Invisible to God?
“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)
The month of May is Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month, and as I’ve been quietly reflecting and celebrating AAPI authors and creators, I was struck by a viral quote from actor Steven Yeun. He described his own experience as an Asian American in this way: “Sometimes I wonder if the Asian-American experience is what it’s like when you’re thinking about everyone else, but nobody else is thinking about you.”
“It’s easy to curate this perception of what we want people to see, but what does it mean to be known by God, who sees us for who we are, and all that we are?”
“Invisible” is how I would describe my own high school experience, growing up with peers who didn’t look like me or understand my Korean culture. Constantly observing others, I eventually came to accept this role of being a minor character in my own story. I didn’t feel like I was worth getting to know because I was already “known,” dismissed and labeled as “the quiet one” or “Flute Girl.” Some days, I was convinced that was all there was to me. Other days, I would desperately try to fix this perception by overcompensating in my interactions with others, which left me feeling fake and exhausted. These days, this perception is even easier to “fix” on social media. I do it all the time on my Instagram profile. A stack of books means I’m well-read. A blurry photo with some friends means I have a social life.
It’s easy to curate this perception of what we want people to see, but what does it mean to be known by God, who sees us for who we are, and all that we are?
I think Hagar must have struggled with this question when she encountered God in the wilderness while running away from her mistress Sarai.
In Genesis 16, it might be easy to dismiss Hagar as a “minor” character in Abram and Sarai’s story. As a woman and a servant, not only was she invisible in her society, but she was also pregnant with Abram’s child—the result of Abram and Sarai’s attempts to fulfill a promise that God had delayed answering. But she was not a minor character to God, and her story reminds us that:
God pursues us
God pursued Hagar when she ran away. We’re told that “the angel of the Lord found Hagar near a spring in the desert; it was the spring that is beside the road to Shur.” (Gen. 16:7). God seeks us out in those moments when we’re feeling vulnerable and alone.
God understands us
This was a painful time in Hagar’s life, and I love that God, knowing her situation completely, still asks, “...where have you come from, and where are you going?” (v. 8). He also reassures her that “...the Lord has heard of your misery.” (v. 11). We can be honest about our problems with God just as Hagar was (v. 8) because we know he hears us.
God provides for us
God gave Hagar a promise to hold onto: hope for her future and the son she was carrying (v. 10-12). When God asked her to go back to Sarai and Abram, Hagar obeyed and returned with a newfound understanding of who God was. We know this because during their encounter, Hagar gives God the name “El Roi,” which means “You are the God who sees me.” (v. 13).
In a world where everyone is striving to be seen and heard, Hagar’s story reminds us that we don’t ever have to fight for God’s attention. Because the God who saw Hagar also sees you and me.
Daneem Kim serves as a youth leader at Maine Street Baptist Church in Brunswick, Maine.
