We all carry a profound question in our hearts: "Am I seen?" This isn't just about being noticed for what we do, but for who we truly are. It's a universal experience to feel overlooked or invisible, even when surrounded by people. This deep longing extends to our relationship with the living God, prompting us to wonder if God truly sees our situation, our struggles, and our authentic selves, or if He simply looks past us. This fundamental human desire for recognition is one of the deepest longings we all carry. [36:27]
Genesis 16:1-6 (NIV)
Now Sarai, Abram’s wife, had borne him no children. But she had an Egyptian slave named Hagar; so she said to Abram, “The Lord has kept me from having children. Go, sleep with my slave; perhaps I can build a family through her.”
Abram agreed to what Sarai said. So after Abram had been living in Canaan ten years, Sarai his wife took her Egyptian slave Hagar and gave her to her husband to be his wife. He slept with Hagar, and she conceived.
When she knew she was pregnant, she began to look down on her mistress. Then Sarai said to Abram, “You are responsible for the wrong I am suffering. I put my slave in your arms, and now that she knows she is pregnant, she looks down on me. May the Lord judge between you and me.”
“Your slave is in your hands,” Abram said. “Do with her whatever you think best.” Then Sarai mistreated Hagar so much that she fled from her.
Reflection: When have you most acutely felt overlooked or invisible, and how did that experience shape your understanding of your own worth or your relationship with others?
Before we ever look for God, God looks for us. This is a foundational truth: God's gaze is not reactive; it initiates. Consider Hagar, an enslaved, foreign woman, pregnant and alone, fleeing into the desolate wilderness with no other options. By every social and religious measure, she was invisible, forgotten. Yet, it was precisely in this state of utter vulnerability that the angel of the Lord found her. God goes looking for the one no one else is looking for, demonstrating His active, compassionate pursuit. [42:52]
Genesis 16:7-9 (NIV)
The angel of the Lord found Hagar near a spring in the desert; it was the spring that is beside the road to Shur. And he said, “Hagar, Sarai’s slave, where have you come from, and where are you going?”
“I’m running away from my mistress Sarai,” she answered.
Then the angel of the Lord told her, “Go back to your mistress and submit to her.”
Reflection: Reflect on a time in your life when you felt most lost or alone. How might God have been actively seeking you out or drawing near to you in that season, even if you didn't recognize it at the time?
After her encounter with the divine, Hagar did something extraordinary: she named God. She declared, "You are the Lord who sees me," calling Him El Rohi. This was a profound revelation, coming not from a prophet or priest, but from the least powerful character in the story. God not only found her but spoke to her, calling her by name and locating her in her story, not to interrogate but to draw near relationally. Hagar's naming of God reveals a deep truth about His character: He is the God who sees us completely and intimately. [47:43]
Genesis 16:10-13 (NIV)
The angel added, “I will increase your descendants so much that they will be too numerous to count.”
And the angel of the Lord also said to her:
“You are now pregnant and will have a son.
You shall name him Ishmael,
for the Lord has heard of your misery.
He will be a wild donkey of a man;
his hand will be against everyone
and everyone’s hand against him;
he will live in hostility
toward all his brothers.”
She gave this name to the Lord who spoke to her: “You are the God who sees me,” for she said, “I have now seen the One who sees me.”
Reflection: What does it mean for you personally to know God as "El Rohi," the God who sees you, especially concerning aspects of your life you might feel are too small, too broken, or too complicated to matter?
Realizing that we are already seen completely and loved by God is the starting point of true transformation. This understanding shifts the practice of our faith from performance—trying to please God—to simply trust. It moves us from striving to earn His favor to receiving His abundant grace. When we grasp that God's gaze upon us is one of unconditional love, it changes everything, inviting us out of hiding and into honesty. [49:51]
1 John 4:19 (NIV)
We love because he first loved us.
Reflection: In what area of your spiritual life do you most often find yourself striving to earn God's approval, and what might it look like to intentionally shift that striving into a posture of receiving God's already-given love and acceptance?
The invitation before us is simple, yet profoundly challenging: stop hiding. We often assume God sees us with disappointment or constant evaluation, leading us to conceal parts of our lives. However, the truth is that God sees you now, with all your beauty and all your flaws, with what you carry, what you're afraid of, and even what you haven't known how to name for yourself. In Jesus Christ, God's compassionate gaze became embodied, taking upon Himself every place where we have felt unseen or forgotten. The God who saw Hagar sees you and does not turn away. [54:01]
Psalm 139:1-4 (NIV)
You have searched me, Lord, and you know me.
You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.
You discern my going out and my lying down;
you are familiar with all my ways.
Before a word is on my tongue
you, Lord, know it completely.
Reflection: Where in your life are you currently tempted to hide from God or others, and what small, courageous step could you take this week to allow yourself to be more fully seen, trusting in God's compassionate gaze?
A childhood memory of being trapped and overlooked on a playground becomes the hinge for a theological claim: God looks for the unseen. The narrative moves from that vulnerable image into Genesis 16, where Hagar—an enslaved, foreign, pregnant woman—fades into the margins of family politics and cultural shame. Scripture pauses the social order and reports a startling reversal: the angel of the Lord finds Hagar in the wilderness, speaks to her gently, calls her name, and grants a blessing. From that encounter Hagar is the first character in the story to name God El‑Rohi, “the God who sees me,” and that naming reframes divine initiative as gaze rather than reaction.
This gaze is not an evaluative stare demanding performance; it is an initiating, relational act that locates a person within God’s narrative. Being seen by God creates the conditions for true sight—only after the divine look does human vision begin to shift from hiding and striving to honest presence. The logic of transformation in the biblical arc is therefore not upward performance to earn attention but downward reception of a gaze that creates readiness to behold. Jesus embodies this same initiative: the one who sees becomes visible, taking every place of abandonment into himself and making the God who sees touchable in the cross.
The practical summons that follows is both simple and radical: stop hiding. Instead of managing a presumed impatient or disappointed divine gaze, risk being seen—bring more of the inner life into the open, loosen the grip on control, and stay present long enough to notice who is actually paying attention. That attention is not the metrics or evaluations of culture but the persistent, merciful watching of God. As eyes are opened by having first been met, a community is formed that can then learn to behold one another with humility, dignity, and grace. The passage closes in prayer and moves into the communal life of the congregation—consecrating elders and deacons to serve as tangible agents of a God who sees and does not turn away.
You can be in a crowded room full of people and still feel invisible. You can be competent and gifted and faithful and generous and still wonder if anyone notices. Not just notices what you do, but notices who you are. And if we're honest, many of us might even carry that same question in our relationship with the living God.
[00:35:35]
(31 seconds)
#SeenForWhoYouAre
And at first, this title sounds like it's about what we do, about our vision, our ability to see God, actually learning to see God more clearly. And it is that, and we'll get to it, but it's not where scripture begins. The bible's starting point is far more surprising. It's far more hopeful. Before we even look for God, God looks for us. Before we behold God, God beholds us.
[00:36:42]
(35 seconds)
#FoundBeforeSeeking
The story's details name just how unseen and how alone Hagar is, and so eventually, she runs. She's pregnant. She's alone. She's vulnerable. And so she goes to the wilderness, we're told, the place in scripture where people go when there are no other options for safety. By every social and religious measure, Hagar is invisible. Know anyone who feels like that?
[00:41:20]
(40 seconds)
#InvisibleButSeen
God calls her by name. God names her reality. God asks where are you coming from and where are you going? Not to interrogate her, not because he doesn't know for himself, but to locate her in the story. Like the story of God looking for our first parents in Genesis three, This is not a question of geography. It's a question of relationship. It's not where are you in the world? I can't find you. Do you know where you are? It's where are you with me?
[00:43:19]
(40 seconds)
#CalledByName
``The unseen one becomes the theologian, The least powerful character so far in the story is given the privilege of revealing the truth about God to the world, and notice the name that she gives him. It's not a name of power. It's not a name of judgment. It's not a name of distance. It is El Rohi, the God who sees me.
[00:47:17]
(31 seconds)
#GodWhoSeesMe
And this is the heartbeat of this entire series. Transformation does not begin with us seeing God correctly. It begins when we realize that we are already seen completely and we're still loved. Hagar names God not because she's got the right doctrine, not because she's got the right rituals, not from being but some simply from being looked at and not turned away.
[00:48:00]
(31 seconds)
#SeenAndLoved
God takes that upon himself in Christ, and he redeems those places from the inside out. And so today, the invitation is simple, but it's not easy. The invitation is not to fix yourself and get yourself together, not to prove your worth, not to see more clearly or to get it right. The invitation is to simply stop hiding.
[00:53:35]
(28 seconds)
#ComeOutOfHiding
Let your self be seen. The God who saw you, the God who saw Hagar sees you. The God who saw Hagar sees you now with all of your beauty and with all of your flaws. God sees what you carry. God sees what you're afraid of, and god sees even what you have not known how to name for yourself,
[00:54:03]
(28 seconds)
#SeenWhole
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