In times of heartache, I often return to stories from Scripture for sources of comfort. Perhaps surprisingly, my first choice oftentimes does not lead me to a story of Jesus. A regular favorite of mine is that of Hagar:
As a result of Abraham and Sarah not believing God's promise and thereby following God's plan, Hagar, Sarah's personal slave, is sexually used in order to produce Abraham a child. It was not like she had a choice in the matter - no more than she had any say in her body actually becoming pregnant. While I cannot condone Hagar's contempt towards Sarah for being barren, I do not see her poor behavior as justification for the resulting abusive nature with which Sarah treats Hagar (as if there is ever "justification" for abuse). As those of us who grew up in the Church hearing the story know, Sarah's abuse towards Hagar was so bad that Hagar chose to run away into the desert wilderness (surely not a place of survival) rather than remain within the "safety" that Abraham and Sarah's community represented. In case any clarification is needed, Hagar is still pregnant at this point in the story. So, in other words, a pregnant (vulnerable) woman chose running away into the wilderness as preferable to staying with other people who might otherwise protect her. (...Safety in numbers, right?) That's how bad this was.
However, "The angel of the
Lord found [Hagar] by a spring of water in the wilderness, the spring on the way to Shur." (
Gen 16:7, ESV) His resulting words of command, encouragement, and promise gave her the courage and strength to return home, bear the child, and the rest (as we say) is history (although a very messy one at that). (I also doubt that when God
promised that her son would be the father of a great nation that she anticipated the [painful] way in which that would come about...but we seldom anticipate the curve-balls that are thrown as a result of living in this fallen, broken world.)
That's all back-story. Now, here's my favorite part - the part I go back to again and again. Hagar, who has basically been otherwise shat upon by life, (pardon my French) marvels about her interaction with God:
So she called the name of the
Lord who spoke to her, “
You are a God of seeing,”for she said, “
Truly here I have seen him who looks after me.” (Gen. 16:13, ESV)
In meeting with Hagar, God acknowledged Hagar's pain
which she had done NOTHING to deserve and in no way had "earned,
" showed her that He loved her, and also blessed her. He let her know that she (who otherwise did not matter according to society) was
seen - that she (and her pain) were not invisible or ignored before Him. And there is such a great mercy in knowing that we are seen and cared for by the Creator of the universe. Hagar's understanding of God - her very name for Him - was shaped by the knowledge that He saw her and watched over her and understood her plight.
I got curious about differing translations of the Genesis 16:13 and decided to look them up in a quick
search engine-type-thing:
Thereafter, Hagar used another name to refer to the LORD, who had spoken
to her. She said, "
You are the God who sees me." She also said, "
Have I
truly seen the One who sees me?" (NLV)
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." (NIV)
Then she called the name of the LORD who spoke to her, "
You are a God
who sees"; for she said, "
Have I even remained alive here after seeing
Him?" (NASB)
Some of the translations present some her incredulously questioning if she
truly just saw God. Others depict her stating (with what I imagine to be amazement and wonder) that she saw God. Throughout the statements and questions, there is a variance in how she perceived Him (or in how the interpreters of the text perceived her interaction). And I love the variance because I think it points to our range of responses when we see or hear God in our lives. (And sometimes this mix of responses elicits forth from the same person, from the same interaction...all within a few moments/hours/days following the interaction with God.)
I love that God sees me in my pain - that it isn't just something that He glosses over. I figure that if Hagar can have a response of peace, then so can I.
I also love the various translations because each brings out something about the mysterious, wonderful, life-giving, tender power that accompanies the times when God's fingerprints are so clearly left in the workings of our lives.
So, thank you, God, for meeting me in the wilderness - for seeing me in my pain, and for sending your "angels" to let me know that I'm not alone.
