Better Than Feeling Seen

“I finally feel seen!”

We read an article that describes something we’ve long internalized yet struggled to express. We listen to a complete stranger verbally capture something we feel deeply. We sit down to talk to a professional who finally gets us. Has he been listening to my inner dialogue? How does she know what I’m feeling? It’s a powerful experience.

“I just want to be heard!”

We shout into the void in hopes that someone—anyone—would listen. We grow frustrated in our relationships because it seems like even the people closest to us have given up trying. We feel isolated and alone. We wonder if we’re the only one alive experiencing this..

When we feel seen or heard, we’re expressing the relief of validation. We’re all terrified of not being recognized, of living invisible lives. We google our symptoms in hopes of experiencing that powerful “you, too!” moment. We search for diagnoses because labels validate us. If it has a medical name then other people have it too, and it must exist outside of my own head. It must be real. I’m finally seen!

We turn to social media because every like, share, and comment is immediate validation. Someone else resonates with what we’ve expressed. We check back chronically with every ping or red dot. We’re addicted to validation. It feels good. We’ve been heard (Substack/Twitter) or seen (Instagram/TikTok). We’re hooked.

But what if we’re settling? What if there’s something better than feeling seen or feeling heard? What if the fleeting satisfaction of immediate gratification is preventing us from experiencing validation infinitely more substantive and more satisfying?

I imagine the poor widow in Luke 21:1-4 felt unseen and unheard. Jesus had just condemned the scribes—respected by all for their piety and wealth—for devouring widows’ houses (20:47). Only Jesus seemed to notice her. The world did not see widows. We don’t even get this one’s name. They were invisible with nothing to offer—poor, past their prime, useless, dependent on the generosity of others. Drags on society.

Amidst all the activity of temple worship, no one should have noticed the poor widow putting two pennies into the offering box. Richer people were giving far more impressive amounts. The value of two copper coins hasn’t really changed since then. Inflation doesn’t impact what’s already next to worthless. The scholars tell us that her gift was the smallest lawful gift permitted. Clang. That should’ve been the end of it.

But Jesus noticed it. He sees her. Remember that “the LORD sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart” (1 Sam 16:7). And what does Jesus see with his cardiogram vision? Sacrifice. He sees a poor woman giving everything she has in devotion to her God. He praises her. He sees her. He sees everything.

Jesus sees you. He sees your hidden labors to love a difficult spouse. He sees your sleepless nights serving sick children. He sees what never escapes the anonymity of your four walls. He sees your work that will never be Instagram-worthy or garner offers from corporate sponsors. He sees diary entries never published and remembers prayers never heard by human ears. He sees unnoticed service to your church and offerings that kept you from putting more presents under the tree. No human eye will ever see some of those things. If they did, it wouldn’t be noteworthy. But Jesus takes notice of every sacrifice.

Jesus hears you. He hears your cries and notices your pain. He knows what you’re experiencing even before you know how to articulate it yourself. He knows because “we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin” (Heb 4:15). He knows because he too suffered in a human body that didn’t always cooperate. He’s attuned to you even when no other person has a clue.

What’s better than feeling heard and feeling seen? How about being heard and being seen completely and perfectly by your Lord and Savior? How about having the attention of the only One who can complete your sentences and express your feelings better than you can?

Don’t settle for feeling heard and feeling seen. In Christ, you have perfect validation.