The God Who Sees You
“You are the God who sees me,” for she said, “I have now seen the One who sees me.” — Genesis 16:13
A dear friend of mine was having a very upsetting morning yesterday. After working very hard on a difficult project, her efforts were totally undermined and disregarded. She felt devalued in a very painful way. Trying to regain her composure, she walked to a café and ordered a cup of tea and soup. The waitress who took her order noticed her distress and, without fanfare, not only paid for her lunch but also gave her a much-needed hug.
It was a small moment, but a holy one. In that quiet act of kindness, my friend was seen.
Scripture tells us of another woman who felt invisible and discarded—Hagar. Used, mistreated, and then sent away into the wilderness, she found herself alone, pregnant, and afraid. From every human perspective, she had been forgotten. But God met her there. In the desert, God spoke to her, named her future, and assured her of provision and presence. Overwhelmed, Hagar gave God a name that still echoes with hope: El Roi, “the God who sees me.”
What’s striking is that God didn’t only see Hagar’s circumstances—God saw her. Her pain. Her fear. Her worth. And God’s seeing was not passive; it came with care, promise, and provision.
That same truth holds for us. When our work is dismissed, when our hearts are hurt, when we feel overlooked or small, God sees us fully. Sometimes that seeing comes through unexpected messengers—a stranger’s kindness, a shared meal, a simple hug. These are not accidents. They are reminders that God is near, attentive, and actively at work in our lives.
Like Hagar, we may find ourselves in wilderness moments. And like my friend in the café, we may encounter grace in quiet, ordinary ways. In all of it, God is still El Roi—the God who sees you.
God who sees us, thank You for meeting us in our pain and reminding us of our worth. Open our eyes to Your presence in unexpected places, and help us to be signs of Your compassion to others. Amen.