The God Who Sees: Finding Yourself in the Story of Hagar

The God Who Sees: Finding Yourself in the Story of Hagar

(Genesis 16 | El Roi and the Ache of Being Overlooked)

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve felt invisible.

One moment that sticks: I was at a pastors' conference—youngest in the room, only brown guy, dressed like I missed the memo. I didn’t fit the mold. And I could feel it. The polite nods. The glances that passed right through me. I was there, but not really seen.

That wasn’t the first time I felt that ache. I remember the move from Hawaii to Las Vegas in high school. New school. New culture. New everything. And the same old feeling: Does anyone see me?

You’ve probably been there too. Maybe it was your family. Your workplace. A relationship. Or even church. Feeling unseen can make you question your worth, your identity—even whether God is paying attention.

Genesis 16 is for all of us who’ve felt invisible.

Hagar: The Story Within the Story

Genesis 16 is often treated like a side plot in Abraham’s story. But Hagar’s story is more than a footnote—it’s a mirror.

She’s an Egyptian servant. Not chosen, not free, not valued. When Sarai can’t have children, Hagar becomes a means to an end. She’s used. Then mistreated. Then discarded.

So she runs.

Into the desert. Into isolation. Into nowhere.

And that’s where God meets her—not with thunder, but tenderness. Not to demand, but to call her by name. Not to crush, but to comfort.

Hagar does something no one else in Scripture has done before her: she names God.
El Roi.
“The God who sees me.”

When the Overlooked Become Theologians

Hagar wasn’t the hero of the story. She wasn’t even in the family of promise. But God came to her first.

She becomes the first person in the Bible to name God.

Not Abram. Not Sarai. Hagar.

The overlooked becomes the theologian. The outsider becomes the one who knows God most intimately.

And she’s not the only one.

• Jesus calls Zacchaeus by name while the crowd tries to ignore him.

• He speaks to a Samaritan woman the disciples won’t even make eye contact with.

• He blesses children when others say they’re not important enough.

The God who sees isn’t just a title—it’s a pattern.

Three Faces of Feeling Overlooked

In Genesis 16, there’s more than one kind of invisibility.

• Hagar feels unwanted—used and discarded.

• Sarai feels ashamed—her barrenness consuming her identity.

• Abram feels passive—shrinking back when he should lead.

They each reflect something true about us. When we feel unseen, we either run like Hagar, grasp like Sarai, or go silent like Abram.

But God doesn’t overlook any of them. He enters their story—not just to fix it, but to reveal Himself in it.

The God Who Sees—and Seats

Jesus didn’t just see people. He made space for them.

He saw Zacchaeus and then dined at his house.
He saw the woman at the well and then revealed His identity to her.
He saw the outcast and then told a story about a feast where the outsiders were the first ones invited in.

To be seen is powerful.
To be seen and wanted? That’s divine.

“To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved…is a lot like being loved by God.” – Tim Keller

You Are Seen

This story doesn’t wrap up with everything resolved. Hagar still returns to difficulty. Sarai still struggles. Abram still has growing to do.

But they’re no longer unseen.

Maybe that’s where you are—running, aching, shrinking, doubting.
And the question haunts you: Does anyone see me?

The gospel answers with a name:
El Roi.
“I see you. I know you. And I’ve made room for you.”