So this morning I turned a table over. I prayed. I didn’t see angels or hear the Hallelujah chorus. I just slipped into the secret place and I talked to the One who was waiting for me there. Waiting to show me something.
“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)
I said it out loud, several times. “You are the God who sees me.”
Until I could finally admit that I was uncomfortable with that.
It’s hard to be seen, especially when we are at our worst. People go to great lengths to look their best when they know people will be looking at them. Some women won’t leave the house unless they are in full makeup and every hair is in place. I count it a good day if my socks match, because frankly, that’s the best I can do.
But I need to be okay with being seen by God. It’s much scarier than being seen by people, because I know that He sees everything I can hide from you.
So that was my prayer today.
“Help me stop hiding. Help me be willing to stand before You as who I really, really am. I want to be comfortable under Your gaze, and right now I’m not.”
And His perfectly aimed response shook the secret place.
“Because you believe that all I see is what you see. “
Nothing is hidden from His sight. Holy and unholy, the pure and the impure. Selfishness and selflessness. Disobedience, and even the smallest act of obedience. Every weakness, every imperfection, and the grace that covers all of it. His eyes miss nothing.
He is the God who sees me, and He doesn’t look away.
I prayed today. It was good.