The God 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 16:3

The desert stretches with no end in sight. Sand and stone. Sun and silence. The wind blows, but it brings no relief, only clouds of dust in short, violent storms. Hagar walks until she can walk no more. She stops. There is no one here. No voices calling her name. No tents. No shade. Only the sound of her own uneven breathing, and the hot desert wind. She lowers herself to the ground and closes her eyes. For a long time, she does not move. The world has gone quiet around her. Then—a presence. Unseen. But known. Hagar opens her eyes. Nothing has changed. The desert still stretches wide. The sky still spreads endlessly above her. The silence remains. But she is not alone. The One who made the heavens and the earth has not forgotten her. He has not turned away. For the first time since she fled, Hagar is no longer lost. She is seen.

Today’s Scripture comes from one of the most painful and morally complex stories in the Book of Genesis. Sarai and Hagar’s story is about God’s promises, of course, but it does something else, too. It forces us to confront profound ethical questions—questions about power, dignity, and how human beings treat each other.

Sarai offers Hagar to Abram, without asking Hagar’s opinion, without considering her voice, her choice, or her dignity. Hagar, a servant, finds herself used—her body becoming a means to an end.

And this isn’t just an ancient story from the days of enslavement and servitude. These same human tendencies are still alive today. We see them in the corridors of power, in our workplaces, in our communities, and sometimes even within our families.

Human beings have a dark tendency to use others while pursuing their own goals—convincing ourselves that the ends justify the means.

Jewish tradition teaches that the heroes of the Bible were not perfect. They were holy, but they were human—just like us. And that is what makes today’s verse so powerful.

Even as Hagar was voiceless, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob heard her.

When Hagar fled into the wilderness, alone and abandoned, God met her there.

And Hagar gave God a name: El Roi—“the God who sees me.”

In a world where people are often unseen… where the vulnerable are ignored… where the exploited are forgotten… God sees.

God sees the wounded. God sees the abused. God sees the lonely. God sees the ones who feel like they don’t matter.

And this Scripture reminds us of our calling: to treat every human being as an image-bearer of God—worthy of dignity, respect, and compassion.

The God who saw Hagar still sees today… and He calls His people to see, too.