I wonder how many of us don’t see the Lord because our eyes are closed. This is a question that came to mind as I read the second part of Hagar’s story. My prayer is that our hearts would be open to receive the fullness of Christ, and that we would begin to live fully awake.

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Open Your Eyes

There’s a church along a winding back road in my hometown that we’d frequently pass on our way in and out of town. Often, they’d have one of those signs up where they’d put little notes and messages about God for those who raced past their entrance in hopes of sharing a little bit of eternal hope and joy with the occasional passersby. Many felt pretty cheesy to me, but one day, one of those phrases stopped me in my tracks. Your wit’s end is where you’ll find God. These words still dawn on me years later.

When I was younger, I took a lot of pride in my independence. I always figured things out on my own, refrained from asking for help, and often found myself successful in my endeavors. In a culture founded on personal freedom and meritocracy, pulling yourself up by your bootstraps, it’s unsurprising that this is how I have learned to navigate through this world. Like somehow, you’re better off if you don’t need anything from anyone.

For many years, my achievements and my I-can-do-it-on-my-own and I-don’t-need-any-helps got me places. But as I got older, I started to realize how not-figured-out things were. How overwhelming it was to navigate it all. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was tired of doing things on my own. This is where I began to learn that reaching the end of our own will, our own strength, our own “self-sufficiency”, helps us see God’s great invitation to rely on Him. And it’s inevitable that at some point in our lives, we reach the end of ourselves. This doesn’t have to be a desperate moment, but it is something that encourages us to fix our gaze upward. While our wit’s end wanderings catalyze these revelations of dependence, living in such a way that shouts I can’t do this on my own I need you God is a way we can live every single day.

My eagerness to accept this invitation depends on the day, and on the season, but that doesn’t make it any less miraculous that God would welcome us into that kind of dependence when half the time we try to do everything in our own strength anyway. And yet, He does. He’s eager for us to see how badly we need Him. He’s waiting for us to see Him as He fixes His gaze upon us. He wants to show us who He is. His goodness. His compassion. His mercy. He wants to reveal to us the fullness of His love.

Taste and see that the Lord is good. Blessed are those who take refuge in him.

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Dependence

Relinquishing control through surrender and positioning ourselves in a way that demands dependence is uncomfortable. Some learn this desperate reliance willingly. Others learn through necessity and trial, despite our naive attempts to resist it. Nonetheless, it’s one of the greatest gifts from God – getting to depend on Him. Why? He is the one who holds it all in the palm of His hand. He is sovereign, everlasting, and holy. This makes him a steady foundation. In James, it says, Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.

I wonder what our lives would look like, the boldness and courage we would walk in, if we recognized it was a blessing (not a curse) to depend on God.

To be seen by Him.

To be known by Him.

To be loved by Him.

To recognize His presence that goes before us.

That hems us in from behind.

In the morning’s new mercies, and in the dead of night, we are encouraged to turn our eyes upon Jesus. This is a gift. Because Jesus took our place on a sinner’s cross, we get to know God. We get to have Him in our corner. We get to be in divine communion with the King of Kings, the Holiest of Holies. This is a gift, and one I find myself taking for granted.

We are invited to need God, rely on Him, and to trust Him. We are invited to loosen our grip as we face the unknown, instead allowing it to draw us deeper into God’s holy presence. We, too, are invited to leave the problem solving, number-crunching, solution-finding, let-me-just-escape-this ways behind and surrender to a God who works all things together for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.

Something I’ve seen in myself, and have heard in others, is a fear of relying on Jesus. Though he is the pioneer and perfecter of faith, the prince of peace, cosuffering servant, our wounded healer, dependence on Him seems exposing and vulnerable. What if He lets me down too? What if He changes His mind about me? How could someone know everything about me, everything I’ve done, and still love me? Our ability to grasp this truth doesn’t make it any less true. Who God is is not contingent upon what we believe about Him. What do you believe about Him?

Over the years, I have found it difficult to reconcile prayers not yet answered and heartbreaks not yet healed. We pray for miracles, breakthroughs, deliverance, healing, and restoration, and don’t quite know what to do with them when He doesn’t respond how we had hoped. These are the things that can make us wonder, is God good?

Have you ever asked yourself that? Or someone else? Has your unbelief been hinged on the lie that He isn’t good?

I always come back to these questions because wrapped up in knowing who God is, is also knowing who He isn’t. And often, these questions we ask sow seeds of doubt and make God into someone He isn’t. Fear, doubt, and this-is-too-good-to-be-trues mold Him and warp Him into someone who isn’t loving, kind, merciful, gentle, just, and sovereign. But God is still God whether we believe Him, understand Him, or seek Him, and He will remain the same until the end of time. He will remain good, loving, merciful, compassionate, and just. He will maintain His titles as Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace, Comforter, Deliverer, and Healer. He does hope you’ll see Him for who He is: someone you can depend on. Someone who does not seek to harm you, but to prosper you. Someone who desires to know you and be known by you.

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In The Middle

What makes it hard to rely on God? What holds us back? Why do we refrain from relinquishing control and falling on our knees at Jesus’ feet, realizing he is the only place we can find true comfort, peace, and mercy in our time of need?

We get stuck somewhere in the middle of a story. Someone breaks our trust. We don’t get the job we prayed for. Life milestones don’t happen on the timeline we hoped for. We get discouraged because we make sense of our circumstance with earthly wisdom, not eternal perspective. We see what we are lacking, use it as evidence against the possibility that God really is good and loving and kind, and think that’s the end of the story. We close the book before we’ve even finished reading the chapter. But God isn’t done yet.

Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about how discouraging the space between can be. The already-not-yet and the fight to keep the hope and assurance up amidst the things unseen. Maybe because that’s the season I’m in now. How do we continue to trust God when we can’t yet see the fruit of His promise? How do we hold onto our little faith when the going gets rough?

We keep reading. We allow God the final say.

This is where we really learn how much we need Him, and how safe His arms are to fall into. When we’re vulnerable, were able to see God is the One we’ve been looking for. He is the one we need.

Here again, I am reminded of Hagar because there is still more to her story; we would miss the miracle if we didn’t keep going. In Genesis 21, the story circles back to Hagar after God tells Abraham to pack a bag for her and her son, Ishmael. A year after Abraham and Sarah bear their first son, Isaac, God sees it time for Hagar and Ishmael to carry on their legacy somewhere else. After God’s angel tells Hagar to return from where she came, He tells Abraham to kick her out shortly thereafter. Why would He do that?

I imagine some reading that story thinking, How could I possibly believe in the goodness of the Lord when He let that happen? He’s not good.

Acknowledge the tension, the discomfort, the questions. And keep reading.

Can you picture it? The confusion. The hurt. The doubt. The hardness of heart. The bitterness. The feelings of betrayal. I imagine Hagar thinking, God, aren’t you the one who sees me? How could you do this? How could you let this happen?

Because she had no other choice, Hagar wandered back into the desert with her son and a small water skin in tow. As Hagar’s journey wound along the path once more, I imagine fear, mistrust, and frustration boiling up within her. Step by step, I imagine her hopelessness increase as her water grew scarce. I imagine tears flooding her eyes, soaking her flush cheeks, as she looks down at her son.

Scripture says, When the water in the skin was gone, she put the boy under one of the bushes. Then she went off and sat down about a bowshot away, for she thought, “I cannot watch the boy die.” And as she sat there, she began to sob (Genesis 21:15-16).

Consider it for a moment: the child you bore did not become a son or daughter who would inherit the kingdom, but instead was a child born according to the flesh; your child’s prophetic fate was one of rebellion and conflict, instead of God’s blessing, and there was seemingly nothing you could do to stop it.

What if this was your inheritance? What if this was your legacy? What if you were the one God told Abraham to pack a bag for?

I imagine I’d feel forsaken, forgotten, and a little (a lot) helpless. I might wonder if God cared about me at all. God isn’t afraid of our honesty, nor does He diminish our frustration and fear, but He does desire for us to believe what’s true about Him. He does hope that we would come to believe that He and His plans are good.

God directed Hagar away from the house of Abraham. Surely, He had gone before her. Surely, this couldn’t be the end of the story (it wasn’t). So it is for you and me.

Doors close. Relationships end when we thought they’d last. Someone who said they loved you wronged you. Divorce, illness, addiction, anxiety, and unanswered prayers are a part of many of our stories. Surely, our moments of fear, frustration, and weariness are not the end of the story. Just the middle. God’s not done.

From the Heavens, God hears Hagar and her son as they cry.

And the angel of God called to Hagar from heaven and said to her, “What is the matter, Hagar? Do not be afraid; God has heard the boy crying as he lies there. Lift the boy up and take him by the hand, for I will make him into a great nation.” Then God opened her eyes and she saw a well of water. So she went and filled the skin with water and gave the boy a drink. God was with the boy as he grew up (Genesis 21:17-18)

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We are Forgetful, but God is Faithful

Hagar was not forsaken, nor forgotten. God still saw her, knew precisely what she needed, and was prepared to provide for His weary daughter in a multitude of ways.

Why?

God stays true to His promise. He does not forget what He has spoken, and He certainly doesn’t forget about His children. If we were to stop reading at verse 16, if we were to throw the towel in and allow lies to take root in our hearts that put God’s character and heart into question, we’d miss the miracle that happened next. If we closed our bibles mid-story, we’d leave without the revelation of God’s heart. If we fought to keep our eyes closed when God sought to open them, we wouldn’t see the blessings and the miracles abundant. Heaven is all around us.

In How to Pray, Pete Greig writes that God is lovingly attentive to (our) needs, always pleased to see (us), predisposed to answer the cries of (our) heart. To be predisposed is to be inclined toward a specific attitude or action. God’s most common response to us is mercy. In Exodus 34, as God passes over Moses, exclaiming who He is, the first thing He says after He calls Himself Lord is that He is merciful.

God is merciful. He is compassionate. He hears the cries of His children, and while He does not always respond in the exact way we might hope, He comes bearing love. We are not led into the wilderness for our hope to die, but for our dependence on Him to increase.

Note: It is important to acknowledge the complexity of suffering. I do believe there are many theologies that seek to honor God in making sense of why bad things happen, but I’m not sure if on this side of heaven, we’ll ever know the answer for certain. What I do know is this: Jesus endured much suffering on the cross, and told us that in this world, there would be trouble. Did He give you cancer? Was it His will for someone you love to die unexpectedly? Did His will actually lead to your suffering? Well, I just don’t know about that. He is the Author of Life. I don’t believe God delights in our suffering, but He can use it for His glory. Just a thought…

In Genesis 21, we see how God responds to our desperation.

First, He hears our cries.

Then, He reminds us of His promise.

Next, He invites us to remember Him. To look up.

Finally, He shows us who He is by tending to our needs, whether they be emotional, spiritual, physical, or mental (sometimes it’s multiple, like we see with Hagar).

When our circumstances are less than ideal, when they’re heartbreaking, discouraging, or frustrating, it becomes so easy to doubt. It can feel like the easier thing to conclude that God is a liar than to face the possibility that He is still good when our hearts are breaking, our bodies are failing, and our minds feel like the enemy. Of this we can be certain: He is not a liar. His heart beats for us, and it breaks for us too. God hears us when we cry, and is eager to restore our hope in Him. Faith that lasts flows from a heart that knows pain. Brokenness isn’t meant to separate us, but draw our gaze upward. Brokenness points us toward the amazing grace God has given us through his son, Jesus. It’s not meant to divide and be the reason we avoid his gaze, but a moment that seeks to draw us back to the presence of our Father. Nothing can separate us from the love of our God. He uses the middle of the story for His glory. God’s not done.

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Eyes Closed

Something that stood out to me as I was reading this passage again was how Hagar’s eyes were closed while the angel of the Lord spoke to her. It struck me because of the name she gave God the first time: Jehovah El Roi, the God who sees. The first time, she said, I have seen the one who sees me. Her eyes and heart were open to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord, to receive His blessing and comfort. But the second time, scripture says her eyes were closed.

This can’t be a random detail; it’s showing us something. Perhaps Hagar’s despair blinded her from seeing the God who saw her.

Scripture says God opened her eyes*. He wasn’t done.* If God hadn’t done that, she would’ve missed her miracle. God couldn’t risk that, so He entered in. God has plans to prosper us, not to harm us. To give us a hope and a future.

In this story, we see God’s heart on display. He knew Hagar’s hope needed to be restored; He also knew she needed water to survive. God knows what we need before we even ask. He knows what we need before we do.

Hagar’s story reminds me that God truly is with us every step we take. He is faithful to the promise of His presence.

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Open Your Eyes

I wonder how many of us don’t see the Lord because our eyes are closed.

I wonder how many times the Lord has gently asked us to open them, but fear, doubt and unbelief obscured our vision. Have we missed the miracle?

What if the answer to our prayer is right in front of us, but we’re so focused on our lack and the ways God isn’t showing up, or didn’t show up, that we’ve lost sight of what He’s trying to do now? What if we’re stuck in the past when God is trying to do a new thing? to take you to a new height or new depth? God doesn’t put new wine into an old wine skin.

The promise of Jehovah El Roi, Emmanuel God With Us, isn’t conditional, withheld when we rebel or fall short. It’s steadfast and sure. God’s love is steady, and His foundation is firm.

He sees us. He is with us.

In John 16:33, Jesus tells us to take heart; for I have overcome the world. But right before that, he says in this world there will be trouble. It’s not an if; it’s a guarantee. We will experience heartache. We will experience despair. We will waver and doubt. We will fear. We will find ourselves in wilderness seasons that, if we’re willing, will teach us how to depend on Christ alone. His promise is that He will be with us through it all. He is an ever present help in our time of need.

Where we once may have thought God was kicking Hagar to the curb by asking Abraham to pack a bag for her, we come to realize that all along, there was a greater plan for Hagar and Ishmael too. God didn’t lead Hagar away from the house of Abraham and Sarah without knowing how He would provide for her. He wanted to do a new thing. He wanted to orchestrate a miracle right before her eyes to show her what it means to be the One who sees. The same is true for you and me.

All along, God was preparing a way. He was planning a miracle that was for them. Ishmael wouldn’t receive the inheritance of his brother, but God did promise He would be with Him as He grew up.

We don’t always get to decide what kind of trouble we’ll face in this world, but we do get to decide whether we’ll have a friend in the fire. We do get to decide whether we’ll rely on our own strength or on God’s. We do have a say in whether we give God the final say.

Depending on someone else feels scary, but God cannot be held to any earthly standard. He is trustworthy because He has always been true to His word. It’s in His very nature to be reliable.

So, would you open your eyes? Would you allow God to keep writing your story? He’s not done. Release your grip, and allow the Author of Life to do what He does best. Fix your gaze upward, because God is dependable. He is trustworthy. He is sovereign.

Open your eyes. Let Him do a new thing. Be expectant of His miracles and His provision. He is with you.