When was the last time someone asked how you were truly doing? Do you ever wonder, “Does anyone even see me?”
As we prepare for the weekend, I want to share a story from the Bible that answers that question. It’s tucked away in Genesis 16, and most people overlook it on their way to Abraham and Isaac. But every time I come across it, it stops me.
A Woman Nobody Noticed
Hagar was a servant, an Egyptian girl living in Abraham and Sarah’s household. She did not choose her life and had no voice. When Sarah could not have children, Sarah handed Hagar to Abraham as a solution to a problem, not as a person, more like a tool.
Hagar became pregnant, but instead of gratitude, she experienced grief. Sarah treated her badly. When she saw that she was pregnant, her mistress became contemptible to her. (16:4) The Hebrew word for contemptible is strong; it’s the same word used to describe how the Egyptians enslaved the Israelites. This was not just a disagreement; it was cruelty.
So Hagar did the only thing she knew to do. She ran.
Picture her for a moment. Pregnant. Alone. Walking into the desert with no plan, no provision, and no one looking for her. She was not a queen or a prophet. She was not important by any measure the world uses. She was a used and discarded woman sitting by a spring of water in the middle of nowhere.
And that is exactly where God showed up.
Found by the Spring
Genesis 16:7 says the angel of the Lord found Hagar near a spring in the desert. I want you to notice the word “found.” Hagar was not looking for God. She was running from her life. But God came looking for her.
He asked her two questions. Where have you come from, and where are you going? She could only answer the first one. “I’m running away from my mistress, Sarah.” She had no plan for what came next. She just knew she could not stay where she was.
I know Christians who, as teens, left home with a backpack and ended up sleeping at a friend’s house or moving across the country to get away from the deplorable situation they were in. I’ve seen women, trapped in abusive situations that are almost beyond belief, round up their kids and leave … just to get relief. I know people who, on Friday afternoon, decided to walk away from a horrible situation at work – knowing they wouldn’t have a job on Monday morning.
They all knew what they were running from. None of them knew where they were going.
And God met every one of them. Not in a church building. Not at an altar. In the ordinary, dusty, desperate places where people end up when life falls apart.
The Name She Gave God
Here is the part that gets me.
After God spoke to her, Hagar did something that no one else in the entire Bible ever did. She gave God a name.
“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.’” — Genesis 16:13
El Roi. The God who sees me.
Not Abraham. Not Moses. Not David. A runaway servant girl in the desert gave God a name. And God kept it. He let it stand in His Word for thousands of years so that you could read it in your Bible today.
Think about what that means. The God of the universe, the one who spoke the stars into place and holds the oceans in His hand, wanted you to know that He sees you. And He chose the most unlikely person to deliver that message. Not a king on a throne. A pregnant woman by a spring of water who had nothing and nobody.
That tells you something about the heart of God. He does not just see the people on the platform. He sees the people by the road.
He Sees What Nobody Else Sees
I think about the people in our churches who live like Hagar.
The woman in the back row who comes every Sunday and sits by herself. She’s adopted a severely autistic son who is a greater challenge than we’ll ever know. But she still shows up. She still sings. And she drives home alone.
A man who is recently widowed, who shows up every Sunday, rain or shine. He greets people with a smile. We may forget that he goes home to an empty house and lives alone all week.
The single mom who works harder than we know so her kids can have a sense of a normal childhood. She is tired. And she carries a burden so heavy she cannot talk about it.
The world walks right past these people. But God does not.
El Roi sees the effort it takes to get out of bed some mornings. He sees the prayers you whisper in the car on your way to work. He sees the tears you wipe away before you walk through the door. He sees the faith it takes to keep showing up when nobody notices, and nothing seems to change.
What This Means for You
If you are reading this and you feel invisible, I want you to hear something.
You are not unseen.
The same God who found Hagar by that spring of water knows exactly where you are right now. He knows your address. He knows your situation. He knows the thing you carry that you have never told anyone about.
And He is not standing far off with His arms crossed. He is close. The psalmist said it like this:
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” — Psalm 34:18
Close. Not distant. Not distracted. Close.
This story really is the gospel in one sentence. God went to Hagar. And He comes to you.
You are seen, my friend. All the way seen. By the only One whose seeing matters most.
