Jacob challenged God—and won.
I’m not in the mood to do any research right now, but from what I remember, Jake had the G-Man in a headlock, and….Okay. I know that’s not how it went down. Jacob grabbed God’s foot, or something like that. I think the Lord presented Himself as an angel. Not sure. (Three years of Bible school, and I’m having a hard time remembering one of the most famous biblical brawls. I mean, c’mon. God versus anyone should be unforgettable, especially to a Bible scholar.) Anyway, Jacob had a hold of God’s foot and said something like, ‘I’m not letting go until you bless me.’ So God did it.
[DIGRESSION] I love when people get all upset and say that God is high and mighty and has an attitude of arrogance—which He has every right to have. (Hey, when’s the last time you created a universe?) If He were arrogant, though, would He have even let Jacob wrestle Him? No! He would have plinked His creation on the forehead and knocked him over. Instead, God let Jacob think he had a shot. Then, when Jake demanded to be blessed, the Lord gave no argument; He just did it. His actions were the opposite of arrogant and in line with His promise, “Ask and you shall receive.” (For the accurate version of Jacob wrestling God, see Genesis 32. Okay, I looked that up.)
And now I, L.A. Wagner, am challenging God. Circa 2003, the Lord told me, “You will be known for your words, not your face.” Ya see, I, like many, many, many other young people believed I was going to be famous. This was pre-reality TV saturation and during the era of scripted programs. I didn’t want to be an actress, so I thought maybe I’d have a talk show. I knew whatever I did, it would be for Christ. Then, one day, God made clear it was about my words and not my looks. By the way, He was telling me this while I was in a bathroom stall at work.
The next day, I was in the same bathroom stall, thinking about this holy words-and-face pronouncement, and I grew incredulous. But then He said, “Your words will be more powerful than your face is adorable.” Huh? To be fair, I’ve heard that I’m cute and adorable since the day the nurse wiped the amniotic fluids and uterine slime off of me and placed me in my mother’s arms. I don’t hear it as much now, mind you, as I close in on 40. (Actually, maybe it’s just the company I keep and not my age. I need a new social set. Oops. That’s not very Christian.)
So now He was upping the ante by adding power to the prophetic equation. I was even more incredulous. I don’t remember asking for a sign or confirmation, but He gave it to me anyway. As I was washing my hands, a woman who I had never seen before, walked in, looked at me, and gasped. “Oh, my goodness! I thought you were sixteen years old! You’re so cute!”