Dying beside water

 From Ellis Enobun

Hagar wasn't dying in a place without water;

she was dying beside water she couldn't yet see.

Some pain is so overwhelming it drains your

strength and narrows your vision.

That is where Hagar is in Genesis 21. We know her

story very well. She was an Egyptian slave to

Sarai/Sarah.

Following Hagar's conception of a child for

Abraham, Sarah felt despised and mistreated her

harshly, prompting Hagar to voluntarily leave

Abraham and Sarah in Genesis 16. Later, an Angel

of the LORD met her by a spring of water in the

wilderness and instructed her to return to Sarah

and be submissive.

In Genesis 21, Sarah once again requested Hagar

and Ishmael's expulsion, this time claiming Ishmael

was mocking her son. Abraham, unaware of this

incident, was saddened by his son Ishmael's fate.

However, God then instructed him to heed Sarah's

wishes.

Genesis 21 shifts its focus from Hagar's earlier

actions, omitting any mention of her spiteful

behavior towards Sarah. Despite this, peace

remained elusive in Abraham's household. Imagine

Hagar's pain; she had obeyed the Angel's

command yet chaos persisted.

She had been provided with bread and water and

sent away with nothing else, no plan, no

destination, just complete desolation. When the

water ran out, she resorted to the only option she

could think of. She placed her son under a shrub

for shade and walked about a hundred yards away

so she wouldn't have to witness his death. She

then sat down and wept.

This is one of Scripture's most quietly devastating

images; a mother, a dying child, a barren

wilderness and a God who felt absent. Then the

Angel of God called to her, asking a question that,

given the circumstances, sounded almost strange,

"What is wrong, Hagar?"

God could see exactly what was wrong but asked

anyway. He then told her to get up, lift up the boy

and hold him. And then comes the verse that

transforms the entire story: "And God opened her

eyes and she saw a well of water."

Read that again slowly: God opened her eyes. He 

didn't create a well or cause water to appear: He

simply opened her eyes, and the well was already

there. It was present when she sat down, when

she wept, and when she walked away from her son

to avoid watching him die. The water that was 

destined to save both their lives was there before

she cried out.

Hagar wasn't abandoned in a waterless desert;

she was a desperate woman unable to see what

was already within reach. That doesn't mean she

lacked faith; it means she was human.

She wasn't sitting in a place of lack; she was

sitting in a place where pain obscured what was

already present. That's the nature of exhaustion

and grief, it convinces you there's no way forward.

It doesn't merely hurt; it narrows your vision,

making you see only what confirms your deepest

fears. Sometimes that limited vision blinds you to

mercy that's closer than you think.

God answered her crisis with restored vision not a 

new provision. He didn't change her location; He

changed what she could see right where she

already was. The well doesn't always appear;

sometimes God simply give you your eyes back.

What if the thing you're asking God to provide is

already present, and what you actually need is for

Him to open your eyes to see it?