"It’s a strange feeling," he said as he prayed, "wrestling with the one I’m trying to love." Others agreed. You could hear it under their breaths. He had struck a chord. By the one he loved he meant God, not his wife. He is an executive of a large corporation. He is responsible for many people.

I have heard him pray like this before. His prayers are always short and labored. He falters, as he rarely does in business. I have an idea such faltering is good for him. He is getting in touch with a lost part of himself. It is getting in touch with him.

He calls it wrestling. That’s all right, of course, because it’s manly. But unbeknownst to him, there’s more to it than that. It goes all the way back. Jacob wrestled with God on the banks of the River Jabbok. My friend is a modern Jacob. The story is as old as it is new. It is the age-old story of trying to find peace with God.

I have an idea such peace is on its way for my friend. It is coming through his struggle. His struggle is the submerged part of himself emerging. God is coming into view. Prayer is letting God emerge.