Sovereign God,
You are the One who sees behind every disguise,
who hears every cry of a heart reaching for blessing.
Isaac grew old.
His eyes were dim.
He tried to bless in secret
what You had already spoken in light.
Lord, how often I reach for Your favor
on my own terms.
I try to secure blessing my way,
instead of submitting to Yours.
Rebekah overheard
and plotted.
Jacob obeyed
and lied.
They wrapped a promise in goatskin,
they masked truth with deception,
and they took what wasn’t offered.
I confess
I’ve done the same.
I’ve tried to help You fulfill Your word
on my timeline.
I’ve manipulated moments
instead of waiting in trust.
I’ve disguised myself to get what I want
hiding behind words,
roles,
and performance.
But You do not need my deception
to accomplish Your will.
Your purpose was always Jacob.
But Jacob didn’t know how to receive
without pretending to be someone else.
Lord, forgive me
for every time I’ve believed
I had to pretend to be someone else
to be blessed by You.
Let me come honestly,
with trembling hands and open heart
and let that be enough.
Isaac trembled when the truth came out.
He couldn’t undo the blessing.
And Esau wept
the kind of cry that tears the soul.
“Bless me also, O my father!”
God, those words pierce me.
So many around me are crying out for blessing
approval, love, a place to belong.
Let me never withhold what I can give.
Let me never be blind
to those right in front of me,
hungry for grace.
Esau’s cry didn’t change the outcome.
But it matters.
Pain matters.
Even when it’s mixed with pride,
with regret,
with misunderstanding.
You are the God who can redeem
even the broken blessing,
even the family torn by favoritism,
even the wounds passed down like inheritance.
So I bring You my family
the blessing and the burden,
the favoritism and the fallout,
the lies we’ve told,
and the pain we’ve caused.
I bring You the mess
and ask You to still work mercy.
You are the God
who fulfills promises through flawed people.
Who uses the deceiver
to bring forth the Deliverer.
Who doesn’t condone sin
but weaves redemption through it anyway.
So I trust You.
Even when my story has shadows.
Even when blessing feels stolen.
Even when I’ve worn masks too long.
Speak again.
Bless again.
Heal what deception has broken.
Restore what grief has lost.
In the name of Jesus,
the True and Better Firstborn,
who gave His blessing freely,
not through deceit,
but through sacrifice
Amen.