God Sees

Something happened yesterday that made me furious. My daughter played in a tennis tournament away from home, and she was up against some tough competition. In the second round, she was down in the second set, 3-2. The score was 30-30, she won the next two points, and my husband and I thought, fantastic! Now they're tied, 3-3.

But our girl and her opponent began to confer at the net. We were close enough to watch, but not close enough to hear. Tournaments have strict rules about parents not being allowed to interfere, but because we knew there was trouble, we signaled an official. He spoke to both girls, and suddenly they began playing again. I was confused about why, and even more baffled that suddenly, after they had tied 3-3, things changed and the other girl won the set, 4-2.

Our daughter explained through tears that when she won, her opponent said that they were only at 40-30, because she "didn't remember" having played two points. According to her, that had only been one point. When the official was called, it was one word against another, so his only option was to have them play it out from 30-30 all over again. And this time, the other girl won...when mine really had won. We had seen it, but had to go by the rules of no parent input. It nearly killed both my husband and me. 

Later that day, as we headed home, I cried angry tears at the injustice of it all. No, it wasn't life or death, but my child had been cheated out of something she had earned fairly. I was glad at that moment that the USTA had the rules against "parent harassment," because I confess that if not for them, I just might have been up in arms. It was because of those rules that we were actually able to set an example of taking something hard with maturity, even when everything in you screams to the contrary. In the heat of the moment, we want to fly off the handle, but in hindsight, I was grateful for my daughter's sake (and mine, too!) that we had appeared calm on the outside.

As I mulled over my anger in the van, I had the quiet nudge that "God sees." This is a truth that seems trite and obvious when we just say it, but God has a way of using our unpleasant circumstances to turn our "theology" into real life. Yes, I thought, He does see. Yes, He is the ultimate judge, the only "official" who matters. It wouldn't matter if fifty refs had made the call to redo those points; the only judgment that's worth having is God's, and His alone. 

The God of the universe had seen how hard my girl had worked for that win, and He, too, was hurt by what happened. The world is broken, and His heart breaks over every wrong done to us all, no matter how tiny or massive. What's more, when we hurt over something done to our children, we have to know He understands. God the Father had to turn His own head in order to bear sending His Son to the cross. 

Isaiah says in Chapter 42, verse 3: "He will bring forth justice for truth." The little things are big to Him, and so they should be for us. All I can do is remind my girl that God sees, and He knows. All she can do is what she did, plead her case, and not worry when an earthly judge makes a bad call. The only judge who matters is the Lord.

We don't think much about Hagar, who was Sarah's servant girl in the Bible. Back when they were still Abram and Sarai, she was unable to bear children, so she forced Hagar to go to Abram, but then couldn't stand her when Hagar conceived. When Hagar was cast aside, the Lord spoke to her. The Genesis account tells us:
"Then she called the name of the Lord who spoke to her, You-Are-the-God-Who-Sees; for she said, 'Have I also here seen Him who sees me?'" (16:13).

I love this! There is nowhere we can go where He does not see, or where He is not (Psalm 139:7-10). He brings us to a place where head meets heart. Though it hurts, theology becomes more than words; it's about life lessons that we believe with an authority that wasn't there before.

Many years ago, before we had children, my husband and I were at a hockey game. During a break, some t-shirts were thrown out into the crowd for spectators to catch. We watched as a little boy of about seven practically caught one, if not for the beefy bald man who crashed into him, swiping it from under his nose. During this collision, the little fella's glasses fell onto the floor, and were crushed by the man's foot. I thought, surely that man will feel horrible. We watched, anticipating that he would give over the shirt, and apologize profusely about the glasses.

It didn't happen that way. The man, a grown adult (in body only), held up the shirt for his admiring friends, gave a whoop to feed his own ego, and brazenly swaggered away. It nearly killed me to then turn my gaze to the boy, sobbing and holding his broken glasses. I expected his Dad, who had come to his rescue, to turn and punch out the man who had treated his son so horribly. It's what I wanted to do, anyway.

But again, I was left surprised. He didn't turn on the guy at all, but rather used his wits to comfort his son. The boy's father put his arm around his son, held him, and gently steered him away, speaking soft, unintelligible yet no doubt wise words. A non-believer at the time, I was stunned. That Dad made an impression on me that night that I still remember. He set an example that clearly told his son that he loved him, and that the mean, cowardly guy didn't matter ultimately. I'm sure that boy is now a man himself, probably in his early-twenties, who knows that as broken as the world is, we can trust an ultimate Judge with our issues.

I know it hurt God to see that precious little guy get stomped on that night. It hurts Him that my girl was cheated. He hurts over the bully who threatens the weak one at school. His heart breaks for widows and orphans, over sex-trafficking, divorce, cancer victims, and miscarriages. He sees those with dementia who can't remember five minutes ago, and He knows about the unkind words spoken to all of us. 

I've asked God, Job-style, "Why???" "Lord," I've said aloud, "the Word says You are our Protector, that You see...so why?" And I'm reminded that I don't have to know why, although it's okay to ask. God knows that I think it, anyway, so why not just bring it to Him, openly and raw? Why...because Adam and Eve ate that fruit, and the world is "upside down," as my younger girl says. Things happen that were never meant to be, but those who trust Christ have eternity to look forward to. Until then, we have to trust that He sees, and not a sparrow falls without His knowing. There is comfort in knowing that His eye is on the sparrow, and I can know He watches me.