"Hello, Pittsburgh!" The words rang out as if from a celebrity on a concert tour, and a smile broke across my face. A few months before, I’d moved to a bustling town in England where I occasionally shopped at a little specialty deli. The proprietor was a gregarious fellow who, during my first visit, recognized an American accent and asked what city I was from. Ever after, whenever I walked into the shop he would call out, “Hello, Pittsburgh!” I was not just an anonymous customer; I was known.
Later I moved to a different country, where I was notable for being the only Black person in my small village. I had to have been recognized there, but no one asked my name or where I was from or even acknowledged me as an individual. I was visible but unknown.
Genesis gives us very little information about Hagar. The one thing we know for certain is that she had no power over her own life. As far as her owners were concerned, she was just an available womb. She, too, was visible but unknown.
Yet Hagar was the first person recorded in the Bible to give God a name when she called Him “the God who sees me.” Hagar was also unique in that God called her, by name, not once, but twice: first, when she was pregnant with Ishmael and fleeing from Sarah’s abuse (Genesis 16:6b-13) then, twelve years later, when Sarah insisted that Abraham get rid of Hagar and Ishmael. (Genesis 21:14-19)
Both times, Hagar faced rejection from those around her. Both times, God called her to set her eyes not on her circumstances, but on Him—the One who knew her. God saw Hagar’s situation, knew her heart, and gave her hope.
As women on the field, sometimes we feel invisible, anonymous. Our ministries can feel second-class. Sometimes we are treated only as appendages to our husbands. Sometimes our team leaders don’t seem to see or hear us. But God sees us. He sees us, knows us intimately, and loves us with a divine passion.
Thinking of times in your ministry when you’ve felt anonymous, how has God shown that He knows you?
On the field, I lived in a very insular village. If I said hello, people would respond, but beyond that, it was as if I was invisible. Because I’m pretty introverted, it’s hard for me to initiate relationships. So God sent me a new neighbor. She was also a “foreigner” in that she was from a village an hour away. (Yeah, that’s how insular it was.) God knew I needed someone who wouldn’t just nod politely when I waved or said hello but would respond as if she wanted to engage with me. That was Elisa. I waved as she was driving by, and she stopped the car and introduced herself. We became fast friends.