The Fight

I had him in a headlock. By this time he was struggling quite hard. There was no way I could beat this guy. Sure, at first he was stiff and easy to toss around. But the more I wrestled him, the more alive and limber he became. And at this point we'd been wrestling a while. I was getting winded.
So he broke free. All I knew to do was duck, so I did with my arms over my head. I darted from his reach and spun around to see him. He was just shaking his head and laughing. As I caught my breath I kept thinking, "What have I gotten myself into?"
I had read of Jacob wrestling with God. Is this what it felt like? Did I really think I was any better than Jacob? It is like cartoon I once saw with a man shaking his gloved fists at the sky in the first frame. In the second, a single large boxing glove smashed the man from the clouds. The caption read, "Your arms are too short to box with God."
Planning my next move, I started to see something in the eyes of my chosen opponent. It wasn't love, let me tell you. His laugh was a bit too unsteady and his writhing more like a snake than a man. I charged him, pumping my legs as hard as I could. I got low, tucked my head and tackled him. That was the plan. He merely stumbled a few steps backward and laughed. Then he wrapped his arms around me. I couldn't move.
It was at this point that I realized something. The stench. He smelled horrible. I don't know if it was his breath or just his body odor, but I wanted to vomit. The more I struggled to break free the stronger his grip became. I realized I was losing breath. His laughing was now a high pitched squealing, full of a perverted delight. As my eyes caught view of fading lights, I wept. I cried out for God to forgive me. Just before I lost consciousness, I saw a figure appear. He was marching right toward us.
I woke to a bright sunlight. It was a contrast to the darkness of the fight. Someone was holding me in their arms. I blinked the fuzz from my eyes to see Jesus. He grinned and said, "You're okay. Welcome to the land of the living." I asked him to forgive me as I realized what I had done.
I had chosen a dead opponent to fight. Was it to prove my worth? Did I think I could redeem myself or conquer things on my own? Who knows the real reasons. But what I chose to fight, I gave life and strength. It was a past sin, one I had been forgiven of and that Jesus had beat long ago on the cross.
For some reason, I thought I was wrestling with God to get over a low spot in my walk with Him. How childish. The entire time he watched and wept as I went back to fight a battle he had won.
How many times do we do this? We return to sins we thought we'd beat and give them life again. Our life giving ability should be turned to other people who struggle with that same dead sin. You see, we have no battles to fight with sin. We just need to get on the right side of the fight. Jesus has won the war with sin and death. If we just get with him, trust him and see what he's done, we can recognize dead things when they tempt us with their wares. With Jesus we are alive in the land of the living, not the dead.