I stood at the kitchen sink, hands working in suds when I glance out the window. There, just beyond the glass, was a mother deer grazing grass while her fawn nursed.

They are no strangers here. I often see a small group in the early mornings, when the sun is just barely peeking over the horizon. Their sillouhettes watchful and attentive to my presence as I let the dogs out.

This land is more than just a place of soil, but a place of sanctuary. Most of those around us own deer stands. Bullets echo through the woods during hunting season. But here, the hunted can rest.

The mother and her fawn stood on the road that leads up to our house. The path is short and narrow, framed by trees. This would make a beautiful picture, I thought to myself. I reached for my camera.

45 yards away, maybe less. A separation far enough to give me hope and yet close enough to shatter the moment. I eased open the front door wide enough to get another glimpse of them before fully stepping out onto the porch.

But it was too late. Even with all the stealth I could gather, she must have spotted the subtle shift of the door opening. Her eyes, pure and prudent, were locked on me. I was seen.

Like our cows, deer are prey, ever-sensing their surroundings where the softest sounds and the slightest of stirrings set off the alarm. Survival is about watching everything and trusting nothing.

Needless to say, I didn’t get the photo. She quickly and quietly disappeared into the woods with her fawn following close behind her.

We are seen by God. His unwavering eyes never grow weary and they never miss a thing. This idea can be a little unsettling at times, knowing that every dark corner in our life and in our being are fully visible to Him.

But I think of Hagar, the slave girl who was abused and abandoned by Sarah. Hagar ran into the wilderness alone without hope and without a defender. And yet God saw her and rescued her. The simple, sacred truth that she was seen by God gave her the courage to step into battle with her eyes turned to the One who never looks away.

Then there’s Nathaniel who became a disciple of Jesus after hearing these simple words: “I saw you under the fig tree.” No sermon. No miracle. Just knowing that he was seen was enough to awaken his soul and follow his Savior.

God sees the overlooked. The hurting. The hopeful.

Just as the deer was watching me as I tried to silently slip through the crack of the door, thinking I could slip by unnoticed, God also sees what we try to pull off in silence. The things we try to cover up.

We can be thankful that He’s not only a God of justice but a God of mercy. He has eyes that rescue, revive, and redeem.

Take heart if you feel unseen, for you have a God who sees you and loves you completely.

Songs for seasons such as this: