“Among the Many, Will the Lord Look at Me?”
Divine Notice, Grace, and Inner Readiness
Often, in moments of quiet prayer, a thought arises in the heart:
“I am only one among so many devotees. When will the Lord notice me? When will His glance fall upon me?”
This feeling is not born of doubt but of longing. It is the soul’s gentle ache to be seen by the Divine.
In temples crowded with folded hands, in sabhas filled with chanting voices, we stand as part of a multitude. Lamps glow, bells ring, names are called—but somewhere within, the heart whispers: “Does He know me?”
The Illusion of Being “One Among Many”
From the human standpoint, numbers matter. We count people, compare merit, measure effort. But the Lord does not see crowds—He sees hearts. To Him, there is no anonymous devotee. The Gītā assures us:
“I know them all, past, present, and future.”
The sense of being overlooked arises not because the Lord has not noticed us, but because we are still learning how to notice Him.
Does the Lord Choose, or Do We Become Ready?
We often ask, “When will the Lord decide to look at me?”
But saints gently reverse the question:
“When will I become still enough to receive His glance?”
The sun shines equally on all, yet only open windows are filled with light. Grace is always flowing; receptivity is what varies.
The Lord’s glance is not delayed—it is uninterrupted. What delays our experience of it is:
A restless mind
Expectations of reward
Bargaining devotion
Comparison with others
Subtle ego: “I deserve His attention.”
Grace descends where surrender replaces demand.
What Must I Do for the Lord to Notice Me?
This question itself carries innocence, but also effort mixed with anxiety. The answer given by bhakti traditions is paradoxical:
Do less to impress. Be more to receive.
What truly draws the Lord’s attention is not spiritual display, but spiritual transparency.
Simplicity of Heart
The Lord is drawn to the unadorned call—like a child crying without words. When prayer loses its eloquence and becomes honest, it reaches Him faster.
Constancy Over Intensity
Not loud devotion, but faithful devotion. A lamp lit every day attracts the Divine more than fireworks lit once.
Self-forgetfulness
When devotion is no longer about me and becomes about Him, the distance dissolves. The Lord notices the devotee who forgets to notice himself.
Acceptance of His Timing
Waiting without resentment is itself worship. The heart that says, “Even if You do not come, I will still wait,” is already seen.
The Lord Notices Us in Ways We Do Not Recognize
We often expect a dramatic sign—visions, miracles, or sudden transformation. But the Lord’s glance is subtle:
A quiet strength during sorrow
A restraint before wrongdoing
An unexpected calm
A tear during a bhajan
A softening of pride
These are signs of His attention.
The devotee asks, “Why has He not looked at me?”
The Lord smiles, “Child, you are standing because I am holding you.”
From “Look at Me” to “Let Me Look at You”
The deepest shift happens when prayer changes from: “O Lord, look at me”
to
“O Lord, let me look at You without distraction.”
In that gaze, the seeker disappears. And where there is no seeker, there is only the Seen.
You Were Never Unnoticed
The fear of being one among many is born of separation. In truth, the Lord does not keep lists. He keeps relationships. The moment longing becomes surrender, and effort becomes offering, the question dissolves.
You were never waiting to be noticed.
You were waiting to recognize that you always were.
And when that realization dawns, the Lord’s glance is no longer something you seek—it becomes the very light by which you live
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