01/28/2026
Devotion
Seen by the God Who Sees
Focus Scripture: 1 Samuel 16:7 (NIV)
“The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”
There’s something incredible that happens when someone truly sees you. Not just a quick glance or a polite acknowledgment, but when someone looks past your carefully constructed exterior and recognizes the person you really are underneath. In those rare moments, something inside us exhales. We feel known. We feel valued. We feel like we matter.
In our hurried, distracted world, we’ve become experts at surface-level interactions. We nod at the cashier while scrolling through our phones. We exchange pleasantries with coworkers without really listening or even looking up. We wave at neighbors whose names we’ve forgotten. These moments of recognition are polite, even necessary, but they barely scratch the surface of what our souls are longing for. We’re all walking around with stories tucked inside us, hopes we’re afraid to voice, and wounds we’ve learned to hide. And deep down, we’re all wondering the same thing: Does anyone really see me?
The truth revealed throughout Scripture is that God does more than recognize us. He sees us. Completely. Intimately. Lovingly. He is El Roi, the God who sees, and this isn’t just one of His many attributes. It’s central to who He is and how He relates to us.
When the prophet Samuel was searching for Israel’s next king, he stood before Jesse’s sons, impressed by their height, their strength, their commanding presence. Surely one of these impressive men would be God’s chosen one. But God gently corrected Samuel’s vision, reminding him that human beings are drawn to what glitters on the outside while God is captivated by what’s real on the inside. God looks at the heart. He sees past our résumés and our Instagram feeds. He sees past our accomplishments and our failures. He sees the tender places we try to protect and the dreams we’re afraid to speak out loud.
This truth became powerfully real for a woman named Hagar. You might remember her story from Genesis 16. She was a servant, powerless and overlooked, caught in the complicated dynamics of Abraham and Sarah’s household. When circumstances became unbearable, she ran. She found herself alone in the wilderness, pregnant and afraid, with nowhere to go and no one who cared. In that desolate place, when she felt most invisible, most forgotten, most alone, God met her. He spoke to her. He saw her pain and her fear. He knew her story and her name. And Hagar, overwhelmed by this encounter, gave God a name that would echo through the ages: El Roi, the God who sees me.
Hagar wasn’t just noticed in that moment. She was seen. There’s a profound difference. To be noticed is to register on someone’s radar. To be seen is to be understood, valued, and affirmed in your full humanity. Hagar experienced what every human heart craves: the knowledge that we are not invisible, that our pain matters, that our story is known.
This is how God sees you today. Not as a project to fix or a problem to solve. Not as a collection of mistakes or a list of achievements. He sees your heart. He knows the weight you’ve been carrying that no one else notices. He understands the loneliness that creeps in even when you’re surrounded by people. He sees the parts of yourself you’ve learned to hide because the world told you they weren’t acceptable. And in His seeing, you are loved. You are valued. You are enough.
But here’s where this truth becomes even more beautiful and more challenging. We who have been seen by God are called to see others the same way. In Matthew 22:39, Jesus tells us to love our neighbors as ourselves. This kind of love requires more than recognition. It requires the willingness to slow down, to pay attention, to look beyond the surface.
Every person you encounter today is carrying a story. The barista who seems distracted might be grieving a loss. The coworker who snapped at you might be drowning in anxiety. The neighbor who never makes eye contact might be struggling with shame. We live in a world full of people who feel unseen, and we have been given the extraordinary privilege of reflecting God’s heart by truly seeing them.
This doesn’t mean we need to know everyone’s deepest secrets or solve everyone’s problems. Sometimes seeing someone simply means making eye contact and offering a genuine smile. It means asking “How are you?” and actually waiting for the answer. It means noticing when someone seems off and taking a moment to check in. It means listening, really listening, to the stories people tell and the emotions they express. It means recognizing that the person in front of you is not just a means to an end but a beloved child of God, worthy of dignity and attention.
When we choose to see people this way, something shifts. Our interactions move from transactional to transformational. We stop treating people as background characters in our story and start recognizing them as the main characters in their own. We reflect the heart of El Roi, the God who sees, and in doing so, we offer people a glimpse of how deeply they are loved by Him.
Today, you are completely seen by the God who created you. He knows your name, your story, your struggles, and your strengths. He sees the parts of you that you show the world and the parts you keep hidden. And in His perfect seeing, you are fully loved. Let that truth settle into the deepest parts of your soul. You are not invisible. You are not forgotten. You are seen.
And because you are seen, you can see others. You can slow down in a world that rushes past. You can listen in a culture that talks over you and not to you. You can look beyond appearances and status and defenses to recognize the image of God in every person you meet. You can be the answer to someone’s unspoken prayer to be noticed, to matter, to be seen.
Hear Me When I Pray
Dear God,
Thank You for being El Roi, the One who sees me. Thank You for knowing my heart, my story, my pain, and my joy. Thank You for seeing me completely and loving me anyway. Help me to see others the way You see them. Give me eyes that look beyond the surface. Give me a heart that slows down and pays attention. Give me the courage to truly connect with the people You place in my path. Let me be a reflection of Your love, reminding everyone I meet that they are seen, they are known, and they are deeply valued.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Today, go forward knowing you are seen. And in that confidence, choose to see others. You have no idea how much it might mean to someone who’s been feeling invisible. You might just be the glimpse of El Roi that changes everything for them.