06/07/2026
Seen and Known
Katie Gardner
Pressure and anxiety are words that I am all too well acquainted with in my life. I am not proud to admit this, but if we are honest, I think more of us than not deal with these feelings in our lives. When we are young, we often have ideas of what life will be like and maybe even wear
rose-colored glasses that cause us to believe life could never be anything but wonderful. Yet so often we find ourselves caught in the real-life grind, wondering what we are doing, how we ended up here.
Sometimes it feels like we are treading water in the sea of life, gasping for air between mouthfuls
of water and wondering if we were ever truly cut out for this. Maybe your struggle is ministry, family, health, finances or something else.
Whatever has you feeling overwhelmed today, stop for just a moment and remember something: you are not alone. You are not forgotten (Psalm 139:17–18, Deuteronomy 31:8).
You are not insignificant (Matthew 10:29–31).
You are victorious (John 16:33, Romans 8:37, Joshua 1:9).
You have been and will continue to be cared for and blessed (Psalm 23:1–3, Psalm 121:7–8).
These are not simply positive affirmations meant to make us feel warm and fuzzy inside. They
are truth for the daughters of God—a reality we can cling to and draw strength from when we feel crushed beneath the weight of life.
As I sit here writing these words, I am battling my own mental struggles. Sometimes I give in to the lie that all I will ever do is feel like I’m treading water and barely surviving.
Sometimes I wonder why life throws such strange curveballs and catches us off guard. Sometimes I feel completely sideswiped by what actually happens compared to what I thought was supposed to
happen. Can any of you relate?
One of the greatest encouragements God has given me this past year comes from a woman in Scripture who is often overlooked. Her name was Hagar, and her story in Genesis 16 has become one of my favorites in the Bible.
To set the stage, Abraham had been given a great promise by God: a mighty nation would come
from him. But Abraham and Sarah were elderly, and the promise seemed impossible. Sarah grew tired of waiting and decided to “help” God fulfill His promise by giving Hagar, her Egyptian servant, to Abraham so that she could bear a child.
The plan succeeded, but tension quickly followed. Hagar conceived and began looking at Sarah
with contempt, and Sarah responded by treating her harshly. Eventually, Hagar fled into the desert. Scripture does not tell us exactly what happened, but apparently running away into the wilderness while pregnant felt like relief compared to staying.
Then something remarkable happened. The Angel of the Lord found her there and asked, “Where have you come from, and where are you going?” I love how God uses intentional questions throughout Scripture to lead us toward reflection and truth. Hagar did not fully answer either question; she simply replied that she was fleeing from her mistress.
Then the Angel gave instructions that seem difficult at first glance: “Go back and submit to your mistress.” Before Hagar could respond, God also gave her a promise. He assured her that her descendants would be greatly multiplied, and He named her unborn son in a way that reminded her that her suffering had been seen and her cries had been heard.
What a compassionate God we serve.
He met a hurting, desperate woman in the wilderness with truth, promise, and mercy simply because He is good. What strikes me even more is that much of Hagar’s pain came from the sinful choices of people who were followers of God. Her own attitude certainly did not help matters, but at the end of the day, she had been placed in a very difficult situation.
Hagar’s story reminds me of several truths. When I feel alone, confused, and desperate, God meets me there. His Word guides me to think rightly, even when obedience is uncomfortable.
He gives instructions accompanied by promises to sustain us along the way.
Trust and obedience often look like faithfully doing the next right thing day after day. It is rarely glamorous or easy, but it is where our character is formed and strengthened.
Most importantly, He is El Roi—the God who sees me. He sees me not with anger, frustration, or
condemnation, but with compassion and care. Even when His instructions seem counterintuitive, they are for my good and His glory.
If you feel overwhelmed today, remember this: you are not abandoned in the wilderness. He sees you, knows you, and loves you. His goodness and mercy will follow you all the days of your life, and He will continue to restore and refresh you even in the driest seasons of life.
