The Victorious Limp

I walk with a limp. You cannot see it, but trust me it is there. In fact, I have several sources of limping.

Several years ago a movie was released that took our entire nation on a ride it had never been on before. The movie was entitled Saving Private Ryan. The movie was released in the midst of what I call America’s Greatest Generation Phase. Tom Brokaw’s book of the same title was at the top of every best seller list. He was interviewed on all major talk shows regarding the contents of the book. Both the movie and the book had as one of their primary purposes to extol the virtues of the WWII generation. In many respects, this was something that was long overdue. In other respects it became simply another United States’ fad.

My wife and I saw the movie when it was at the top of its run. I remember the theatre being 2/3 to 3/4 full. We were seated 10 rows or so from the front. Directly in front of us were a man and what I believe was his wife. It was apparent to me that this man was of the WWII generation. I distinctly remember whispering to my wife that it will be interesting to see how this man responds to the contents of the movie since he was of that vintage.

If you have never seen Saving Private Ryan, the opening 10-15 minutes are quite possibly the most intense minutes ever to play on the screen. Steven Spielberg (who was shafted by this not winning the Oscar) did as good a job of portraying the horrors of D-Day as could have ever been accomplished. This movie, along with Schindler’s List and The Passion of the Christ are definitely three “non-popcorn” movies. Eating just simply does not fit what is taking place. There are portions of this opening segment that cause you to literally gasp while remaining in your seat.

During this opening sequence the gentleman in front of me was rocking his seat back and forth at a feverish pace. I have never seen anything like it before or since. As he did this, he was continually hitting my foot which was crossed over my leg. Now, I am not a short man. I am 6’1” so there is never enough room for me in a row of seats, but I am totally honest when I tell you that I did not touch his seat once. His seat repeatedly rammed into my foot and knees however. It was so obvious that my wife noticed it as much as I did.

As this absolutely intense scene neared its end, this gentleman leaped from his seat, whirled around glared at me, pointed his finger at me and screamed, “Stop kicking my chair!”

I was totally taken back. I turned both my palms upward and looked at my wife, who nodded and said, “I know . . .”

In a previous blog, I mentioned that I often evaluate why people act as they do. As I sat watching the remaining three hours of the movie, I was thinking about this gentleman. He thought that I was kicking his chair. The movie was so intense that he had no idea that his chair was rocking back and forth in such violent fashion.

Now, I have no idea who this man is. I would not know him if he walked into my office. In another very real sense however, I do know him. This man was so into the content of this movie that he lost touch with reality. This movie was TOO REAL for him. This was no screenplay about an historical event. It was a very real event and a very real memory for him. This movie was about something in his life so real he could not overcome it. This man was marked. That evening, I sat behind a man who was scarred. I sat near a man who walked with a limp. Whatever happened to him in WWII scarred him for life. It affected him in ways I can only imagine.

In Genesis 32 there is a similar limping story. It is about a man named Jacob. Jacob has an encounter with God that changes him. Would you permit me to share the highlights of the story?

Jacob was a twin. His twin’s name was Esau. Both, he and his brother were favorites of their parents. Esau was the favorite of the Dad and Jacob the favorite of the Mom. (There is a great parenting lesson here, but I will resist.) In this paternal, male dominated culture the most prized possession among children was the blessing of the father. Couple that with being the first born and you have it all. You get the blessing and the firstborn’s share of the inheritance. It would be double what any other male child would receive. (Females could not inherit in their culture.)

In a twisted series of family events Jacob steals this blessing and birthright from his brother Esau. Esau swears revenge. Jacob has to move away from home to save his life. Twenty years pass. His mother dies. Jacob has married and has children. He now must come back home. On the journey home, he learns that his brother is coming to meet him. Remember, the last words Jacob ever heard Esau say were, “I am going to kill you.” Not the best scenario for a family reunion.

The night before the feared encounter with his brother, Jacob arranges to be alone to prepare. During that final night he has an encounter that forever changes him. God, in the form of a man comes to him and wrestles with him. As dawn nears, the angelic man touches Jacob’s hip and causes it to be out of socket. He then asks Jacob to release him. Jacob says not until he has a blessing. (Some things never change, do they?)

In what is no doubt a shocking moment, the angel says to Jacob, “What is your name?” I see Jacob slowly release the angel as he answers, “Jacob.” For you see Jacob means “cheater, deceiver, supplanter, dishonest one” or even “liar.” In order to receive a blessing, Jacob was required to admit who he was . . . a cheat. Then the blessing comes, it is in the form of a name change. His new name is “Israel.” This means “prince of God.”

But here is the final portion of the story. Jacob will now walk into this new dawn blessed with a new name; but he is visibly limping from the encounter. He will not win a physical battle with his brother or anyone else. He is injured. He is limping. Jacob is now in a situation where he must totally depend upon God. He is no longer able to handle the issue in his own power.

It did not seem too great at the moment, but this was a defining moment in the life of Jacob. It marked him. It forever changed him on numerous levels both physically, emotionally and spiritually.

As I wrote earlier, I have a limp. I actually have several of them. There are at least five major events in my life that are defining events for me. They have marked me. They have formed my character. They have made me who I am, good and bad. My entire ministry has and will forever grow from these events. Interestingly enough, they are all painful . . . some horribly so.

Okay, here is the kicker on which you have been waiting. Do you limp? What event in your life has so impacted you that it has marked you? Where is your hip that has been taken out of socket to cause you to limp? Where are you hurting?

You cannot walk from it. And strangely enough, you do not want to. It defines you.

While in seminary I once heard a chapel speaker say, “Everyone who has ever been used greatly by God has first been wounded greatly by Him.” I remember thinking to myself, “I want to be the first exception to that rule.” Well, that has not been the case.

I am of the belief that no one who is used of God escapes the limping.

Again, I ask you, “Do you limp?” Embrace it. Do not run from it. Welcome it. Allow it to shape you into a vessel that can be used by God.

Do you limp? Limp with a smile. View it as a badge of honor.