Seen

May 25 2026 Seen

The first time I accidentally flipped my phone to selfie mode, I screamed. A tired middle‑aged woman had broken into my house and stolen my phone. Looking at myself from that perspective was and is brutal: all the flaws, wrinkles, and scars magnified. There is no hiding. We often hear therapy-speak about people needing to be truly seen. Close selfie mode is not the answer.

Yet our world is louder than ever in its hunger to be noticed. Celebrity and influencer culture has soaked into nearly every corner of our lives. And here’s the thing we all know but need reminding: being seen is not the same as being known. Nor is it the same as being valued.

There is a woman in scripture who knows something about being seen. In Genesis 16:13-16, after fleeing Abram’s household, Hagar found herself in the wilderness: tired, mistreated, overwhelmed, and terribly alone.

Not exactly her Instagram influencer highlight reel.

Yet here we encounter the first time in the Bible where a human gave God a personal name based on their own experience. “I have now seen the One who sees me.”

And like Hagar, isn’t that where we often feel unseen? Not in the big, shiny moments, but in the quiet, emotionally trying, exhausting, repetitive ones. Our own kind of wilderness. His gaze is upon us as we feel tossed out, or when the camera and mirror surprise us. When parenting feels impossible, and it seems all we are good for is a ride to practice and money for snacks. When our spouse takes us for granted or dismisses our opinion. When a coworker or manager takes credit for our job well done.

Despite her situation, Hagar began to grasp the truth that she was beloved by her Maker. El Roi changes how we view ourselves. When we believe we’re unseen, we hustle for worth. Compare. Strive. Overcompensate. We hide our real selves.

But when we remember that God sees us—fully, lovingly, intentionally—something shifts. We feel His enfolding. We stop performing and believing that our value is tied to our productivity, appearance, or stage of life.

In this season, as I absorb and hold fast to this truth, I start to accept the aging face in the mirror (but not the one on the phone!) and embrace the whitening hair. I lean into the God who sees me as Hagar did. Not as a young, seemingly perfect influencer, but as His beloved daughter. My full self, basking in the truth that I am held and valued. Oh so seen and oh so known.

And you, my friend, El Roi sees and knows you. His valued one. His beloved.