Seen

Hey there beautiful soul! Welcome back!

I was reflecting on the story of Hagar the other day. Yes, that Hagar of Genesis 16. The one who found herself smack in the middle of a divine soap opera she didn’t ask to be cast in. Imagine being told by your boss that your next assignment is having a baby with her husband. No HR department to appeal to, no “let me pray about it” buffer. Just boom! You’re the surrogate.

Now that I know what I know about pregnancy, birth, and those glorious (read: chaotic) early years of parenting, let me just say, mad respect to every woman who, regardless of her circumstances, makes the choice to carry life and show up every day for that little human. It is not for the faint of heart. Sleep is a myth. Your body changes zip code. And your emotions? They decide to go on a roller-coaster ride without asking.

But Hagar? She didn’t get to choose. She had no say. She was a slave. No one asked if she was emotionally ready, physically able, or even remotely attracted to the seed bearer (awkward!). Her body became a battleground for someone else’s plan. She was treated like she didn’t matter, like she was invisible. As if she was a child of a lesser god.

And even though she lived in the tent next door to the promises of the Almighty, it probably felt like God’s eyes skipped over her. So when she started throwing a little shade her boss lady’s way. Part of me gets it. That might’ve been the only power she had left to remind everyone, “Hey! I have value. I carry life. I exist.”

Of course, boss lady didn’t take that too well and things got nasty. Hagar ran away pregnant, tired, broken into the wilderness. And there, by a spring of water (isn’t that just like God?), something beautiful happened. God saw her.

Not just her situation. Not just the baby. Her. He met her in her wilderness and spoke promise over her pain: “I will multiply your descendants exceedingly…” and “The Lord has heard your affliction.” And Hagar, overwhelmed, gave Him a name:

El Roi - The God Who Sees Me.

Whew!

Can you imagine the shift in her spirit? She left that desert encounter still pregnant, still a servant, still going back to a hard place; but now, she knew she was seen by the Most High. I picture her walking back with a different kind of weight. Not the heaviness of rejection, but the strength of hope. That’s what being seen by God does. It changes everything, even if nothing around you has changed.

And friend, let me tell you, haven't I had my own Hagar moments. Maybe not the exact storyline, but the same soul cry “Does anyone see me?” I’ve had people manage my life like it was their Netflix profile. My name has been left out of decision-making rooms. My narrative edited without my consent. The people I thought would protect me? They clapped as the curtain fell on my lowest moments. I felt invisible. Dismissed. Unseen.

But my God. oh!

The El Roi saw me. Right there in the wilderness of my life, by my own little spring of tears, He came through.

He sent provision when my bank account played hide and seek.

He surrounded my kids and me with angels disguised as friends.

He performed miracles in rooms I never entered.

He gave me strength when brushing my teeth felt like running a marathon.

He shielded me from shame, and taught me how to focus forward.

He has given me escape routes from health conditions when medical reports declared otherwise.

He filled my mind with worship music that sang over my weary soul.

He whispered hope through rainbows, scriptures, and even quiet moments on park benches.

He welcomed my messy prayers, my ugly cries, and all the “God, where are You?” questions.

And when I wailed and lamented in deep anguish, I promise I could feel His presence stroking my hair like a parent saying, “Shh, baby, I’m here. It’s going to be alright.”

He saw me.

And He sees you.

Yes, you. Reading this right now, wondering if you matter. Wondering if your wilderness will ever end. You didn’t stumble here by accident. This is your spring. This is your moment.

El Roi sees you. He hears your affliction. He’s already prepared your promise.

So breathe, friend. Cry if you need to. Walk if you can. Crawl if you must. But go forward knowing this truth:

You. Are. Seen.

To the Sarais walking among us (both men and women), this is a gentle and holy nudge. I see your pain too. Waiting is hard. Disappointment runs deep. And in the fog of frustration, it’s easy to make choices that unintentionally wound those with less power or fewer options. But we are never called to fulfill God’s promises by stepping over someone else’s dignity. Your Hagar wasn’t just a means to an end. She too was God’s beloved child. Just like you.

For you, brethren, have been called to liberty only do not use liberty as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another. Galatians 5:13

This doesn’t cancel you. You don’t have to wear the label of villain. But you can choose to be part of the healing. The same God who sees the hurting also calls those with power to listen. To repent. To make peace. To restore. To make space. To try again, with more humility, more grace, and more love. To become someone who doesn’t just receive blessing, but becomes one. To lift others up, especially the ones the world calls “less than.”

It’s not too late to do better. “His mercy is more”

Stay tuned, stay blessed!

Harmoniously yours!

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Which faith tune reminds you of ‘being seen’ by El Roi that should be on everyone's playlist?

Please share in the comments below.

We will also add it to the Songtimony Playlist on Spotify for everyone to be blessed!