Wrestling with Dad

I’m having a great Father’s Day.  A handmade card from my boys, my favorite breakfast casserole prepared by my wife, encouraging worship with the Christians in Nyitaveglovi, lunch at a great new beach restaurant only an hour and half away, and now we’re getting ready for leftover pizza and devo with our teammates, the Crowsons. 

Last night I got (another) chance to practice my fathering skills.  My boys want to have a wrestling match every night before they go to bed.  I’m not always up to it, but since all the fathering books say that it’s good for their masculinity, I try to oblidge whenever I can.  The routine is the same.  I’m told to sit in the middle of the carpet in their room, to close my eyes, and to wait for them to come and attack me.  Last night they were a little sneakier.  Jeremy snuck up from behind while Jonathan climbed on the bed and jumped on my head.  Their object is to “get me down,” which happens only when I decide I’m ready for the wrestling to stop.

I don’t know how much longer it’ll last, but for now I’m able to pretty much keep the wrestling match under control.  That takes a little strength—just a little more than they have—as well as some wisdom.  If I don’t control my strength, someone gets hurt and then there are tears to dry.  They like to wrestle with me, not because they think they can defeat me, but because they want to be engaged with me, to interact with me, even if it is through struggle.  They’re also testing themselves, looking forward to the day when they control the match.  It may not be very long.

I’ve pondered what kind of parallels this has with wrestling with God.  Jacob did it, and came out with a bum hip and a new name, Israel.  And since that time, God’s Israel seems to always be wrestling with him.  We want to be is in the position of wrestling with God and not against him – engaging God, testing him and ourselves, struggling with him until we bow in submission.  What’s amazing is that, in his grace, God accepts to wrestle with us.  He interacts with us.  Sometimes he bends his will to ours.  Sometimes he lets us think that we’ve won, although he’s been in control all along.  He does it, not because there is any doubt as to his strength or his wisdom, but for the same reason I wrestle with my boys – because he loves us.