Wrastling

Admit it. You have a favorite adjective that you like to use to describe yourself. Besides writer and author, I love to call myself an old tomboy. Why not? I have been a tomboy my whole life. The word “old” is kinda recent though.
When I was a little girl, er tomboy, I absolutely loved to wrastle. By the way, that’s how we pronounce the word wrestle here in East Tennessee. Anyway, I would have rather done that than eat. In fact, I often tell people I learned how to wrastle before I could part my hair straight. No joke. The next time you see me, check out my part.
My uncle and I used to wrastle in Mamaw Jo’s living room. She called it “rough housing” and it drove her crazy. We didn’t care. Nothing was going to stop us from wrastling. Not even injuries. There were several times my head came in contact with furniture that was too heavy to scoot out of our way. I would sit for a while with ice on my head and then go at it again.
Let me tell you, we wrastled hard. This was not just playtime for me. Oh no. I wrastled to win and put everything I had into it. But, alas, my uncle was older and bigger than me and would always manage to pin me down to the floor with my face in the carpet. He’d triumphantly tell me, “Why you’re face is down there, get you some cow dookie!” It's up to your imagination to figure out what he meant by “cow dookie.”
It never failed. That was the moment Mamaw Jo would run into the living room while yelling, “Brooke! Leave him alone.”

“And Jacob was left alone; and there wrestled a man with him until the breaking of the day. And when he saw that he prevailed not against him, he touched the hollow of his thigh; and the hollow of Jacob’s thigh was out of joint, as he wrestled with him. And he said, Let me go, for the day breaketh. And he said, I will not let thee go, except thou bless me.” Genesis 32:24-26 (KJV)
When I was girl, there was a picture in my Sunday school booklet of Jacob wrestling with an angel who had large magnificent wings. Naturally, this little wrastler was enamored by it. But I knew it wasn’t a playful match like my uncle and I had in Mamaw Jo’s living room. I believe this was very intense. As I said, I didn’t hold back and wrastled with everything I had. I dare say it was the same for Jacob in that he wrestled with all the strength and ability he could muster. For him, it was no holds barred and he wasn’t going to just give up.
As for my uncle, I knew he held back. The Lord did the same with Jacob in that He allowed Jacob to actually wrestle with Him all night. I think He did it to not only build Jacob’s strength and character, but to also prepare him for what was to come. By the way, nothing or nobody can conquer The Lord. Not even death itself. (Revelation 1:18.)
If you’re wondering if I still wrastle now, no, I don’t. While I do miss it from time to time, I don’t miss my face being pushed into the carpet and hearing, “Get you some cow dookie!”
Brooke Cox is an author, speaker, and storyteller. She was a 2016 Selah Awards Finalist for Debut Novel. Her children’s book: “Dinosaur Eggs,” is now available. It is based on Ephesians 6: The Armor of God. Her novel “Until the Moon Rises: A Conniving Cousin Mystery” is also available. Also, she has two books out in her storytelling series: “Saucy Southern Stories.” The Amazon links for her books may be found on her website: brookecoxstories.com. Please feel free to contact her. She would love to hear from you.