Written By the God Who Sees

Dear Little One, 

You’re seen. Behind the instantaneous smile, the immediate laughter and the flamboyant charm, I see you. I recognize your desire to hide, even when you stand in front of the mirror and challenge Me to prove your value. I hear the brokenness in the laughter, I feel the tears behind the smile. 

You don’t think you can tell Me you’re hurting because you’re so accustomed to playing a part in healing someone else. Stop. I’m not broken. I’m not in need of you. You need Me. Let yourself be broken and hurt in My presence. As your Creator, I can only heal what you show Me. Your cracked heart merely hurts My heart, it doesn’t overwhelm, anger, or turn Me away. But you do have to give it to Me. 

Please? 

I see you when no one does. I hear you cry when everyone else only hears you laugh. I feel your fear when everyone else only sees your confident leadership. You’re not confident, are you? You believe in My power for everyone but yourself, don’t you? 

Why? 

Do you understand that your purpose, value, and reason was found the moment you were conceived? Do you understand that when I breathed life into your lungs, I not only gave you purpose, I gave you My purpose, My joy, My love? Because of Me, your pain isn’t weakness, it’s strength. Because of Me, your identity isn’t found in your mistakes.

You are found in Me.

I haven’t call you to lead alone. I called you to be Mine. Hold on to the fact that you’re Mine. When you feel invisible, you’re Mine. When you feel alone, you’re still Mine; besides, you’ve never been alone a millisecond of your existence. 

You tell people you love the fact you’ve learned I am Elroi, the God Who Sees. But Child, why haven’t you let that Truth sink in when you’ve needed it most? 

I love you. I’m here. You are not invisible to Me. 

Your One and Only Elroi

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Put It Away, Kid

I had two little boys between the ages of four and six live with me for right around a year. I am not, by any means, anything now but an amateur idealist when it comes to being a good mom after that experience. A year of playing their referee, jungle gym, nurse, teacher and caretaker (caretaker came first… usually… I think) taught me a lot and yet taught me nothing. 

One thing I learned was giving them broad instructions didn’t work. I learned to say things like, “Boys, by the time Auntie comes in there your socks & underwear, shirts, pants, shorts, shoes, dinosaurs, etch-a-sketches, paint brushes, 8-balls, tools and books better be on the shelves where they belong.” 

As their forced angelic voices wafted down the hall, “O’taaaaaay, Auntie Tassie, we do dat,” I flew through a mental catalogue of everything they had. Inevitably, they’d come tromping into my kitchen with a toy and the innocent question, “What we do wit’ dis one, Auntie? You didn’ say anytin’ about dis one.”

I spent an entire year trying to learn the right amount of patience, enjoyment, and training to teach those boys life skills. I wasn’t very good at it, but somehow their grins and inquiries usually made me want to hug them rather than scold them. That was my momentary taste of parenthood.

Fast forward to today. I’m no longer an “auntie” to two rambunctious boys and I no longer micro-manage my household just to keep it standing one more day. I am, however, finding that at 27 years old, there are days, weeks and months where I identify deeply with those two boys. 

I understand all too well what it’s like to not quite get life just yet and being in need of a God to help me through ridiculous, clarifying questions. He patiently reinforces His command to “trust and obey” really does mean with every corner of my heart over and over again.

But still, I have to ask, “Yes, so God, you said trust You with my future, but what about my future in regards to…? What if this crazy situation happens and I’m left with a broken heart? What then? Do I have to trust you then, too?” 

My whimsically imaginative heart can almost picture God chuckling, kneeling down and whispering, “Kiddo, put your worry where it belongs.” Somehow, His enjoyment & patience in seeing me work out my salvation never ends & He’s never too annoyed to give me the same assurances He’s given me my entire life. 

This is the grace the teaches me to love even when I can’t get my mind around how it gives my life purpose. 

I Can’t Pray For You

I have one real enemy in my life. It’s so deep that those who love me best protect me from the mere memory of this person. We use phrases like, “You know who I mean,” or “You know, past experiences.” Even using a name just feels wrong. There’s fear there for everyone because they know the chaos this person can create without much effort.

But then, there’s silence and there’s Jesus. A trusted friend asked me recently if (why) I still loved this person when there were so many aching scars remaining. It’s not easy. Despite the reality that I no longer perfectly remember a menacing voice or mannerisms, there are still the rare nights I’ll wake up in cold sweats because… Well, you get the picture. I have peace, but I still struggle with saying I love my enemy.

Loving an enemy is a choice. It’s a blood-curdling scary one. But there’s Jesus.

Praying for this person used to be a flippant, “Yeah, whatever, Lord. Just… Do something. Amen.” There was no intercession, there were no heartwrenching requests that the Spirit move mountains to get through to a stone cold heart. Jesus commanded me to pray, so I did. But I didn’t do it well.

I had to come to grips with fear, confusion, and love in regards to the punk of my life because I saw what those loose ends did to the people in my life. Fear became pity. Pity became worry. Worry became a very guarded, thin and frustrated love. Love remains obedience. 

When the Bible commands us to, “love our enemies,” don’t ever think that means joyfully mingling your life with theirs. Don’t ever believe it means putting yourself in danger. Please, with all of my heart, I beg you to never allow those memories influence the rest of your life. 

However, do yourself a favor and remember that loving an enemy is a process. Whatever caused the schism in that relationship is something to be pitied. If you believe that Jesus Christ saved you from your sins, rose again on the third day and is the only way to Heaven, you have more power on your side than your enemy could ever have on theirs. The Bible speaks truth saying, “No weapon formed against us shall prosper (Isaiah 54:17).” 

The reality is, no matter how deep the wounds go, Christ is the answer. He might not feel like the answer, but pray anyway. Watch the bitterness morph into pity and the pity turn into a Spirit-deep desire for your enemy to experience the same love of the Father you have experienced. 

Watch God win. 

But then, Elroi

Elroi. The God Who Sees. I fell in love with this name of Yahweh a long time ago. He was given this name by Hagar, the outcast hand-maiden of Abraham (Genesis 16). Abraham didn’t want her, nor the son she had birthed for him. She felt worthless, unwanted, inhumane, helpless and completely unseen. But then, Yahweh.

He saw her. He loved her. He, when no one else would, provided for her. Elroi. The God Who Sees.

I’ve felt all those same emotions of Hagar’s before. I’ve felt all those things for a seemingly-permanent, torturously-long time. But then, there was Yahweh-Elroi. The God Who Sees. The God who sees and is willing to be spoken to by a seemingly worthless, unwanted woman. The God who sees worth when no one else does. 

Elroi. 

For the past three years, I’ve had to brokenly rewrite my definition of a woman’s worth. It’s been a beautiful journey with buckets of tears and hours of laughter. Every time I’ve gone back to the feet of Jesus and reminded Him of how hard it is to deeply feel unseen and unloved to the point of madness, He says one thing:

I am the God Who Sees. I am Your Elroi. Am I not enough? 

I’ve had to learn in the past year that that fear of being unwanted and unloved does not go away when you are, in fact, wanted and loved. Every time I push a button, get a little too human and can’t seem to feel perfect (grin), I fall back into the tortures of my life before Christ. My value is unseen because it’s not there. No one sees the good in me because there is none. 

But then, Yahweh. My Elroi. 

He sees what no one else sees. He provides what no one else provides. When all else fails, He asks one of thing of me and one thing of all of us: 

Today, choose Elroi. Today be fulfilled in the God who sees. When you feel unseen, fall back on the unchanging, unmoving beauty of Elroi. He sees you, and that is enough. It’s more than enough.