Esther has been Queen for more than fifteen years. She is speaking to her daughter, a Princess who is betrothed to the ruler of another province. The daughter needs to learn the duties of royalty, and Esther wants to share with her some of the lessons that she herself had to learn so many years before.
Daughter, you will leave me soon. You will be joined to the Prince, and you will travel far away. I’ve tried to prepare you to be his wife, but I wonder if you truly understand what will be required of you as a Princess who will someday be Queen. You know how I became Queen so many years ago. Your grandfather, Mordecai, loved to tell you that story. And you know how that evil man Haman tried to destroy our people. You know my part in stopping him. Since that time I have done my best to rule with dignity and strength.
But what you don’t know is how difficult it was for me to decide to risk my life to try to save my people. I agonized over that decision. In the position of Princess and as Queen, you will have many hard decisions to make. You cannot avoid them and your choices will affect many, many lives. I want to tell you what helped me to make the right choice. Perhaps it will someday help you.
You know how dear Mordecai was to me. He adopted me as his daughter and became my father; I miss him so much. The only time that I argued with him was after I was Queen and he came to me and asked me to appeal to the King, your father, on behalf of our people. He wanted me to enter the inner court, before all of the King’s counselors, and ask him to overturn Haman’s edict, the edict to destroy our people. I remember my feelings of desperation when I spoke to him:
“Father, you do not know what you are asking of me. The King will never do this, and the King is my husband. What if I appeal to him and he does not accept me? I remember what he did to his former Queen, Vashti, when she disobeyed him. Her throne was taken away. She still lives in the palace, but he will not even look at her, and her children are ignored. She lost everything. Vashti defied him for a frivolous reason. That is different from my situation. I would be challenging him to save people’s lives. But will that matter? He put his name on that edict. Will he truly understand what I am asking? My husband, the King, does not like to be challenged, especially in front of his entire court. And how will he react when I reveal my true identity? The people that he has agreed to kill are my people. I could lose everything, my home in the palace, my position. I could lose him, my husband, and I love him.”
I am expecting another message from Mordecai. He and I have exchanged many messages. He keeps telling me to do what is right, no matter what it costs me. I keep reminding him of that cost. He says that my silence will not keep me safe, that God will raise up someone else to save his people—but by then it will be too late for me, and all of my people who are alive now, at this time and in this place. Late one night my father sends me a message asking me to meet him alone in a small banquet room. I know that he will repeat what he has been writing. But he does something that he has never done. First, he looks me straight in the eye. His look is one of tenderness and love, and something else that I am slow to identify. I have always honored his authority and position in my life; will he rebuke me again? But he does not have a look of rebuke, as if I am still a child and he is about to remind me of one of the laws of our people. Instead, he looks at me with genuine respect. Then, he gets down on one knee before me—a supplicant to the Queen. I urge him to rise, but he says no—that I am the Queen, his Queen, and he honors my authority and my position. Then he repeats words that I will never forget. He says, “My dear Esther, Jehovah is good. Who knows if you came to the Kingdom for such a time as this?” Then he leaves me alone.
I go back to my bedchambers, and sit on a low couch near a window. It is dark outside, and the stars cannot be seen from where I sit, but the room is lit by a dozen candles. I cry uncontrollably and cannot stop shaking. My maidservant is very concerned. She pours me a cup of cool water, and urges me to drink. I shake my head no, and she sets the cup by my feet. I want this cup of suffering to pass from me–it could cost me everything. But as Mordecai said, I will die anyway. And what of my people?
Their faces pass before me: the children I played with when I was young, my aunts, uncles, and cousins, and the dear people that we gathered with secretly on the Sabbath—so many people—so many people who do not deserve to suffer and die at Haman’s hands.
I ask my maidservant to leave my chambers, and I remain on my couch, shaking and crying. Here I am, the Queen of one hundred and twenty-seven provinces, curled up like a little child, overcome by my fear, my weakness, and my grief. “Yahweh,” I manage to say. “Yahweh, if you are good, where are you?” He seems so very far away. When the candles burn low, I realize that I am very thirsty. I reach for the cup of water, and hold it in my hand.
A memory from when I was a little girl suddenly fills my mind, a spring rainstorm so vivid that it seems that it is happening right now. Rain is pounding on the roof and on the stones of the street outside. It is pouring off the awnings of the street vendors just outside our door. It is the first time that I have ever seen such rain, and I want to feel it on my face and on my hands, not just see it from a distance. I dance from foot to foot, looking out our back window to the garden outside. “Please, may I go out?” I beg my father. “Please? Please?” He just smiles at me, and finally, he throws open the door. I race outside and dance in the rain. I throw my arms wide and spin in circles. I spin and spin as the rain washes over me, soaks into my dress, and drops to the ground below. It is exhilarating. I feel so clean, so alive, and so free! But it is not enough. So I race back inside and began gathering every cup, every jar, every bowl, every open vessel that we have and I carry them outside and set them down. Still the rain falls, and it fills every one of them to the brim and they begin overflowing. And still the rain falls.
The memory fades. I look down at the cup in my hand. It is filled to the brim. My hand still trembles, the water spills onto my garment, and I feel my Heavenly Father’s approval.
My resistance is washed away by His lavish love. “Jehovah, you are good,” I finally say, and choose to drink deeply of the cool, life-giving water. In the light of the flickering candles, alone in my room, that becomes my prayer, and as I speak to the King of Kings and Lord of Lords, I feel the stirrings of strength and resolve fill me as well.
I slowly stand to my feet, and lift my head. And as I do, I realize that I am certain of one thing—my God can be trusted. The consequences of my actions will not be decided by an earthly King; it is my God who will decide my future. My fear and weakness is replaced by courage and a sense of dignity and liberation, which is befitting the daughter of the highest King of All. This is my identity and it is enough. I tell Him: “I will trust you, I will trust you, no matter what happens. If I lose my life, if I perish—then I perish. But if I do, I will walk straight into your arms, where I belong.”
Daughter, you know what choices I made. You’ve heard the story often enough. I did not die. In fact, your father offered me half of his kingdom. Your grandfather, Mordecai, was honored for his acts of courage and wisdom. Haman, the enemy of our people, was destroyed. And best of all, all of our people were saved. They live, prosper, and are at peace.
Perhaps someday people will remember me and know that I chose to love my God and to use the authority and gifts that He gave me in a good and powerful way. Perhaps I will even have a place in history. My precious daughter, you will also have a place.
You are starting another chapter in the story of our people. You are going far away. But the same rain that falls in this province will fall in your own. Yahweh is good. Receive His kindnesses, His life, and His love. Love your husband. Love him for as many years as the Lord gives you. And every day, every breath that you take, remember to love the Lord your God with all your heart and all your soul and all your mind. Let Him fill you up. And when the time comes to pour yourself out on behalf of others, then Daughter, pour yourself out. You are called to such a time as this.