“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
I was a dramatic child. If I had to feel pain, I wanted everyone to know. The fact that others saw and validated my pain made it bearable and, in an odd way, it was almost pleasant to play the part of a martyr. Thankfully, I grew out of my tendency to be overly dramatic when I realized everyone had stopped taking my ailments seriously, but I never lost the desire for my pain to be seen by someone. Although I learned to keep quiet about my misery and not blow things out of proportion as often, I still have days when the fact that my pain is unnoticed seems more difficult to bear than the actual pain. Invisible pain is difficult to handle well.
On a day when I was feeling especially unnoticed by others, I stumbled across a verse in Genesis that launched me into a study of the names of God. My study ultimately led me face to face with one of the most comforting and terrifying attributes of the God I serve. This attribute is summed up in the name El Roi. When translated this name means “The God Who Sees.” Interestingly enough, this name of God was first spoken by Hagar - a runaway, pregnant slave who had despised her mistress. El Roi seems an odd name for Hagar to embrace considering that much of her past contained things she probably preferred to keep unseen. But, as terrifying as El Roi can be, Hagar rightly recognized this name to be a comforting truth, as well as an intimidating warning. As much as humans may try to hide their imperfections, there is a deep longing within each of us to be known. We want our daily struggles and frustrations and even our heartbreaking failures to be understood. We need a God Who Sees.
The Name El Roi declares that there will never be a day in my life when God is not aware of the struggles I encounter. He watches every tear fall, and witnesses every longing sigh. El Roi declares that God sees my secret pain, and also that He sees my secret sins. It is easy for me to want the former aspect of El Roi (the comforting assurance that He sees each difficult day) and not the later (the frightening realization that He sees my sinful reaction to those difficult days), but we can’t separate the two. If I am going to fully embrace God’s role as El Roi in my life, it means I am embracing the God who sees my failings and my success. As Job declared, “Does He [the Lord] not see my ways and number all my steps?”
We all experience heartache that no one seems to witness. Some encounter heartache at a job where others ignore the list of assignments that pile up or the coworker who misrepresents them. Others experience invisible heartache through struggles in a relationship, infertility, doubt, or health issues they would rather not discuss with others. These heartaches are real, and when other humans seem oblivious to our pain, it is tempting to believe we are alone in our hurt. But we never are. We have a God who sees. The Psalmist assures us, “The LORD looks from heaven; He sees all the children of man . . . Behold, the eye of the LORD is on those who fear him,on those who hope in his steadfast love, that he may deliver their soul from death and keep them alive in famine . . . Let your steadfast love, O LORD, be upon us, even as we hope in you.”
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