In Genesis 16, we find a woman running away. She’s a mistreated slave, scared, and most likely in despair. The angel of the Lord finds her and asks this:“Hagar, slave of Sarai, where have you come from, and where are you going?” As the Lord interacts with her, we read this in verse 13: “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.'”
You are the God who sees me.
I think about Hagar in strange settings where I don’t feel seen. At this one doctor’s office in town, you stand apart from the check-in counters by this wall where they obviously cannot see if someone stands in line. I felt so frustrated for days about this set-up. How can they see me? Do they know I’m here? Why am I standing here alone and ignored? Can anybody see me?
Then my daughter pointed to the ceiling where titled mirrors showed each attendant exactly who stood in line, where, and for how long. They see you. You are never not seen.
The same thing happened again as I arrived early to the English Department to work in my office. I approach the deep, dark, lonely hallway. I’m nervous because I see no light switches anywhere. I’m alone and have no idea what to do while walking toward my hallway. And then, when I’m still at least 10 yards away, the lights all click on in anticipation of my arrival. Motion sensors! Hallelujah!
The tilted mirrors. The motion sensors. Hagar. God always sees me. He’s always here. I am never not seen by Him. In Psalm 33:15, I remember that God formed us and “considers everything [we] do.” And like motion sensors that know I’m coming and have been there ahead of me all along, I think about Deuteronomy 31:8 “The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.”
He sees. He is already where you are going.