The God Who Sees Me

Scripture Readings:
Genesis 16:7, 13 (NRSV)
The angel of the Lord found her by a spring of water in the wilderness... So she named the Lord who spoke to her, "You are El-roi" [the God who sees]; for she said, "Have I really seen God and remained alive after he saw me?"

Psalm 86:11 (NRSV)
Teach me your way, O Lord, that I may walk in your truth; give me an undivided heart to revere your name.

Reflection:
Yesterday at Trinity Parish, we followed Hagar and her son Ishmael into the dry, unforgiving desert, remembering that God hears the cries of those whose resources have run dry. But today, the lectionary cycle takes us back to a chapter earlier in Hagar's story, the first time she fled into the wilderness.

Long before she was cast out with her son, Hagar was a young, pregnant servant running away from the harsh, mistreatment of Abram and Sarai. She was completely vulnerable, fleeing with no clear destination, simply seeking rest by a spring of water in the middle of nowhere.

In our modern society, we are constantly told that we need to be visible to matter. But even in a world where we curate our lives online or hustle to get noticed, it is incredibly easy to still feel profoundly unseen. We pass by folks every day who feel completely invisible: the grocery store clerk working a double shift to make ends meet, the neighbor quietly battling addiction or a mental health crisis, or the overwhelmed parent taking a deep breath in the driveway before walking inside to face the evening chaos. Sometimes, we are the ones sitting by our own metaphorical springs, wondering if anyone truly notices our exhaustion.

When the angel of the Lord finds Hagar, he doesn't immediately fix her complicated reality, but, he does acknowledge her. He speaks to her. In response, Hagar does something extraordinary: she gives God a name. She calls God El-roi, "The God who sees me." She is the only person in the entire Bible to give God a name. God wasn't just a distant, abstract deity to her; God was the one who saw her: intimately, deeply, and fully in her moment of quiet desperation.

As we step into the work of a new week, carry this truth with you. The God of the wilderness is not blind to the heavy things you are carrying today. You are seen. May we also look at the people around us, not just glancing past them in the rush of the daily grind, but truly seeing them with the compassionate eyes of El-roi.

Prayer:
El-roi, God who sees, thank you for noticing us when we feel invisible, discarded, or overwhelmed by the wilderness of our daily lives. Give us the profound comfort of knowing that your loving gaze is always upon us. Give us an undivided heart, and grant us your eyes, that we might truly see and care for the vulnerable neighbors around us today. In Christ’s name we pray. Amen.