Recently, I was asked to provide a bio for a speaking event. As I pulled up the one I had saved on my computer, I started thinking, instead, about Jacob and how he wrestled with God and then limped for the rest of his life. His story told in Genesis 32:22-31 has always fascinated me.
Jacob limped. He didn’t hide his limp. He didn’t pretend he wasn’t hurt. He didn’t sit down and refuse to walk anymore because he limped. Nor does he seem to care if people now see him with a limp. He simply limped. Probably for the rest of his life.
I always tried to keep my limp from showing. I didn’t want anyone to know I struggled with God. I tried to hide the things that I questioned and didn’t understand. The things that didn’t make any sense. I didn’t want people to know I wrestled. I didn’t want them to see I limped.
But the story of Jacob changes all that. For his story isn’t about a man’s limp; instead, it’s about the touch of God. The very powerful touch of God.
God touches our lives. And Jacob’s story reminds me that I should wear my limp without shame. That my limp is more than a weakness; indeed, it’s one of the most important things about me for it points the way to God.
My bio shouldn't be about awards or earthly accomplishments, but it should read: She was insecure, yet God loved her. She was always messing up and wandering off, but God watched for her and couldn’t wait to welcome her back. She couldn’t do it by herself, so God was always there, walking with her. He was always faithful. Always loving. Always strong.
Yes, she limped and she wrestled and she struggled, but her life was anything but ordinary because of the powerful touch of her extraordinary God whose "grace is sufficient" and whose “power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9 NIV).