There are encounters with God from which we should not expect to walk away the same, or unchanged.
Sometimes we enter asking God to change our circumstances, only to discover that He wants to change us.
We come carrying our strength.
Perhaps even our certainty that we are right.
Yet when we truly encounter God, He is not merely interested in helping us become stronger versions of who we have always been. He wants to transform us.
Sometimes the clearest evidence that we have truly met Him is this: we can no longer walk the way we used to.
Jacob discovered this crossing the ford of Jabbok.
He entered the night as Jacob, carrying his history, fears, ambitions, strategies, and the consequences of his past decisions. He knew how to survive, negotiate, and maneuver his way forward.
But now he was about to face the brother he had wronged years before.
Jacob could no longer outrun his past.
Before he could face Esau, he had to face himself. And before he could fully face himself, he had to encounter God.
“Then Jacob was left alone; and a Man wrestled with him until the breaking of day.” Genesis 32:24
There comes a Jabbok in every serious journey with God, a place where gifting, experience, position, and even being “right” are no longer enough.
For leaders especially, this is a critical threshold. It is possible to mistake natural strength for spiritual authority, to defend our opinions as if they were truth, or to protect our position while believing we are protecting God’s purposes.
Eventually, God in His mercy brings us to Jabbok, a place of surrender, not to take something from us, but to remove something within us so He can form something greater in us.
We Often Enter the Wrestling in Our Own Strength
Jacob did. And so do we.
We bring our assumptions, wounds, successes, disappointments, and need for validation. We also bring identities shaped by what others have called us, or what we have called ourselves.
Jacob’s name carried a story, but God was about to rewrite it.
Wrestling with God is often part of spiritual maturity. It is difficult to trust leadership that has never experienced a true crisis of faith, not one that leads away from God, but one that drives deeper into Him.
There are seasons when honest questions must surface:
“Lord, why am I doing what I’m doing?”“How much of this is You, and how much is me?”“Am I defending Your purpose or my preference?”“Am I responding by Your Spirit or reacting from old wounds?”“Is this conviction, or something I’ve simply repeated long enough to believe?”
These questions are uncomfortable, but transformation rarely comes without them.
God Is Not Intimidated by Our Wrestling
Wrestling with God is not always rebellion. Often it is the deepest form of engagement.
“I will not let You go unless You bless me.”
He was not walking away from God, he was clinging to Him.
Sometimes faith looks like that: holding on in confusion, disappointment, grief, or unresolved tension.
The danger is not that we wrestle, but that we stop wrestling and too often settle.
Without that engagement, we risk preserving an identity God intends to transform.
Jacob Went In With Strength and Came Out With a Limp
This is one of the Kingdom’s great paradoxes.
Jacob entered strong and self-reliant.
He left weakened, yet spiritually transformed.
God touched the socket of his hip, and from that moment Jacob walked differently. His limp became a living reminder:
I encountered God here.
I was changed here.
I learned dependence here.
What looked like weakness was actually transformation.
The enemy weakens to destroy destiny.
God touches strength to redefine destiny.
Sometimes the greatest gift God gives a leader is freedom from the need to appear strong.
The Limp Can Become a Gift
We naturally want God to remove weakness.
Sometimes He does.
But at other times He redeems it.
The limp teaches us: I need God.
I can trust God with what I cannot control.
This is not weakness, it is surrendered leadership, and it is the essence of Christian maturity.
There is a strength on the other side of surrender that natural ability can never produce.
God Deals With Our Past Before Our Future
Jacob wrestled as he prepared to meet Esau. His past was catching up with him.
But notice the order:
Before Jacob met Esau, he met God.
Before reconciliation outwardly, there was transformation inwardly.
Before circumstances changed, Jacob changed.
We often ask God to change situations. Sometimes His answer is: First, let Me deal with you.
This is mercy. Because without inner transformation, we simply carry the same person into a new season.
God is not only interested in changing circumstances. He is interested in changing us.
A New Identity Produces a New Future
God asked Jacob: “What is your name?”
The question was not for information, but for revelation.
“Jacob.”
He had to acknowledge who he had been before he could receive who he would become.
Then came the declaration:
“Your name shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel…”
The wrestling produced more than relief, it produced identity.
We see this pattern throughout Scripture:
Jacob becomes Israel.
Saul becomes Paul.
Cephas becomes Peter.
Encounters with God reshape identity, and identity reshapes destiny. Sometimes God’s first work in changing our future is changing who we are.
Leaders Especially Need Jabbok
Leadership brings a subtle danger: competence can slowly replace dependence.
Experience sharpens instinct.
Success builds confidence.
Influence strengthens voice.
These are gifts, but they can also dull spiritual sensitivity.
We know how to lead, build, and respond.
We know what has worked before.
But the question remains: Do we still know how to depend on God?
Can He still interrupt us?
Can He correct us?
Can He confront what we rely on most?
The safest leader is not necessarily the strongest one, but the one who remembers where God gave them their limp.
Better to Walk With a Limp
Our culture celebrates strength.
The Kingdom celebrates surrender.
Jesus says: Abide in Me.Culture says: Prove yourself.Culture says: Prove yourself.
Grace says: Depend on Me.
There is natural strength, and there is resurrection strength.
Kingdom strength says: Look what Christ can do through a surrendered life.Paul learned this truth:
“My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” 2 Corinthians 12:9
Some strongholds are broken.But some places remain as lifelong reminders: You cannot do this without Me.
These become holy limps.
It is better to walk into God’s future dependent on Him than to run ahead in our own strength.
Don’t Waste the Wrestling
When we find ourselves at Jabbok: We must worship through it, let truth anchor us.
Pray in the Spirit, He continues when words fail.
Pray the Word, let Scripture confront and align us.
Speak the Word, declare truth over every area of life.
Share the Word, let your testimony strengthen others.
And above all: Stay in the wrestling.
Don’t run.
Don’t disengage.
Don’t settle.
Persevere.
Press through.
Hold on.
Ganbatte Yo!
Those words carry a very personal meaning for me.
During my teenage years in Japan, I trained in wrestling under a Sensei, Noriaki Kiguchi. During matches, I would hear him shout:
“Ganbatte!”
Most people translate it simply as, “Do your best.” But it means far more.
It means:
Endure.
Press through.
Persevere regardless of difficulty.
That word became a spiritual anchor in my life.I learned that when you are flat on your back, physically, emotionally, financially, You resist. You refuse to be pinned.
Edwin Louis Cole taught us, “Champions are not those who never fall, but those who never quit.” And as I have walked with God through the years, I have discovered this same principle applies spiritually.
Sometimes the wrestling is with circumstances.
Sometimes it is with our own flesh.
Sometimes it is with the lies and strongholds in our minds.
And sometimes, like Jacob, the wrestling is with God Himself…not because we are trying to defeat Him, but because we refuse to let go until He has finished His work in us.
Ganbatte Yo!
Press through.
Stand firm.
Wrestle well.
Don’t quit.
When the Sun Rises
“Just as he crossed over Penuel the sun rose on him, and he limped on his hip.” Genesis 32:31
The sun rose.
Jacob moved forward.
And he limped.
Perhaps that is the picture some of us need.
You can enter a new day and still carry a limp.
You can have scars and still have calling.
You can have questions and still have trust.
You can have a past and still walk into a future.
You can acknowledge weakness and still walk in authority.
You can lose confidence in yourself without losing confidence in God.
This is often where true strength begins.
The goal is not to emerge saying, “Look how strong I am.” But rather, “Look how faithful He is.”
Jacob entered the night in his own strength.
Israel walked into the morning dependent on God.
He had a new name.
A new identity.
A new future.
And a limp.
May we never despise the places where God confronts our strength.
May we allow Him to wrestle with us and deal with our pride, fears, assumptions, and need for control.
And may we refuse to let go until something in us is changed.
Because sometimes we ask God to change our circumstances, and discover He intended to change us. And when He does, He changes what becomes possible.
The limp is not failure.
It is evidence that we finally found where true strength comes from.
Wrestle well.
Hold on.
Persevere.
Ganbatte Yo!
And when the sun rises, walk into what God has prepared, even if you walk with a limp.
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