Hannah’s Story:
I slid into the booth at the restaurant, not really sure what the woman across from me planned to say. I had met Elizabeth, one of our church ministers, a few times before, but we were only acquaintances.
After we ordered lunch, Elizabeth jumped in. “I asked you here to see if you would like to join a cohort of women teachers. I heard that you wanted to teach.”
Stunned, I excitedly replied, “Yes!” How in the world did she know I wanted to learn to teach the Bible? I wondered. After chatting over crisp salads and savory sandwiches, we set up another time to get together. I left that meeting excited that God not only had put a desire in my heart to teach but was now providing training in a most unexpected way—a divine lunch appointment.
Over the next six months, I met with Elizabeth and a few other women as we walked through books together and learned how to craft a message. We circled around the conference room table after church and discussed styles of speaking and how to prepare. We gave feedback to one another and celebrated successes. And we learned to find our voices—our unique ways of expressing our content.
When the pandemic hit in 2020, I felt discouraged at the prospect of canceling our gatherings. Two steps forward, one step back, I groaned. Instead, Elizabeth set up Zoom meetings and we continued to teach one another to hone our skills. During these meetings I started to feel a little bit stronger and more confident as a teacher. The apprehension I had felt about speaking to a crowd mellowed as I taught on a computer screen instead. I learned to look into the camera, not at the individuals. And I learned the magic of the mute button—and the embarrassment when you forget to use it! Though less than ideal, our group continued developing as teachers.
As we began the fall of 2020, still observing pandemic restrictions, Elizabeth asked me and a friend named Leah to set up a small group to walk through a Bible curriculum together. Leah and I would take turns teaching the curriculum, and Elizabeth would continue to help us and provide feedback.
Leah and I each recruited kind friends to be our guinea pigs. As we began to meet with our group—primarily online—I felt grateful for how much I had learned. I no longer struggled to expand my content. I had learned to speak with more clarity in my teaching and to conquer the tricky constraints of time limits.
Just a year before, I had told a friend about my desire to teach and expressed how nearly impossible it seemed at my own church due to its size. How would I teach there? Though my opportunity now looked quite different than what I had imagined, God brought me exactly what I had asked for: a mentor and opportunities to develop. I felt seen by God, as exiled Hagar must have felt in Genesis 16:13: “So she named the Lord who spoke to her: ‘You are El-roi,’ for she said, ‘In this place have I actually seen the one who sees me.’”
Sometimes we feel unseen. We live in a big world with more important things for God to attend to, right? Honestly, sometimes I see God as the Hot Shot CEO Dad who never looks up from his newspaper at the dining table. He nods in an attempt to give attention, but really stays focused elsewhere. But our God exists high above us and comes near, transcendent and intimate. God isn’t the Hot Shot CEO Dad but a loving parent who pauses his work to crawl down to our level and read us our favorite story. He put a teaching desire in me, and he provided a way to grow in that desire. He is an attentive parent who provides for me, sees me and loves me.
A simple lunch turned into so much more. As I reflected back that year, my gratitude towards God increased. He met me in my desires and in my frustrations and brought me so much more than I hoped. He answered the prayers I had prayed through that lunch meeting with Elizabeth. If you feel unseen, take heart. God sees you and loves you.
