What comes to mind when you think of El Roi – “the God who sees”? To be honest, for most of the time that I’ve known this name of God, I would immediately have thoughts of Big Brother — a show I’ve never seen but understand the premise of. I would hear El Roi and think of God watching every little thing I do and documenting it all, but mostly looking for the things I did wrong so it could be blown up and broadcast for everyone to see. In case you’re wondering, that’s not the right view and it’s certainly not healthy! It’s been recently that God has refreshed my view of this name of His and I’m excited to share it!
I’m not a parent. That’s my disclaimer for the illustration I’m about to lay out. I do know many sets of parents and have interacted with many parents and their kids along the way…so hopefully this won’t be too off. But even if it is, this is the picture God has been speaking into my soul.
Now, when I hear El Roi, my mind goes to a park with lush grass, an extravagant playground with all the COOLEST slides and obstacles! I picture a park bench under a shady maple tree. And I imagine a refreshing breeze to compliment the warmth of a summer sun. A parent and a child approach the playground excitedly, mere moments away from uncovering the afternoon adventures to be had there.
Once there, they start playing. Racing down the slides to escape flying dragons. Hopping across small platforms to avoid bubbling hot lava below. Swinging high into the sky on a mission to an unreached planet made out of candy! They adventure together in sweet presence, cheering each other on mission by mission.
Eventually, another child joins their time and the parent spots the park bench and decides to take a seat. They sit, not out of neglect of their child, but to enjoy watching the child enjoy the company of a peer. The child is still contentedly playing and keeping the parent up to date on every twist and turn of the adventure. The parent doesn’t feel neglected or unwanted and is not tempted to be absent or even distracted for even a moment. Rather the parent is still very present and is now watching with joy and amazement as the child’s limits of imagination are broadened by the influence of a friend to go further than ever before with even crazier missions. The parent is a captive audience to a child’s imaginative stage.
But then tragedy. A fall from the monkey bars. A scraped knee from the ground surface. Tears well up. Cries start to vocalize. The child looks up. The park bench is empty. Doubt….
…but only for a moment as in a single motion the strength of two arms wraps and lifts the child into the air and into a comforting embrace. The parent saw the hurt about to ensue and without having to be called for, was present to help heal. After cleaning out the scrape and checking for other bumps and bruises, some more time of gentle closeness is shared. Before you know it, parent and child are back to playing again, on one final mission before the day is done.
Upon success of the mission, the child and parent embrace as if they’ve saved the whole world from total annihilation. They return to the path toward home, hand in hand, with smiles that radiate pure love and satisfaction.
There’s no need to really go back and show the full parallels of this. The child is me. The other child represents those who come into life for seasons to help us pursue a deeper adventure with God. The parent is my new view of El Roi. He’s the God who sees me. He sees me and enjoys me. He watches me as a captive audience with joy as I pursue His awesome adventure for my life. And yes, He sees me when I fall — be it from my own sin or the sinfulness of this world, but He meets me with compassion. He lifts me and comforts me and helps me heal. He stays with me….always present because He is fascinated with me.
Biblically this name for God came out of the life of Hagar — the maidservant of Sarai and the mother of Ishmael and a victim of unjust treatment. She was in a desert, completely hopeless and basically staring at death when she came to understand God as El Roi. In her hopelessness He delivered her life and even established a promise with her. He met her with compassion, purpose, and direction.
At times in my life I’ve felt invisible. I think we all probably have at some point (but if you haven’t, that’s totes ok). Sometimes I feel like people don’t actually see the cool stuff God is doing in my sphere and I want them to! Sometimes my invisibility feels like I’m trying to scream underwater. I want to share but I don’t know how or I doubt that people care or that they will take the time to actually listen and love in return. I can’t change how people respond. Period.
So where’s the hope and comfort?
El Roi sees me. What a beautiful comfort it has been to learn that He sees me — cheering me on, helping me accomplish things for His kingdom! He sees me — broken-hearted and meets me to catch my tears and He starts to heal my soul. And at the end of the day, whether it was filled with cheering, consoling, or both, He takes my hand with a smile on His face. That’s where I find satisfaction.
The Unwithered Leaf 