I have often wrestled in the night. Have you? It is no fun. This is how it goes for me. I wake up in the early hours of the morning—two or three a.m. Something gets on my mind—usually a problem or a conflict. I have a conversation in my head with the person who troubles me, or, more often, I imagine a conversation with a friend or mentor who supports me. There have been too many times when I have had such a conversation in my head over and over and over again.
Why do such conversations get stuck in my mind?
Maybe God is inviting me to wrestle.
In today’s Old Testament reading Jacob wrestled with God. He thought he was wrestling with a man. The man could not subdue Jacob. For his strength, the man struck Jacob in his hip so that he forever limped. To mark the encounter, he also changed Jacob’s name to Israel. It was then that Jacob/Israel recognized that he had been wrestling with God.
So is all insomnia an invitation from God to do battle? Maybe.
Last year, after a bout of struggling with an injustice, having that same old conversation in my head again and again, one night I did something different. Instead of having my usual “this proves I’m right” conversation, I admitted to myself and to God how angry, hurt, judgmental, and stuck I was. I stopped using self-righteous logic and poured out a lot of vulnerable feelings instead. Then I said, “God, take over. I can’t let go of these thoughts and feelings, but here they are. Do with them what You will.”
Something very interesting happened in the nights that followed. Different thoughts broke through. My emotions were less intense and softer. I began to see things from a different point of view. I still thought I was basically right —but now there was some self-questioning: “Am I as right as I think I am?” I wondered. That brought out some stubborn, reminiscent-of-adolescence, rebellious feelings. More questions followed: What’s my motivation for having this conversation again and again? Am I being fair? Am I being selfish? How am I being directed by pride, fear, or hurt? How does my perspective match with God’s standards?
Tough questions. In the night, I wrestled as I attempted to answer them. I realized in attitude, I was not as innocent as I had thought. I remembered the scripture that says, “You will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.” (John 8:32) I also remembered someone’s variation on that scripture, “You will know the truth, and the truth will make you free—but first it will make you very uncomfortable.”
I was very uncomfortable. I was wrestling with Truth. I was wrestling with God. As we wrestled, God was both besting and converting me.
Our Catholic faith teaches that conversion is an ongoing process. Our first conversion happens with Baptism, when God, through grace, comes to live in our souls. But there is a second conversion which lasts throughout our lives. Paragraph 1428 of the Catechism says,
1428 “Christ’s call to conversion continues to resound in the lives of Christians. This second conversion is an uninterrupted task for the whole Church who, “clasping sinners to her bosom, [is] at once holy and always in need of purification, [and] follows constantly the path of penance and renewal.” This endeavor of conversion is not just a human work. It is the movement of a “contrite heart,” drawn and moved by grace to respond to the merciful love of God who loved us first. (1036, 853, 1996)
In conversion, we encounter God and let ourselves be changed by the encounter. We receive from Him a dose of Truth about ourselves combined with clarity about what to think, say, or do to be more in line with God’s perspective. Sometimes, momentarily, it hurts to do that. But truth sets us free. When we wrestle with God, we are not overcome by guilt, but rather led to gently choose a different path from the one we’ve been on.
I wish I could say that now, whenever I feel anxious, angry, self-righteous, or depressed, I go straight to God when I wake up in the night. Not there yet. I still let that defense attorney in my head go on for awhile. I still start out trying to solve my problems on my own. But I catch myself much sooner now, sometimes laugh at myself in the dark, and then pour out my heart and mind to God. I let Him see and touch my uglies. I wrestle with Him instead of myself. And so, gradually, God converts me some more.
I am learning the pain of unpleasant truth is accompanied by a sense of God’s love, His confidence in me, as He gentles my spirit and softens my heart.
For a prayer today, you might want to read today’s psalm, Psalm 17. “Hear, O Lord, a just suit; attend to my outcry….hearken to my prayer from lips without deceit…though you test my heart, searching it in the night….show your wondrous mercies…hide me in the shadow of your wings…on waking, I shall be content in your presence.”
