O Lord, you have examined my heart and know everything about me. You know when I sit down or stand up. You know my thoughts even when I’m far away. You see me when I travel and when I rest at home. You know everything I do. [Psalm 139:1-3 (NLT)]
The Lord is watching everywhere, keeping his eye on both the evil and the good. [Proverbs 15:3 (NLT)]
El Roi is one of the Hebrew names for God. We find it in Genesis 16 when Hagar encountered God in the desert and addressed Him as El Roi, meaning “the God who sees me.” After God told Hagar she was pregnant, He said to name her soon to be born son Ishmael. A combination of the Hebrew el and shama, the boy’s name means “God hears” or “God listens.” God both heard and saw Hagar because He’s omnipresent and omniscient; He can be everywhere and know everything at all times. There’s no place we can hide where we’re unknown, unseen, or unheard by Him.
When you think about it, knowing that God sees and hears us in both our best and worst moments is a bit disconcerting. Like those ever-present security cameras or the traffic cop with his radar gun and ticket book, is God hoping to spot us doing something wrong or catch us breaking His law? Is He a voyeur who likes peeking at us in our most intimate moments? Is He similar to the paparazzi who try to capture celebrities in their most embarrassing ones? My life is boring; as a person of no importance, why would God be interested in watching me?
The answer came when fourteen of our extended family went to a ballgame at Wrigley Field. Out of the blue, my husband and I were offered two extra tickets by a friend. Unlike ours that were high and overlooking right field, these were in the eighth row directly behind home plate. Had there just been the two of us, we would have accepted them in an instant. Nevertheless, we declined the generous offer.
You see, watching the Cubs wasn’t our priority. My eyes weren’t focused on the field—they were focused on the ones I love. I don’t remember who won but I do remember watching the little girls get their hair French braided by an older cousin and having the nine-year-old explain a “walk-off home run” to me. The day was about making sure no one got lost in the crowd, choked on a peanut, or dropped their popcorn; it was getting to hold children on my lap, handing out water, and hearing the girls giggle while sharing secrets. I remember laughing at the children’s antics, holding their hands while singing “Take Me Out to the Ballgame,” and watching their faces as they cheered on the Cubs. I watched my husband wipe catsup off messy faces, my son shepherd kids to the ice cream stand, and a little one fall asleep in his mother’s arms. That day I understood that the God who watches and listens to us isn’t like a Heavenly hall-monitor waiting to catch us running in the halls or making too much noise! He’s not watching us to catch us doing something wrong—God watches and listens because He loves and cares about us! We are His precious children and God loves us as much as my husband and I love our family. That’s not to say God won’t correct us when necessary and there were a few moments that afternoon when we had to offer some correction to the grands. Nevertheless, we barely took our eyes off them because it was a joy to watch them.
I cherish the moments I see and hear my children and grands. It’s not because they are exceptionally talented or beautiful (which, in my eyes, they are) and it’s not so I can judge them. My eyes and ears are on them simply because they are mine and I love them “to the moon and back!” As for being unimportant—my family is of utmost importance to me. Because we are God’s children, each and every one of us is just as important to Him! Like a loving parent or grandparent, God watches over us simply because we are His and He loves us.
When my eldest grand took advanced calculus, I could neither understand what she was doing nor the purpose in doing it (other than gaining entrance into a good university). The following year, she took something called discrete math. Since I was thinking “discreet,” I couldn’t understand how numbers could be cautious or prudent. Even when she explained “discrete” means “individually separate and distinct” and discrete math is the basis for much of computer science, statistics, and programming, I remained in the dark. Fortunately, I wasn’t the one taking SATs and making application to colleges, so I didn’t need to make sense of her difficult curriculum.
“The Lord is my portion,” wrote the prophet Jeremiah. Throughout the Bible, a wide variety of metaphors are used to describe God— rock, refuge, shield, shepherd, fortress, potter, and light—but portion is one of my favorites. Portion refers to one’s share—be it of plunder, an inheritance, or food. Not being a soldier, I can’t relate to the spoils of war and I’ve seen way too many inheritances argued over or squandered to associate those meanings with God. Food, however, is something to which we all can relate.
Thinking we’d never be old enough to retire in Florida, we used to spend our winters in a Colorado mountain town and our days skiing on the slopes. The lift line crew at one lift often posted riddles or trivia questions on a board at the bottom of the hill. As we pondered the answer while riding up, we’d see the answer at the top as we skied off the lift. One day the question was, ”What is greater than God? The poor have it, the rich need it and, if you eat it, you will die!”
While anointing people seems a bit strange to us in the 21st century, in Jesus’ day it was a tradition among the Hebrews to anoint a guest with oil as a way of welcoming them into your home. Anointing them with perfume like nard, however, was a costly and significant act of devotion and honor—one saved for exceptional occasions. A major economic sacrifice, it signaled wholehearted commitment. That twelve ounces of nard used to anoint Jesus in Bethany represented a full year’s wages!
Devotions of the Heart 