What’s Your Name?

He can find you, too. He can free you.

When Isaac was old and his eyes were dim so that he could not see, he called Esau his older son and said to him, “My son;” and he answered, “Here I am.” He said, “Behold, I am old; I do not know the day of my death. Now then, take your weapons, your quiver and your bow, and go out to the field and hunt game for me, and prepare for me delicious food, such as I love, and bring it to me so that I may eat, that my soul may bless you before I die.” Now Rebekah was listening when Isaac spoke… ~Genesis 27:1-5

Hiding who you are can get kind of complicated. Just ask Jacob.

Eavesdrop. New plot.
Need hair. Goats caught.

Mom cooks. Change clothes.
Goat skins. Here goes!

Deep breath. Play the game.
“Hi, Dad.” “What’s your name?”

Have you ever wondered if Jacob’s own hairs were standing on end underneath the goat hair that covered them? Have you ever wondered what it felt like for him to know that if the man blessing him really knew what was under the surface, he wouldn’t have given him a blessed thing? I’ve long thought that the question must have weighed heavily on Jacob.

“What’s. Your. Name.”

Head up. Set jaw.
Deep Breath. “Esau.”

And just like that – Isaac’s blessing belonged to him. The dew of heaven, the fatness of earth, grain, wine, servants, nations, brothers bowing down – it was all his for the small price of… himself.

Have you ever pretended so you could be accepted? Faked it so you could get something you really wanted? Fibbed to keep yourself from losing something you thought you needed? Lost yourself somewhere along the way?

Hiding who you are can get kind of complicated. Jacob knows.

But get this: the God of his father Isaac and his grandfather Abraham – He was the kind of God who would put skin on and go looking for the lost. He was the God-Man who would give the ones He loved the picture of Himself as the Shepherd leaving the fold to find just one lost sheep.

He can find you, too. He can free you.

And Jacob? Jacob knew about that, too. Twenty years after his big moment of pretense, he got found pretty powerfully.

All alone. Starry patch.
Strange man. Wrestling match.

Day breaks. Hip touch.
“Let me go.” “Not so much.”

Deep breath. New game.
“Bless me first.” “What’s your name?”

Have you ever wondered if Jacob’s hairs stood on end above the hip that had just been knocked out of socket? Have you ever wondered what it felt like to have another chance to receive a blessing actually meant for him? I’ve long thought that the question must have lifted a twenty-year weight off of Jacob.

“What’s. Your. Name.”

Head jerks. Wakes up.
Deep smile. “Jacob.”

And just like that – a new name and a blessing beyond his wildest dreams were his, reserved especially for him by the One Who came to seek and save the lost.

So to all the precious people who have looked for blessings from lesser sources and gotten lost along the way, I suspect that if Jacob were around and were privy to your story, he’d limp up to you and remind you that there is a better Source, a good Shepherd, One Who knows those that are His, One who sets them free until they are free indeed.

He can find you, too. He can free you.

Just ask Jacob.

 

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