When my children were smaller we would “wrestle” them to sleep.  As the evenings grew late, we would cradle them in our arms and go into battle.  They wanted their freedom, but we wanted their silence.  They wanted to play, but we wanted them to rest.  We knew what was best for them; they needed their sleep. In our arms, they would wiggle, twist, squirm, and resist.  As the battle raged, the inevitable moment came when they grew still, became relaxed, and fell asleep.  The arms in which they fervently protested were now the very arms in which they were faithfully protected.

     I must confess: Like Jacob of old, I too have wrestled in the arms of God.  With an anxious, restless spirit, I have tried to fight for my freedom. With the will of a rebel I have wiggled, twisted, squirmed, and resisted His melodic song and gentle sway.  Many times I have tired and exhausted myself in His divine grasp only to fall fast asleep in the very arms I fervently opposed. 

     But I too have awakened in the sweet presence of His protective grace.  Oddly enough, it is the struggle that gives way to peaceful, restful sleep.  Because God is our Father, He is willing to endure the squirming. He knows the wrestling makes way for the best rest.