The God Who Sees, even my petty Heart

I wish I could tell you this blog is about something noble. A major injustice. A theological epiphany. A life-changing encounter. But it’s not. Ready for the petty me? Here goes…
 It’s about a small moment. A petty moment, really. One that caught me off guard because, well, I thought I’d be past this by now.

Someone didn’t acknowledge something I did.  It wasn’t mean. It wasn’t even intentional. They just… moved on.  No “thank-you.” No “Hey, that meant a lot.” Nothing.

And it stung.

Not in the dramatic, fall-apart way. Just a quiet, pin prick of an ache that I tried to brush off. I told myself I was being silly. I even quoted Scripture to myself. I tried to pray it away. But it lingered. And the part that hurt more than the omission itself?

That I let it sting.

That I, a grown woman in ministry, with a strong sense of calling and deep security in Christ, still longed for that nod. That “I see you. Thank you.” I don’t think that’s wrong. I really don’t. God wired us with a longing for connection and affirmation. Scripture even encourages us to “outdo one another in showing honor” (Romans 12:10). There’s beauty in honoring each other well.

But what happens when that doesn’t come? That’s where my mini heart-tantrum started. Not outwardly. Just internally. The kind of “venting” that disguises itself as processing. The kind of “processing” that quietly slips into a judgmental retelling of what someone should have done differently. Ha. So, mature. Right?

And the Spirit gently nudged me: Is this really where you want to let your heart go?

Nope. Not really.

So, I started walking it back. Remembering that sometimes people forget. Sometimes they’re oblivious. Sometimes they just don’t think the way I think. And sometimes… it’s not about me at all. But, since I’m being honest here…the next feeling that bubbled up was something like:

Seriously? Am I still here? I thought I’d be more spiritually mature by now. Why do I still need affirmation like this? Why am I so petty and needy?

That thought felt silly, small, and maybe just a little disappointing. Especially because I do know I’m loved. I do have people in my life who consistently speak life and kindness into me. So what gives?

I guess the truth is, sometimes it’s not about logic. Sometimes it’s just the weakness of my unsurrendered heart.

John Donne said it like this:

Batter my heart, three-person’d God, for you
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend
Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.

And the Holy Spirit through the Apostle Paul made this idea so very relatable:

For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. (Romans 7:15)

And Jesus spoke to the disciples when He found them sleeping instead of praying like they had promised to do:

“The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.” (Matthew 26:41)

So true. So, so true!

And right there, in that place where I was tempted to either shame myself or stuff the feeling down, the Spirit whispered something gentler.

“Your Father who sees in secret will reward you.” (Matthew 6:4)
 “Let another praise you, and not your own mouth;
a stranger, and not your own lips.” (Proverbs 27:2)

There it was. A quiet moment to release my need to be noticed and rest in the truth that God sees. And goodness gracious, I know those verses! I’ve taught those verses. I believe those verses!  But in that moment, I needed them to not just be true, I needed them to be true for me.

And they were.

But then something even more humbling happened. The Spirit nudged me again, and I realized:
 I’ve done this too. I’ve forgotten to say thank you.
 I’ve been the one who passed over someone’s effort without acknowledgment.
 I’ve been so absorbed in my own tasks, my own goals, my own schedule, that I didn’t stop to say, “I see you. That mattered.”

And that broke my heart more than the original ache. Truly. As I was working out writing my thoughts into this post, I had to pause. I welled up with sorrow and hurt for the people I’m sure I’ve wronged in not blessing them, missed opportunities and the thought that out there is a pin prick of sadness in someone else’s heart that I caused. It took me time to walk away from my desk and really pray and ask God’s forgiveness for those careless moments of my own.

Perspective. Sigh.
 Because I know how it feels to be overlooked, and I’ve caused that same feeling in someone else.

I sat with that for a while.
 The ache. The embarrassment. The conviction.
 And I just said to the Lord:

“You see even this, my small, petty heart. And You love me still. Thank You.”

I sat with that for a while longer.
And that’s when I remembered another woman in Scripture who felt overlooked and unseen. Her name was Hagar, an Egyptian servant, used (literally) and discarded (again, literally!), sent into the wilderness pregnant and alone. And it’s there, in her desperation, that she meets the Lord. And not just as rescuer… but as the God who sees.

“She gave this name to the Lord who spoke to her: ‘You are the God who sees me,’ for she said, ‘I have now seen the One who sees me.’” – Genesis 16:13

אֵל רֱאִי,  El Roi “the God who sees me.”
The God – truly, my God – who sees my noblest acts and deepest pain.
 But even my pettiness, my fragile pride, my unspoken expectations.
 And still… He comes near. He speaks. He restores. He has done all that.

That name, El Roi, has become one of the most comforting in my own walk with God. Because if He could see Hagar in the desert and invite her into His story… then surely He sees me, too. Even in my self-absorbed moments. Even when I should “know better.” And His gaze isn’t harsh. It’s full of mercy.

The God who sees is also the God who stays.

Tears again. I wrote those words and relaxed into His mercy and let the tears stream again.

Oh, God, thank you for your tender love for me and my fickle heart.

I may not like to like to admit this part of myself. I’d rather talk about the bigger issues. The noble wounds.  But sometimes, the most formative spiritual growth happens in the small moments, when someone forgets to say thank you, and we feel too fragile for that silence. That’s me.

And in this moment the Sprit continued to woo me, nudge my heart, turn my mind and bring to memory that His word never returns void…that dwelling well with Him and letting His Word dwell in me would at the right moments bring that very Word flowing like a fresh stream bubbling to the surface of my heart. To the surface they came…I remembered the very fruits of His Spirit that He was nurturing in me…

Love that gives without demanding a return
Joy that isn’t tied to applause
Peace that silences comparison
Patience when growth feels frustratingly slow
Kindness that turns our ache outward
Goodness that sees others with intention
Faithfulness that keeps showing up
Gentleness with ourselves and others
Self-control in how we think, speak, and stew

There it was. A quiet moment to release my need to be noticed and rest in the truth that God sees.

He sees when we give quietly.
He sees when we speak up with love.
He sees when we hold our tongue.
He sees when we keep showing up, even when we’re tired.

And His “Well done” is enough.

Would I still like people to say thank you? Of course. Would it be nice to be recognized when I serve? Absolutely. But I don’t want to need that in order to be faithful.

I want to be like Christ, who washed feet without applause. Who healed the ungrateful. Who gave and gave and gave, even when no one noticed.

That’s not just a ministry goal. That’s a discipleship pathway.

I want to grow there. I want to become a woman who not only releases the need to be noticed but who actively sees others better because of it.

And if you’ve ever felt that ache, that invisible sting of being passed over, I want you to know this:
 You’re not silly.
 You’re not overly sensitive.
 You’re growing.

And your Father sees.

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📥 A Free Resource for You

To help guide that growth, I’m writing a Scripture-rich journaling guide:
 Unseen but Growing: A 10-Day Journey Toward Christlike Maturity

Each day focuses on one of the fruits of the Spirit and includes Scripture, reflection questions, and a prayer to help you grow in grace and quiet faithfulness, even when no one else notices.

You’ll be able to download it for free right here on my website, or get it sent right to your inbox when you sign-up for my mailing list.  

Let the Word of Christ dwell in you richly. And let it change how you respond, how you love, and how you heal from even the smallest hurts.

He sees your heart.
 All of it.
 Even the petty parts.
 And He’s not annoyed. He’s at work.