Jacob wrestled with God…
Lord, I’m crippled. I’m broken. I can’t go on. How can I be the father I never had?
I don’t know the ways of God. my personality stinks.
But Lord, here I am, standing alone like a little lost child.
And I’m going to stand here. And I’m going to fight.
I will fight the demons of my past.
I will fight the evil, demonic armies I’ve inherited from my ancestors.
I will fight against my own sinfulness.
I will stand against Satan.
Lord, I will wrestle you, all through the long, cold, lonely night. And I won’t let you go until you bless me. Even if I must walk with a limp for the rest of my life.
Lord, I’m crippled. I’m broken. I’m blind. I’m stupid. My personality stinks. And I have nothing.
But I can be brave. And the buck stops here.