Wrestling With God

In my personal experience, wrestling with God has usually been about three things:  Something He wants me to do.  Something He wants me to say.  Somewhere He wants me to go.  For instance, God says, “Go” and I say, “No.”  God says, “Stay” and I say, “No way.”  God says, “Forgive” and I say, “Never.”  It becomes a constant battle between the flesh and the spirit described in Galatians 5:17, “For the flesh lusts against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh; and these are contrary to one another, so that you do not do the things that you wish.”

Years ago while a student at New Orleans Baptist Seminary I heard an illustration that I will never forget.  It was one of those mornings when I was half awake, half asleep, half dead.  I was always at the chapel service.  It wasn’t required, but I was there just in case the preacher delivered a message that I could borrow for the next Sunday, or in case either of my favorite professors was preaching.    Occasionally there was a guest preacher.  That was the case on the morning I heard the illustration I’ll never forget.  I hate to admit, I don’t even remember his name.  This is what he said; Inside each of us are two dogs.  Every day that we live these two dogs are constantly in a fight.  One dog is black and the other is white.  The black dog represents the flesh.  The white dog represents the Spirit.  Because we are constantly making decisions dealing with right and wrong, the two dogs are constantly fighting.  Then he said he could tell which dog was going to win the fight.  He said, “The dog you’re feeding will win the fight every time.”  “Whichever dog you’re starving will always lose.”  Then he asked, “Which dog are you feeding?”

The wrestling I am doing with God is about feeding the wrong desires and fooling myself that the end result will reveal I knew better than God.  Not only is there denial in these wrestling matches with God, there is also pride.  Prideful feelings that, even though I am struggling with God, I will eventually win. 

That simple story about the two dogs opened my eyes to the reality of spiritual warfare.  I remember beginning to be aware of the wrestling that was going on inside of me.  I began to be aware of what I was feeding my mind and heart.  I began to be careful what I was feeding the dogs, and in particular, which dog I was starving.  I have continued to wrestle with God and often against God since those days in New Orleans.  I imagine I always will.  If you’re wrestling with God or against God, don’t try to win.  Just surrender.