disregarding what others may say or do, remembering that God is in control, He knows what my desires are and all that He has promised us concerning our future family.

And for now, that’s enough. 

I’m letting go.