You See Me Here Again [Hagar]

Twice Hagar found herself in the wilderness. Twice she faced uncertainty, rejection, and fear for her future. And twice God met her there. Inspired by Genesis 16 and 21, You See Me Here Again tells the story of a woman who discovered that she was never invisible to God. He knew her name. He heard her son's cries. And when she could see no way forward, He opened her eyes to the provision she desperately needed. For anyone who has ever felt overlooked, abandoned, or afraid of what tomorrow might bring, Hagar's story offers a beautiful reminder: The God who saw you then still sees you now. In Abraham and Sarah’s tents, The years went slowly by; They longed to hear a little son Beneath that promised sky. But Sarah’s empty arms grew tired; She offered him her maid. And Abraham agreed to take The path their longing made. I’m Hagar, far from Egypt’s home, A servant in their care; They placed their hopes upon my womb, And life began in there. My pride looked down on Sarah’s grief; Her anger wounded mine. I fled their tents into the heat, With no clear road to find. Beside a spring along the road, You called me by my name; You saw beneath my tangled heart, Its sorrow and its shame. You told me I would bear a son, And Ishmael he would be— A name that carried “God has heard” For one who thought to flee. You are the God who sees me here, Beneath the weight I bear; Beyond the work these hands can do, You know the woman there. Where others see a passing life, You see the years ahead; You meet me where my courage fails And hear what goes unsaid. I went back home and bore my son; Then years brought Isaac’s birth. God kept His word to Sarah’s arms— Her laughter filled the earth. But strife arose between the sons; She asked that we should go. And Abraham, with troubled heart, Sent us where winds would blow. With bread and water for the road, We wandered through the heat; Until the waterskin ran dry, And weakness slowed our feet. I left my son beneath a shrub And wept some steps away; I could not bear to watch him die, Or hold the dark at bay. You see me here again, Where fear has worn me thin; The One who found me long ago Has found me here again. I cannot see the road ahead, Or how this grief will mend; But here beneath this empty sky, Your care has not reached its end. You heard my boy; You called to me, And helped my eyes to see A well of water in that place Where hope had ceased to be. I filled the skin and gave him drink, Then reached to take his hand; You held a future for my son Beyond that burning sand. Lord, when impatience shapes my plans, And longing clouds my view, Keep me from making someone bear What I must trust to You. And when I’m known for what I give, But seldom how I feel, Meet me beneath my practiced smile; Let hidden wounds be real. When those I love need more than all My weary hands can bring, Help me receive another’s care Without concealing anything. If all that I can pray is tears, Stay near and help me see The hand, the help, the next small step Your kindness brings to me. You see me here again, And see beyond this day; The place where I was sent away Cannot contain Your grace. Now teach my eyes to notice The one we hurry past; Give me a cup, a listening heart, A kindness that will last. A little shade. A well in view. A hand to hold. A day made new. Beyond the place where welco