“Oh God, with all our hearts, we long for you. Come, transform us to be Christ-Centered, Spirit-Empowered, Mission-Focused people, multiplying disciples everywhere.”
We’ve recently been ending our services by reciting our denomination’s vision prayer. In doing so, we are praying along with over 400 other Alliance churches across the country that we would be transformed so that we could create and multiply disciples.
This next series in To The Pointe will be short devotionals that will look at each phrase of the vision prayer and will tease out what it might mean for us to pray it with sincerity and to see it come to fruition in our lives. Today, we look at the first phrase: “Oh God, with all our hearts, we long for you.”
Read: Genesis 32:1-32
Jacob: The Grasper
From birth, Jacob’s life was marked by striving. He came out of the womb grasping his twin brother’s heel trying to pull ahead. And he kept living that way. He deceived his brother Esau out of a birthright. He tricked his father to steal a blessing. He manipulated his way to success.
Jacob’s life was about taking control. Until now.
In Genesis 32, Jacob is about to face Esau again after many years apart and he’s terrified. He sends his family and possessions across the river and is left utterly alone.
And then, without explanation, God arrives and a struggle breaks out: “A man wrestled with him until daybreak.” (v.24)
It’s such a strange scene. No words, no preamble, just a long, exhausting, physical struggle. Later, after the struggle was over, Jacob realizes who he has been wrestling: “I saw God face to face, and yet my life was spared.”
Why does God meet Jacob this way?
Because God knows Jacob. He knows how Jacob relates to the world: through control, force, striving. And so God doesn’t preach a sermon or send a vision—He engages Jacob on Jacob’s terms. And eventually, God ends the match. He touches Jacob’s hip, dislocating it with a single move. Just a touch and Jacob is undone.
This isn’t a contest where Jacob stood any chance at successfully overpowering his opponent. It’s was confrontation with grace; Jacob only received a dislocated hip.
From Fighting to Clinging
But then something shifts within Jacob; he stops wrestling to win and starts clinging for a blessing: “I will not let you go unless you bless me,” (v.26) he says.
That is the cry of a man who has come to the end of himself. And it’s the heart of longing.
Jacob has spent a lifetime taking things by force. But now, in the dark and with a limp, he realizes something deeper: what he truly needs can only be received and not taken. This is the moment of surrender. Of transformation. And God responds by giving Jacob a new name:
“You will no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, because you have struggled with God and with humans and have overcome” (v.28).
Jacob, “the grasper,” becomes Israel, “the one who wrestles with God.” His limp will remain, but so will the blessing. Jacob’s encounter reminds us that God often hides Himself; not to abandon us, but to draw us deeper.
If you’ve ever felt like God is silent or distant, you’re not alone. That experience is all over Scripture: in Job’s cries, David’s psalms, Jesus’ own words on the cross. God hides not because He doesn’t care, but because He is inviting us to seek Him.
Sometimes the most intimate encounters with God don’t come through clarity, but through wrestling.
When God feels far off, it’s easy to back away. But maybe that’s when we need to press in, to be honest, to bring our doubts, questions, frustrations, to keep showing up, to cling, even when we don’t understand.
That’s what longing looks like: not a perfect prayer life, but a heart that refuses to let go.
Stop Settling
Too often, we live with low expectations of God. We pray small. We guard our hearts from disappointment. We tell ourselves, “Don’t get your hopes up.” But longing means daring to hope. To believe that God wants to meet us. To trust that He is still speaking, still healing, still blessing.
Yes, we must be content in all circumstances—but contentment isn’t the same as apathy. God invites us to ask, seek, knock, not timidly, but with the boldness of those who know they are loved.
So if you’ve been keeping your expectations of God low, maybe to protect yourself, it’s time to stop settling. You were made to seek Him with all your heart.
Where Are You Now?
Maybe you’re in a season of wrestling. God feels distant. Prayers seem unanswered. If that’s you, don’t let go. Keep clinging. Let others hold faith for you when yours is weak.
Or maybe you’ve been passive. You’ve gone quiet spiritually. Maybe it’s time to re-engage. Not with a polished spiritual performance, but with honest pursuit.
Or maybe you’re in a season of clarity and joy. If that’s you, press in even more. Show up for others. Your faith can be a lifeline for someone else who’s barely hanging on.
Wherever you are, God is near. He may not show up in the way you expect, but He will meet you. And He’s not looking for perfection, He’s looking for your heart.
Cling to Him
Jacob walked away from his encounter with a limp, but also a blessing. He was marked forever by his meeting with God. May we be the same. Let’s be a people who don’t let go easily. A people who wrestle, who cling, who long.
“Oh God, with all our hearts, we long for You.”
Let that be more than a lyric. Let it be our prayer. Let it be our way of life.