Behold, the eye of the Lord is on those who fear him, on those who hope in his steadfast love. Psalm 33:18 (ESV).
Hagar
Narrowed eyes, an aggressive stance, and ugly words spit in rage; I may have deserved it, but the hostility in Sarai’s high-pitched voice shocked me. Everyone in the vicinity knew her threats were no joke. Lately this was the norm: my mistress’s anger raining down on me, not only in her words, but in her treatment too.
I ran to my tent and threw my meagre belongings into a blanket roll. As an Egyptian servant, I didn’t own much. I was clearly no longer welcome in Sarai’s life. So, I headed into the wilderness alone, with no destination no hope for my future. I had messed everything up. Memories swirled around in my head like dark storm clouds as I set out.
Sarai had always treated me well as her handmaid. In fact, she had chosen me – handpicked ME – to be her surrogate, to bear Abram, the heir she could not give him.
It was awkward at first, being used that way, expecting me to have relations with her husband – a man who would never love me or take me as his wife.
I kicked a stone and sent it flying as I remembered how I had felt: just one more humiliation as a servant. My worn-out sandals were not meant for such a journey as this, but I continued walking after a quick inspection of my stinging toes.
At first, I hadn’t realized the prestige and honor this role would bring me. Rather than a demotion, the surrogate position put me in a place of esteem. I no longer had to do the menial chores from sun-up to sun-down. I ate the same food as Sarai and Abram so I would be healthy when I conceived. It wasn’t royal treatment, but I wasn’t suffering. At least Abram was kind and gentle, clearly trying to keep his wife happy with this arrangement.
The problems started when I forgot my place. I was proud to be the chosen one, proud to be given this opportunity to show my worth. And pride goeth before destruction. My destruction was impending.
My attitude toward Sarai slipped little by little into one of contempt and disdain. The fact that I called her by name, even in my thoughts, bore testimony to my disrespect. An older woman who couldn’t bear children; how could she measure up to me – young and strong, still in my child-bearing prime? She couldn’t give Abram the one thing he wanted more than anything in the world, but I could.
I crossed the line. I looked down on her and made little comments to make her feel bad. I held my head up too high, my nose in the air, rather than nodding submissively to her. Yes, I forgot my place.
When Sarai complained to Abram about me, witnesses said he threw his arms up in frustration. “This was your idea, Sarai! She’s your handmaid. Do with her as you wish!”
I still didn’t expect the treatment I received. Sarai became a madwoman, and I was the recipient of her tumult. Her uncontrolled anger sent me fleeing on this lonely, dusty path to nowhere.
When I found a spring near the road, I stopped and gulped the fresh water greedily. I fell onto a large rock and allowed all the pent-up emotion to pour out of me. What had I done? Where would I go? Was I to die alone in the wilderness?
But I didn’t die. God saw me. God, the Father of all nations, saw me and heard my cries. He sent an angel to speak to me, to tell me what to do. He said I carried Abram’s son and that I would have many descendants – me! A Slave! I was to name him Ishmael which means “God hears”, for the Lord heard my distress when I called out to Him.
This news would not cause pride as before. In fact, the angel instructed me to return to my mistress and to submit to her authority. This took courage and humility, but it is best to listen when God takes time to speak to you in this way.
From that day on, I always refer to God as El Roi, the God who sees me. It was on that day that I realized how much He cares about each one of us, not just the rich or the powerful. El Roi sees me.
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He Sees Us
You can read the real account of Hagar’s story in Genesis 16. Please forgive my boldness in fictionalizing her story, but I love getting into the heads of characters from the Bible and imagining how they felt.
If God stopped to see a disobedient, disrespectful slave and cared enough to send His messenger to rescue her, He would also take time to see us. When we struggle with life’s challenges, and we feel alone, God sees us. He cares. He hears our distress.
According to Jeremiah 29:11, God has a plan for our lives. He wants to step in and lead us into our destiny with His plans to prosper and not to harm, plans to give us hope and a future. Sometimes, He puts something or someone in our path to nudge us back into His will. But sometimes, He waits for us to extend an invitation. He longs for us to say, “El Roi, not my will, but Yours be done.” We can fully trust in the God who sees us.
Father, thank You for seeing me. Only You can see the person hiding behind the masks and perceptions of outward appearances. You see my heart. You know my hurts, and You feel my pain. When I am tempted to wallow in self-pity, remind me to invite You in and allow You to take control. Just as You used Hagar to help build Your nation, El Roi, use me for Your glory.
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