God Wrestler

I sent them across the Jabbok.
I watched them ford the stream, but I stayed behind.

I had felt him following me.
I could see him out of the corner of my eye. All day I was haunted by him. Whoever he was, if he was even real. He vied for my attention, though he didn't demand it. But every time I turned to find his face, I lost sight of him.

As they reached the opposite side of the Jabbok, and my eyes strained to see them, I felt his presence again.

And I felt his arms around me. My lungs constricted and I resisted. I swung and groaned and kicked and twisted. I threw him to the ground and we fought. The mud of the Jabbok's bank slipped under my feet and splattered on my skin.

I expected to also feel blood on my skin. Or to feel my face begin to swell, my muscles pull. But I felt I felt no panic or injury. Instead, it was my heart that hurt; My soul that constricted and throbbed. I felt hot tears spill from my eyes. I used all my strength against him. He struggled against me, and I knew I had greater strength. And it wasn't until the man pulled my hip from it's joint that I felt any physical pain.

"Let me go, it is daybreak," the man said.

I groaned, my hands moving to where the pain shot from my waist. My chest heaved as I tried to breathe. On the horizon, the sky had begun to turn pink and the darkness had begun to peel away. As morning light shed on the man's face, I felt my heart break.

I suddenly knew what it was I fought for. He had the face of a man. But His eyes were infinite.

"I will not let you go until you bless me," I declared, wrapping my arms tightly around the man.

The man had ceased to struggle and asked me, as his face became illuminated with light, "What is your name?"

I blinked. The last time I had been asked this question... I had lied. I had deceived and gained what was not mine; stolen from my own brother. Everything in me knew, however, that this man would not be so easily fooled.

"Jacob."

The name felt foreign on my lips as I spoke it.

The man said, "But no longer. Your name is no longer Jacob. From now on it's Israel; you've wrestled with God and you've come through."

"What is your name?" I asked him, wondering if he could possibly be who my heart knew he was.

"Why do you want to know my name?" The man then blessed me. And he was gone.

Even as I lay in the mire, I named the place "Peniel". For I knew... in my broken heart... that I had looked into the face of God.

I picked myself up as the sun rose high on the eastern horizon. My heart was new, I could feel it. My soul clinging to the realization that I had, as the Man had said, come through. For I walked away that morning without a scratch or drop of blood on my skin, not a muscle torn, or a bone broken.

But for the rest of my days I would walk with a limp because of my hip, the place my God had broken me.