When God Asks Your Name: The Wrestling That Leads to Blessing

How Confessing Who We Are Allows God to Rename and Restore Us

There are moments in life when we stop running, stop pretending, and finally come face to face with God—and with ourselves. For Jacob, that moment came in the dark of night, by a riverbank, when the past he had fled from and the future he feared collided in a divine wrestling match.

Jacob’s name meant “deceiver.” It was more than a label—it was a story. From birth, he had grasped at heels, tricked his brother, deceived his father, and outwitted his uncle. His life was a long series of strategies and schemes. Though he’d prospered in worldly terms, Jacob had never received what he most longed for: the unconditional blessing of his father. The one blessing he had was stolen—tainted by lies. And deep down, he knew it.

Wrestling in the Dark

In Genesis 32, Jacob prepares to meet his brother Esau, whom he had deceived decades earlier. He’s afraid. So afraid, in fact, that he sends his family and possessions across the river while he stays behind. It’s there, in the dark solitude, that God meets him. Not in a vision or dream, but physically. Tangibly. And the Scripture simply says: “So Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him till daybreak.” (Genesis 32:24, NIV)

It’s easy to gloss over this moment. But Jacob doesn’t wrestle with an angel or a stranger—he wrestles with God Himself. Not metaphorically, but in gritty, exhausting reality. All night. This is not a polite prayer. This is not a quiet moment of devotion. This is a holy struggle.

How many of us have found ourselves in that place? Not understanding what God is doing, wrestling with pain, identity, fear, or failure? Feeling as though our entire lives are built on self-reliance, and yet the cracks are showing?

Jacob wrestles because something in him knows he cannot go forward without this moment.

God’s Question: What Is Your Name?

At a pivotal point in the struggle, God asks Jacob a pointed question: “What is your name?” (Genesis 32:27)

God isn’t seeking information. He’s inviting confession.

Decades earlier, when Jacob deceived his father Isaac to steal Esau’s blessing, Isaac had asked him this same question: “Who are you, my son?” And Jacob lied: “I am Esau.” (Genesis 27:18-19)

Now, years later, God brings him back to that same question—not for condemnation, but for redemption.

And this time, Jacob tells the truth.

“My name is Jacob.”

I am the deceiver. The manipulator. The one who schemes. The one who ran. The one who always thought he had to earn or steal blessing because he didn’t believe he could receive it honestly.

He owns it.

And it’s only then that God does what no one else had done: He changes Jacob’s name.

“Then the man said, ‘Your name will no longer be Jacob, but Israel, because you have struggled with God and with humans and have overcome.’” (Genesis 32:28, NIV)

Jacob—deceiver—becomes Israel—one who wrestles with God. God doesn’t erase the struggle. He honors it. He redefines it. He gives Jacob a new identity, not based on his failures, but on his faith.

A Blessing Not Earned or Stolen, But Given

It’s only after Jacob confesses who he truly is that God blesses him.

“Then he blessed him there.” (Genesis 32:29)

For the first time in his life, Jacob receives a blessing that wasn’t stolen or manipulated. He doesn’t get it by deception or strategy. He doesn’t dress up as someone else to get it. He doesn’t trick his way into it.

God blesses Jacob as Jacob. Not as Esau. Not as someone else. Not as someone he pretended to be. But as himself.

This is the turning point of Jacob’s life.

He walks away with a limp, yes—but also with a blessing.

He walks away wounded, but renamed.

He walks away different.

Why This Matters Today

So many people live like Jacob did—desperate for blessing but convinced they must earn it, pretend for it, or manipulate their way into it. We wear masks. We chase approval. We try to be someone we’re not, all the while fearing that if anyone really knew who we were, we would be rejected.

But God already knows who we are.

And He still chooses to meet us, to wrestle with us, to ask us the hard questions—not to shame us, but to transform us.

Before God can bless who you really are, you have to stop pretending to be someone you’re not.

And just like Jacob, when we’re finally honest—when we stop performing, stop hiding, stop striving—God can begin the process of transformation.

He’s not afraid of your past. He’s not limited by your failures. He’s not surprised by your scars. In fact, He often uses them to rename you.

The Father’s Blessing

Jacob had longed for his earthly father’s blessing, and he never truly received it. But in the end, he received something greater—the blessing of his heavenly Father.

You may not have had a father who affirmed you. You may have been labeled with harsh names—failure, addict, liar, misfit, broken. You may have lived a long time trying to escape those names.

But when God asks you, “What is your name?”—He’s not trying to rub your past in your face.

He’s inviting you to tell the truth so He can give you a new name.

Revelation 2:17 tells us that to the one who overcomes, God will give “a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to the one who receives it.”

God is still in the business of renaming.

But He often waits until we’re ready to come clean.

Conclusion: The Blessing Comes After the Wrestling

There’s something sacred about wrestling with God. It’s not a sign of rebellion—it’s a sign of intimacy. Only those who are close enough to grab hold of God can wrestle with Him.

If you’re in a season of wrestling, don’t despise it.

It may be the very place where God changes your name.

It may be the very moment where God blesses you—not because you earned it, not because you tricked anyone—but because you finally came as you are.

Honest.

Broken.

Ready.

Because when you finally admit your name—He gives you a new one.

And with that new name, comes the blessing you’ve been longing for all along.