unSeen
It is a truth universally acknowledged that humanity often finds lies easier to believe than truth.
-Audrey Frank
Arresting in their beauty, her brown eyes were gracefully framed by long eyelashes and a carefully drawn line of kohl along the upper lids. I momentarily forgot I was at a surgical clinic, my team’s purpose to repair facial deformities. I saw no deformity in this beautiful young woman. But she had not yet removed the cobalt blue scarf that draped over her hair and face, hiding her complete visage from view.
“Peace be upon you and may God give long life to your parents,” she said in greeting. “Could you have mercy on me and see me alone?”
I sensed the shame and urgency in her manner. She held the posture of one who was risking everything, precariously balanced on the razor-sharp edge of despair and hope. I asked a colleague to cover me while I led her to a private space where we could speak without an audience.
Now here we were, alone in a room, her beautiful eyes looking straight at me as though measuring my trustworthiness. To break the ice, I began with customary, polite questions.
“Have you traveled far?”
“Yes. My village is many hours from here.”
“What is your name?”
“Jameelah.”
“You must be tired. May I get you a glass of water?”
“No, thank you.”
I waited, saying a silent prayer that God would help Jameelah trust me and that he would give me wisdom to know best how to assist her.
“I am not like the people out there,” she finally said, gesturing beyond the closed door.
“I was born complete, without any deformity. My father has been fiercely protective of me. He would not let men see my face because he did not want unworthy ones asking for my hand in marriage. He told me to wait and one day he would find the right husband for me. Father did find a man for me eventually, but he was as old as my father and I was not pleased with him. He came to our home and brought gold necklaces and beautiful dresses, but I was not impressed with his old face and wrinkled hands. I met a boy at school whom I loved and I wanted to marry him.” Jameelah paused here, nervously readjusting her scarf with henna-tipped fingers, making sure only her eyes were visible.
“Father and I had many fights about this. I cried and begged him not to make me marry the old man. When the old man came one day with sweets and perfume, I threw them at him and told him that I would not marry him because I was in love with a handsome boy my own age. This humiliated my father and my mother ran to her room weeping.”
“The next week, as I was carrying food to the animals, a man with a covered face leapt out of the bushes with a machete and destroyed my beauty. He said, “If I cannot have you, no one will.” He left me lying on the ground bleeding until I passed out. When I woke up, I was in my bed. My mother and my aunts took care of me until the wound closed.”
She stopped here and carefully removed her scarf. I had been trained to maintain my composure when working with those who have extreme facial deformities. But in that moment, it was extremely difficult to withhold my distress at what had been done to this exquisitely lovely young woman. The face looking back at me appeared to be the image of a broken mirror. A jagged line ran from the top right corner of her cheekbone, across her nose, and down to the far edge of her opposite jawbone, creating a ghastly asymmetry of what had once been a perfectly balanced face. Jameelah’s full lips were separated by a rutted purple ridge, the thick scar tissue making some sounds difficult to form as she spoke.
I let my eyes fill with the tears that demanded to flow. Reaching out my right hand, I took hers and murmured Arabic expressions of sorrow and disbelief. Her bravely squared shoulders relaxed and she leaned closer.
“I know God sees me. Can you help me?”
Excerpted from Covered Glory: The Face of Honor and Shame in the Muslim World, pp. 129-131, (2019, Harvest House Publishers) by Audrey Frank. To read more about Jameelah and her journey from shame to honor, get your copy here.
She gave this name to the Lord who spoke to her: “You are the God who sees me,” for she said, “I have now seen the One who sees me.” Genesis 16:3
Genesis 16:3
We are not unlike Jameelah, her face the image of a broken mirror. We gaze upon our souls and see a fragmented version of who we were created to be. Our image is marred by the shattered shards of sin, lies we have believed to be truth.
Humankind’s beautiful image, that visage created in the likeness of our Creator Father God, has been broken. We need help. We need healing. We need someone to make us complete again.
Beneath the damage, despite the damage, there is indelible truth inscribed upon the surface of our souls. Truth that is absolute, unremovable, emphatic in its insistence: “I know God sees me.”
But the lie that we are unseen rages on, its stormy blackness seeking to blot out the words of Truth etched in light from the beginning of time.
You are alone.
You are unnoticed.
Invisible.
Herein lies hope for the unSeen: the darkness, no matter how great, cannot overcome the light.
The One who declares you Seen is the very One who made you.
In Him is life. He is the Light, and He is the Word of God.
His name is Jesus, and He declares you Seen.
Take my hand and come with me as we uncover the lie that you are unSeen. God sees you. You have never, not for one moment in your life, not even the darkest moment, been invisible to Him. #believewhatistrue #youmatter Share on XIn the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
John 1:1-5
The Messiah Jesus came to restore all that was taken from you. He is the Light of the World, and in His light, all that is hidden is revealed, all who are unSeen are Seen, and all who will come to Him will be saved.
Lord, I feel invisible. Not understood. Hidden. I want to be seen by You. Please flood me with Your light and heal me. May I, like Hagar and Jameelah, declare that you are the God who sees me. Amen.
Some lies seem to be written on hearts in permanent ink, graffitied in different languages across cultures and continents, yet all meaning the same. unWorthy. unLoveable. unSeen. unHeard. unKnown. unClean. unDefended.
At The Truth Collective, we are seeking to uncover the lies and help people believe what is True. We are proud to unveil our latest project, the unGallery, premiering in Charlotte, NC, October 10-11. Global artists have contributed exquisite expressions of the lies we often believe, and the Truth that sets us free. I hope you will join us by reserving your space here. Be sure to use the code AudreyFrank for a 30% discount.
As we approach the unGallery premier, I will be unpacking these unTruths at our weekly storytime. Join me as we uncover lies and believe Truth together.
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