The Lord Who Sees Me
“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
Introduction:
A Wilderness Encounter
She wasn't a queen or prophetess.
She wasn’t looking for God.
She was simply a servant—pregnant, exhausted, rejected, and running.
This is Hagar’s story. A story not
just of escape, but of encounter. Not just of tears, but of transformation.
She fled from pain, but was found by
purpose.
She ran from people, but was seen by God.
She called Him El Roi—“The God who sees me.”
And that changed everything.
1.
The Woman Nobody Wanted to See
Hagar’s journey begins in the
shadows. She is not the heroine of the story. In fact, in the eyes of Abraham
and Sarai, she was never meant to be anything more than a vessel—an object to
be used.
- She was a foreigner in a Hebrew household.
- She was a slave with no voice in the arrangement made
about her body and her future.
- When she did conceive, she was despised by the very
woman who gave her to Abraham.
- Mistreated. Oppressed. Unwanted.
So she ran—into the wilderness. Into
nowhere. Into the unknown.
How many of us have been there?
Running—not always physically, but
emotionally, spiritually. Running from pain, misunderstanding, abuse, or shame.
But what she didn’t know was that
someone was watching her. Not to judge, but to pursue her. Not to punish, but
to restore.
2.
God Finds Her by a Spring
In a barren place, God meets her.
Not in a temple. Not in a crowd. But at a lonely spring in the desert.
“The angel of the LORD found Hagar
near a spring in the desert…” (Genesis 16:7)
This is the first recorded
appearance of the angel of the LORD—a visible manifestation of God
Himself. He doesn’t just stumble upon her. He finds her.
He calls her by name: “Hagar, servant
of Sarai.”
He knows where she came from and what she’s running from.
This moment echoes the words of Psalm
139:
“You search me, LORD, and You know
me… Where can I go from Your Spirit? Where can I flee from Your presence?”
(Psalm 139:1, 7)
Even in the desert of despair, God
is already there.
3.
The God Who Sees and Speaks
God doesn’t scold Hagar. He speaks
with care and commission.
“Go back to your mistress and submit
to her.” (Genesis 16:9)
A hard instruction—but not a cruel
one. God was not sending her back into abuse, but back into purpose.
He gives her a prophetic promise:
“You are now pregnant and you will
give birth to a son. You shall name him Ishmael (God hears), for the
LORD has heard of your misery.” (Genesis 16:11)
In her deepest affliction, God
both sees and hears.
This is no longer just Sarai’s
servant. She is now a woman who bears the name of God’s listening into the
world—Ishmael will forever remind her that God hears.
And her response is even more
profound:
“You are the God who sees me… I have
now seen the One who sees me.” (Genesis 16:13)
She gives God a name—El Roi.
The God who sees.
The God who found her in her flight.
The God who didn't ignore her tears or her story.
4.
From the Margins to the Miracle
Hagar’s story shows us that God
sees the unseen.
- He sees the servant girl, not just the master.
- He sees the one used, not just the one chosen.
- He sees your tears in the dark, your questions
in the quiet, your wounds in the waiting.
Psalm 139 reminds us again:
“You perceive my thoughts from afar…
You are familiar with all my ways… You knit me together in my mother’s womb…
All the days ordained for me were written in Your book.” (Psalm 139:2, 3, 13,
16)
God saw Hagar not just as a maid,
but as a mother of nations.
He gave her identity, prophecy, and dignity.
5. A Word to the Ones Who Are Running
You may be where Hagar was:
·
Running from a painful place.
·
Pregnant with purpose, but full of fear.
·
Wondering if anyone sees you or cares about the
agony beneath your obedience.
Hear this:
God
sees you.
He hears you.
He finds you where others leave you.
He has a promise for your pain and a
mission for your return.
Sometimes the place we’re running from is the
very place where God will show His power—through us.
He doesn’t just see where you are.
He sees what you’re becoming.
Hagar’s
Wilderness Is Our Story Too
This isn’t just a story from ancient scrolls—it’s the reality of today’s
silent sufferers.
Many of us are more like Hagar than we want to
admit.
·
Emotionally
rejected — feeling like an outsider in your family, your
community, or even your church.
·
Used
or betrayed — by those who should have protected you.
·
Carrying
burdens alone — a child, a secret, a wound, a regret.
·
Running
from something — maybe not with your feet, but with your soul.
You may be:
·
A mother trying to hold it all together while
silently breaking down.
·
A single person tired of waiting, wondering if
anyone sees your loneliness.
·
A weary servant of God wondering if your
obedience still matters.
·
Someone broken by loss, abuse, burnout, or
silence.
Like Hagar, you may feel invisible.
But you are not.
El Roi sees you.
Just as Psalm 139 says:
“You perceive my thoughts from afar… Where can
I flee from Your presence? Even there Your hand will guide me, Your right hand
will hold me fast.” (Psalm 139:2,7,10)
God is not watching from a distance—He is pursuing with compassion.
Reflection
Are you in a wilderness place right
now?
Do you feel invisible—like your story doesn’t matter?
Remember Hagar.
God saw her.
God sees you.
Don’t mistake your hiddenness for
abandonment.
Don’t confuse silence for absence.
The God who sees—El Roi—is near.
Prayer
Lord,
thank You that even when I feel forgotten, You see me. Even when I run, You
follow with compassion. You call me by name, You speak into my wilderness, and
You commission my future. Help me to trust the One who sees and sends, the One
who knows and loves. I rest in Your gaze, El Roi. Amen.
Closing
Whisper
You are not forgotten in the desert
heat,
Not overlooked where dry winds meet.
He sees your tears and your weary frame,
And calls you gently, speaks your name.
El Roi watches while others turn away—
And walks with you into a brighter day.
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