El Roi

It’s so easy to feel like no one sees you. The extra things you do at work that you didn’t have to. The way you cleaned up the laundry at home or the pile of dishes. That person who cuts you off on the road while you’re driving. When you scroll through social media and see people taking that trip, getting that promotion, or having that kid.

It’s not like you’re invisible. People see in you in those places. But there is a difference between being visible and feeling seen. It’s like the difference between a piece of strawberry candy and a ripe strawberry. They’re the same flavor, but they’re not really the same taste at all.

There was a season in my life when I was struggling. Getting out of bed felt like a chore itself and I only did so out of a sense of responsibility. If I hadn't had others counting on me I would've just laid there all day.

But the beauty of God is that he always sees you. He doesn’t check out or lose interest. 

If you’re familiar with the concept of the five love languages, mine is words of affirmation. And for me, it has to be written or verbalized in a way that feels genuine. A card given to me ‘just because’ with a note means more than a birthday card done out of obligation.

One of the areas where it's perhaps hardest to come by this naturally is in my professional life as a manager. Over the years, I’ve been so blessed to have some fantastic employees on my team. And they’ve been kind enough to give me positive feedback when it wasn’t asked for.

But the truth is, even if you’re a great manager it’s not often that you’ll hear you’re doing a good job. (It’s just the standard expected if you’ve been promoted to that level.) I’m not saying you’ll never hear it. But you’ll hear it less often.

During this season, I was going through some burnout for various reasons. But I also felt a sense of duty that just wouldn’t let me quit. At the same time though, it felt like it had been a while since anyone had told me I was doing a good job.

In this season where I was trying to stay the course, but feeling a lot internally, a sadness started creeping into my prayer life. 

One day, I had woken up early and was praying (really more like talking if we’re honest) and telling God how much I was dreading the day. I had to have an unpleasant conversation with someone about their performance, but I wanted to support them and cared about finding a way to make things work.

Sitting in the dark in my living room, I quite bluntly tried to sidestep the feelings of aloneness I was wrestling with myself. We’re usually harsh critics of ourselves, and I’m no exception to that. 

Sitting in my chair, everything was quiet. It was early and the morning rush hour traffic hadn’t started. My husband was sleeping. The dog was quiet.

There wasn't much I had to say. In fact that morning all I asked was:

“Could you just send someone today to tell me I’m doing a good job?”

It welled up out of me from a sad place. There wasn’t much else I could pray that morning. So I made that one request. If we’re being honest, I’m not sure my faith was fully behind it either.

Once the day got on, I was swept up in the swirl of busyness, making it easier to compartmentalize my sadness. But it came time for the dreaded chat.

Thankfully, in the moment I felt like I had the right words to address it and the whole review went much better than me, and if we’re honest the HR manager, expected. When it was finished and the employee left, we both started collecting our things.

Suddenly she looked over at me as we were on the verge of leaving and said “That was really great by the way. I’m impressed. You always do such a great job figuring out just what to say and how to handle those situations.”

I thanked her and we chatted a little more, but on the inside, I was telling myself to not let my eyes tear up. She had no idea the weight her feedback held for me, especially as someone I highly esteemed.

When we were finished I immediately thanked God. I was grateful that he saw me and had enough compassion to hear my small ask that morning and deliver exactly what I needed when I needed it most.

In that season the concept of El Roi become real for me. It means ‘the God who sees me’ and it was first used in the Old Testament in Genesis, from a slave in the desert crying out to God. But I also always think of the New Testament verse where Jesus tells Nathanael about seeing him under a tree. It's such a simple moment — but if Jesus saw someone in such a small and quiet moment, it gives me confidence he's listening to us in those times too.

John 1:47-48

47 When Jesus saw Nathanael approaching, he said of him, "Here truly is an Israelite in whome there is no deceit." 48 "How do you know me?" Nathanael asked. Jesus answered, "I saw you while you were still under the fig tree befor Philip called you." 

Feeling alone or thinking we are alone is something we humans have wrestled with since the beginning. But since the very beginning, there has always been a kind and caring God who hasn’t ever left us alone. A God who has always listened, and who cares about us in the smallest of ways.