Okay, class, it’s time for a quiz. Here’s the only question: How should we react to the truth that God sees everything we do? Should we feel: a) fear; b) guilt; c) disbelief; or d) comfort?
(Cue “Jeopardy” theme song.)
Well, the correct answer is d) comfort, but if we’re honest, most of us would admit it’s a bit unnerving to know “… no creature is hidden from His (God’s) sight, but all are naked and exposed to the eyes of Him to whom we must give account” (Hebrews 4:13).
And all God’s people said, “Yikes.” It’s one thing to pretend Santa Claus knows when we’ve been bad or good, but God is … well, God. And He’s real.
Nevertheless, there’s no denying that many folks are desperate to be seen and to feel seen. Not necessarily by God, but by just about everyone else.
I recently read an article about the warm fuzzies people got when Jill Biden went to a bakery with her hair casually pulled back in a scrunchy. Someone, of course, was on hand to snap a photo, which Mrs. Biden then posted on Twitter.
One follower commented, “The First Lady is wearing a scrunchy. She is truly of the American people. Thank you, Dr. Biden—we feel seen!”
Call me crazy, but Mrs. Biden’s scrunchy doesn’t make me feel “seen” at all. Furthermore, in my opinion, a scrunchy does not “one of us” make. Who else do you know that rolls up to a bakery in a limousine, accompanied by Secret Service agents and an entourage of assistants?
When I see a photo of Mrs. Biden alone at a Dollar General wearing pajama pants and house slippers, with Spam, moon pies and RC Cola in her cart, then we can talk.
This need to feel “seen” is pushing some over the edge … literally. A surprising number of people are accidentally killed each year while trying to take selfie photos on a rooftop or the edge of a cliff, just to impress their social media followers.
The latest attention-grabbing craze—the “Gorilla Glue Challenge”—isn’t quite as risky, but it has landed a few folks in the hospital. This ridiculous fad began when a lady used Gorilla Glue spray to slick down her hair. It certainly worked—her hair was definitely slicked down—but she had to go to a plastic surgeon to get the glue out. She got lots of media attention and, unbelievably, thousands of dollars in donations. If she wanted to feel “seen,” she was.
Inspired by this woman’s story, a guy started the “Gorilla Glue Challenge” and got the ball rolling by using the glue to attach a plastic cup to his lip. He ended up in the emergency room and left without part of his lips.
We’d spare ourselves a lot of misery if we’d stop craving the attention of people and instead bask in the undistracted attention of our gracious God. It’s a blessing, not a curse.
Jesus saw blind Bartimaeus by the side of the road, a desperately sick woman in a pressing crowd, a paralyzed man beside a pool, a group of ostracized lepers, and a sin-weary woman by a well. Jesus saw them when no one else wanted to, and He transformed their lives.
In the Old Testament, God appeared in the desert to a pregnant, runaway servant girl named Hagar. She called Him El Roi, “the God who sees me,” one of my favorite names of God in Scripture.
I don’t have to do anything to get God’s attention. I already have it, and so do you. It’s not about scrunchies or Gorilla Glue. It’s about taking comfort and finding joy in the reality that we’re thoroughly seen by a God who just as thoroughly loves us.