Do you remember your first crush?
You liked them soooooo much, yet it remained to be seen if you were actually “seen.”
That’s a difficult space to live in.
Waiting to be seen.
Not just waiting to be physically noticed or seen in passing. But truly seen – valued for who you are. Not for what you can do or what others expect. Valued for being you.
It’s a familiar story in pop culture, as well. Think about the Netflix show Bridgerton.
In the lavish balls and carefully orchestrated social scenes, the young women of the town are paraded in front of potential suitors. Their futures depend entirely on “being seen” by the right person—someone who will not only notice them but choose them. The waiting is excruciating. It’s not about love at all; it’s about identity and worth.
And for many of them, the pressure is overwhelming. If you aren’t seen—or worse, if you’re seen and rejected—it feels like a failure, a verdict on your value.
Waiting to be seen is not just about courtship in a Regency-era drama.
It’s a universal experience.
It’s the misfit toys, sitting on their island, hoping that one day someone will look past what the world has labeled as “flaws” and see their worth.
It’s us, longing to be noticed, valued, and chosen for who we truly are.
The Advent season is a season of waiting on the one who came and showed us what it menas to truly be seen AND to truly see. A Messiah who rescued humanity from darkness and ushered us into Light. It is a reminder of God’s presence breaking into the world through Jesus, and changing the rules about what it meant to see and be seen.
Scripture gives us multiple powerful stories of seeing and being seen.
Take the story of Hagar . . .
Hagar was an Egyptian servant to Sarai (later Sarah), Abram’s (later Abraham’s) wife. When Sarai could not conceive a child, she made a decision common in her time: she gave Hagar to Abram as a concubine, hoping to build a family through her. Hagar had little to no agency in this decision. She was a victim of a cultural system that commodified women and treated servants as property.
When Hagar became pregnant, the dynamics shifted. She began to see herself differently—perhaps with newfound significance or pride as the mother of Abram’s child. Sarai, however, felt threatened and grew bitter. Tensions rose, and Sarai treated Hagar harshly, so much so that Hagar fled into the wilderness.
Alone, pregnant, and desperate, Hagar found herself in the wilderness by a spring of water. It was here that the angel of the Lord appeared to her. In this divine encounter, Hagar was not chastised for running away but instead reassured and given a promise for her future. The angel told her to return to Sarai and Abram, but with this promise:
“I will increase your descendants so much that they will be too numerous to count.” —Genesis 16:10
Hagar was also told that her son would be named Ishmael, meaning “God hears,” for God had heard her misery. Ishmael would grow to be a strong and independent man, though he would live in conflict with others. Despite the difficulties she faced, this promise gave Hagar hope and a future.
Overwhelmed by this encounter, Hagar gave God a name: El Roi, meaning “The God who sees me.” She exclaimed, “You are the God who sees me, for I have now seen the One who sees me” (Genesis 16:13). In a world where she was invisible—treated as property, used, and cast aside—Hagar was seen by the Creator of the universe.
God has a habit of seeing those the world overlooks.
That was manifested through the tiny baby born in the most obscure, unseen way.
Jesus.
God has a habit of seeing those the world overlooks.
The misfit toys weren’t forgotten on their island. In the end, they were given a home, their uniqueness valued. Their flaws didn’t disqualify them—they simply needed someone to see them differently.
And that’s what Jesus does for us.
Born in the most obscure, unseen way, Jesus broke into the world not in power but in humility. He came to see us and to show us that we are seen—not for what we lack but for who we are.
The Advent story is the story of El Roi, the God who sees.
Where do you feel like a misfit in your life right now? Where are you waiting to be noticed or chosen?
Advent reminds us that we don’t have to wait to be seen by God. He sees us fully, loves us deeply, and calls us His own.
This season, as we light the candles and wait for the celebration of Christ’s birth, may we rest in the promise that we are already seen and already enough in God’s eyes.
“You are the God who sees me.” —Genesis 16:13
Prayer:
God who sees us,
Thank You for looking past our flaws and into the heart of who we are. In a world that often overlooks and judges, remind us that we are fully known and deeply loved by You. Help us rest in the truth of Your presence and teach us to see others with the same love and grace You extend to us.
Amen.