Last night was a night of sleeplessness and restlessness. I haven’t blogged much on here about this pregnancy (we’re due Sept. 1) but it’s been a challenge. I am beyond grateful for the blessing of new life growing inside me, and yet… and yet…
There are moments when I cannot get comfortable, when the pain is too much, and I lie in bed, awake, listening to the quietness of a house asleep, and I wonder if this is all too much for my weak flesh to bear. I lie there, awake, with swirling anxiety and guilt, knowing the church answers to my problems… but those words feel so empty in the face of the reality of my fears. Deep inside, I feel as Jacob, wrestling with the spirit of God, screaming out “I will not let you go until you bless me”.
It’s these nights full of restlessness that I understand the complexities of those Bible stories. I begin to see myself in them… the imperfection of those “heroes” of our Sunday School hours. And once I realize that I’m not alone in this, and that none of us are alone in this, that we have a book full of stories of imperfect people, much like us, who wrestled God into the wee hours of the morning. People who refused to let go of God, even during the hardest moments. And I’m encouraged to hang on… to just hold on, even when I don’t know why I still hold on.


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