The Blessing of the Limp

When Disability is an Answer to Prayers

I have read through this passage on dozens of occasions, and the more I read it, the better it gets. Genesis 32 recounts how Jacob wrestled with God and how, ultimately, God got Jacob’s attention.

You see, Jacob was actively on the run from Esau and was preparing to face his brother, whom he had deceived and who he believed desired to kill him. So Jacob prayed:

“Please deliver me from the hand of my brother, from the hand of Esau, for I fear him, that he may come and attack me, the mothers with the children. But you said, ‘I will surely do you good, and make your offspring as the sand of the sea, which cannot be numbered for multitude.’” Genesis 32:11–12 (ESV)

Jacob’s prayer was for deliverance and growth, but God was moving in much bigger and grander ways than Jacob was expecting. He prayed to be delivered and would have been delighted if God had simply moved Esau out of the land. But God knew what he needed was much deeper than simply a change in his fortune. He needed a change in his heart.

24 And Jacob was left alone. And a man wrestled with him until the breaking of the day. 25 When the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, he touched his hip socket, and Jacob’s hip was put out of joint as he wrestled with him. 26 Then he said, “Let me go, for the day has broken.” But Jacob said, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.” 27 And he said to him, “What is your name?” And he said, “Jacob.” 28 Then he said, “Your name shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with men, and have prevailed.” 29 Then Jacob asked him, “Please tell me your name.” But he said, “Why is it that you ask my name?” And there he blessed him. 30 So Jacob called the name of the place Peniel, saying, “For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life has been delivered.” 31 The sun rose upon him as he passed Penuel, limping because of his hip. 32 Therefore to this day the people of Israel do not eat the sinew of the thigh that is on the hip socket, because he touched the socket of Jacob’s hip on the sinew of the thigh.

Jacob was alone, and in very concise detail, the Scripture tells us that a man wrestled with him. Jacob, in his fear, would have assumed that this was Esau coming to attack him in the night. They wrestled and fought for hours. Jacob, in his determination to defeat who he believed was his brother, did not give up. Yet after hours and hours of fighting, the man touched his hip socket and put his hip out of joint.

While the pain would have been immense, the shock of what happened when his mind finally caught up after the pain would have been even greater. This man, whom he thought was an even match, had just been playing with him for hours. He now knew this was something greater than a man that he was wrestling with. He then moved from wrestling to defeat his brother to pursuing the true blessing of God and seeing Him face to face.

This wrestling scene in the Bible, in some sense, makes me chuckle because I am reminded of the roughhousing I do with my own kids. Sometimes my youngest will take it too far and begin to get angry and aggressive. He is three years old, and so for me, as a fully grown man, fighting him is not hard. As a father, I sit there and patiently block each one of his attempted blows and instruct him until he calms down, but there eventually comes a point where I have to remind him of who I am. The stunned look on his face when he remembers that we are not equals and that I can pick him up and restrain him quite quickly—this is the look I see on Jacob’s face in my mind. My child will often come to me after these emotional outbursts and desire closeness and affection. This is what Jacob was pursuing: the true blessing and relationship with the Father.

As Timothy Keller put it in a sermon on the topic, “You can never have a real life change unless something comes in and shakes the fundamental foundations of your life.” And in that moment, Jacob realized he had been fighting with God the whole time. He needed to fight for the blessing of God and seeing Him face to face. This is what repentance looks like. He has turned from wrestling against God and His will to wrestling to see God. The moment of pain and the lifetime of pain thereafter were reminders of the most powerful moment of his life.

As Keller puts it, “God almost always has to wound you to show you your need.” For Jacob, that wound was physical and a lifelong reminder of the grace and mercy of God. His dislocated hip would have caused him to limp the rest of his life, leaving him without stability in his walk and making him very prone to random collapses. Yet that one moment answered his prayers. His disability was the answer that he needed to help him genuinely pursue God.

Thomas Watson, in his comments on Romans 8:28, says, “Jacob wrestled with the angel, and the hollow of Jacob’s thigh was out of joint. This was sad; but God turned it to good, for there he saw God’s face, and there the Lord blessed him. ‘Jacob called the name of the place Peniel, for I have seen God face to face’ (Genesis 32:30). Who would not be willing to have a bone out of joint, so that he might have a sight of God?”

For me, I have a multitude of things that I look back on now and genuinely feel the pain they caused and the pain that still lingers. Yet, with perspective, I can say that it was a mercy of God. Watching my son be placed upon life support right in front of me was genuinely traumatic. I still awake with nightmares, thinking I am back in that room. Yet that lingering pain reminds me of the grace of God and the ways He has moved and shown Himself more and more to me each and every day. I watch as God has answered my prayers time and time again with limps rather than full deliverance and yet the limps are far better.

I think of the ever-present, revolving grief that comes with having children with disabilities rises and falls. Like Jacob after his hip was put out of joint, there are days when I am okay and am just limping by, and then there are days when the pain and grief crash into me and I collapse. Yet I can genuinely say that the grief and pain are worth it and are working for my good and His glory because they are keeping me on my knees, begging God to show me His face. The good news is that He does.