The idiom “stuck between a rock and a hard place” can be traced back to Homer’s epic poem Odyssey, in which Odysseus must pass between Scylla, a cliff-dwelling monster (the rock), and Charybdis, a treacherous whirlpool (the hard place). Ever since, the expression has been used to describe a person who is faced with a difficult dilemma and no easy way out. In today’s passage, King Xerxes finds himself in such a spot. In verse 5, the king asked Queen Esther to tell him who had ordered the destruction of her people. He was already angry. The staccato of the original Hebrew expresses a fury that doesn’t entirely translate to the English text. We can see that Esther’s response was also emotionally charged: “An adversary and enemy! This vile Haman!” (v. 6). Upon hearing this news, the King reacted in a fury (v. 7). He stormed out of the banquet hall and into the garden. He was stuck between the sinister plot of his vengeful second-in-command and the impending death of his Jewish wife. But the situation was even further complicated by the fact that he himself had signed the unspeakable edict into irrevocable law. What way forward could the king possibly find? The passage doesn’t indicate what the King planned to do or say when he returned. Providentially, he didn’t need to come up with an answer because he found Haman illegally alone with Esther, falling on her sofa in despair. Haman sealed his own fate with his foolishness (v. 8). Thus, King Xerxes was justified in sending Haman to his death. The hanging of Haman was the dramatic climax to the personal portion of the Esther conflict. However, with the kingdom-wide edict still in place, the fate of God’s people was not yet resolved. Stay tuned. >> One sin—left unconfessed—will often lead to another. Let’s keep short accounts. If you do not regularly spend time in confession, search your heart today and set aside time to confess your sins to our God who promises forgiveness.

American comic heroes often have a “secret identity.” The true nature of the superhero is known by the reader, but it is carefully concealed from the antagonist and other characters in the story. Only on a rare and significant occasion is their full identity revealed—such as Tony Stark’s shocking public announcement that he was, in fact, Iron Man. The climactic moment in Esther 7 offers a similarly stunning revelation. When Esther’s second banquet was in full swing, Xerxes asked Esther for a third time to reveal her request. He again assured her of his generous disposition toward her, and he addressed her as “Queen Esther” (v. 2). As far as the king was concerned, this role was Esther’s primary identity. Esther began her skillful response by first asking him to spare her own life—and then the lives of her people (v. 3). For the first time, she publicly identified with the Jews—not specifically with their name, but with their fate: “destroyed, killed and annihilated” (v. 4). Notice how she wisely used the passive voice verb—“I and my people have been sold . . . ” (v. 4). She avoided naming Haman, until the King himself wanted to know it. We must be careful not to use “exemplary exegesis.” In other words, we are not to imitate the actions or character of all characters in the Bible. However, in this passage Esther’s courage to identify with God’s people is clearly an example we can admire and follow. Esther stood up for what she believed, even when risk was involved. In the New Testament we see an opposite example when Simon Peter denied being one of Jesus’ disciples, not just once but three times (John 18:15–18). >>American Christians may not fear death, but we can face consequences for proclaiming our faith. A teacher was suspended for giving a Bible to a student. A coach was placed on leave for praying on the field. Have you ever been afraid to be identified as Christ Follower?

In the Charles Dickens novel Oliver Twist, Mr. Bumble is the cruel manager of the workhouse where Oliver is raised. Mr. Bumble marries Mrs. Corney, the matron of the establishment, who is just as tyrannical. But, in a twist of fate, the Bumbles meet their just rewards. By the end of the tale, they are destitute, residents at the workhouse they once owned. Oliver, on the other hand, retires to a peaceful life in the English countryside, surrounded by friends. Poetic justice is served when good characters are finally rewarded and bad characters are punished, through an ironic twist of fate. As we approach the end of the book, we see this happen in the lives of Esther, Mordecai, and Haman. Today’s passage begins with a command, “Go at once. Get the robe and the horse and do just as you suggested for Mordecai the Jew, who sits at the king’s gate” (v. 10). We can imagine Haman’s jaw hit the floor. Haman had no choice but to obey. But what a crushing blow! Not only was Mordecai, given the honor Haman himself had longed for. But now Haman was forced to lead Mordecai through the city, proclaiming, “This is what is done for the man the king delights to honor!” (v. 9). The citizens of the city had certainly seen Haman’s giant gallows, and they probably knew of his animosity for Mordecai. Hence, it is easy to understand why Haman attempted to scuttle secretly home—his head covered in humiliation and grief (v. 12). This grief was over his own demise. When Haman’s wife and friends learned that Mordecai was a Jew, they predicted Haman’s utter ruin (v. 13). But the story was not over. Poetic justice at its most complete was yet to come. >> We don’t always get to see poetic justice, or even the end of the story, in our lives. Today, think about an unresolved situation you are facing. Release the resolution you desire into God’s hands. He alone can deliver true justice.

According to a recent study, fame is now the number one goal of preteens. “Being famous” catapulted from sixteenth place all the way to first, leap-frogging over long-standing life goals such as having a family, working a good job, or living in community. The researchers connect this cataclysmic shift in values to the proliferation of fame-based reality television and social media platforms. Even adults are not immune to the lure of fame. In today’s passage, Haman once again provides us with an example of how not to think and live. We also see another example of God’s providence. Haman arrived in the court of the king first thing in the morning, after the king’s sleepless night. He was seeking permission to hang Mordecai on the gallows he had erected (v. 4). But before Haman could implement his plan, the king called him into his chamber and asked a cryptic question: What should be done “for the man the king delights to honor?” (v. 7). Egotist that he was, Haman assumed the king wanted to honor him. So, he suggested the reward for which he most longed. Haman didn’t need more wealth; he undoubtedly enjoyed all of the luxury afforded to his position in the Persian court. He also didn’t ask for more power or authority, since he was already second only to the king. What he requested was the honor of wearing the king’s own robe and riding the king’s own horse in his own one-man parade through the kingdom. Ultimately, Haman wanted to partake of the king’s prestige. Nothing mattered to him more than fame and admiration. Haman’s desire for personal fame lured him into making a request that would come back to haunt him. >> Social media has created a culture of celebrity, where an individual can catapult to sudden fame by simply garnering the attention of the rest of us. Think about your relationship with social media and fame. Consider the steps you can take to guard your heart and give God first place.

I met my husband in the cafeteria at Moody Bible Institute one September afternoon in 1998. I was a new faculty member. He was a new graduate student. That day, I made the seemingly ordinary decision to eat lunch in a different location. My husband made that same choice. Little did I know that this simple decision of where to eat my lunch would change the course of my entire life. Esther chapter 6 opens with another seemingly ordinary experience: “the king could not sleep” (v. 1). His remedy for insomnia was to order the book of the chronicles to be read aloud. Perhaps he wanted to be entertained. Perhaps he hoped the dry reading material would put him to sleep. The chronicles were the record of every official transaction during the king’s reign. They used it to decide who should be rewarded for faithful service. The king was mortified, therefore, to discover that Mordecai had never been officially honored for foiling his assassination five years earlier (v. 3). The king’s sleeplessness and his middle-of-the-night discovery function in the narrative as a peripety—a sudden turn of events that reverses the expected action. The whole story pivots on this point. The fact that this is such an insignificant event—a sleepless night—further highlights that this story couldn’t possibly be driven by human action, but by an unseen power. God was clearly at work that night. It is providential that the king couldn’t sleep on that exact night. It is providential that he called for the chronicles instead of other reading matter. And it is providential that the account of Mordecai was read. God’s hand is evident in each of these seemingly insignificant details. >> Think about a few key turning points in your life. How did God use seemingly insignificant experiences to change its course? Look for an opportunity to share your story of God’s providence with someone who needs to hear.

If you were to name the “Top Ten Egotists of All Time,” whom would you include? One such list features Billy the Kid, one of the most lethal men in the Wild West, and John Wilkes Booth, the stage actor who shot President Abraham Lincoln in an effort to become a “hero” in the eyes of the South. If such a list had been created in Esther’s time, Haman’s name certainly would have appeared near the top. In today’s passage, the point of view in the narrative suddenly changes. We find ourselves viewing life through Haman’s eyes, and his mind isn’t a particularly pleasant place to be. Haman left Esther’s first banquet “happy and in high spirits” (v. 9). But as soon as he saw Mordecai at the king’s gate and Mordecai refused to show him honor, Haman was filled with rage. What an abrupt and drastic shift of mood! When Haman got home and gathered an audience, he launched into a prideful rant—boasting about his wealth, his progeny, and the honors he had received from the king. Ironically, the pinnacle of his tirade was Queen Esther’s invitation to her banquets. However, none of this would give Haman any satisfaction, as long as Mordecai the Jew was sitting at the king’s gate. To deal with his anger, Haman followed the advice of his wife and friends and plotted a vastly disproportionate revenge—a 75-foot tall gallows on which to have Mordecai hanged. Haman’s pride was only matched by his foolishness. Unfortunately, these character flaws often go hand-in-hand. Pride can drive people to do dastardly things. >> It’s time to examine our own hearts! If you struggle with arrogance, ask God to reveal your own areas of conceit or self-absorption. Consider the situations that might trigger these traits. How do you allow other people to push your buttons or poke your pride?

According to one newspaper report, Americans spend roughly 37 billion hours waiting in lines each year. Researchers added: We are far more satisfied with our “queuing experience” when we have something to do while we wait. We prefer forward movement toward our goal—rather than pausing and standing still. Throughout Scripture, God asks us to wait on Him (Ps. 27:13–14). Notice in today’s verse that the psalmist gives two things to do while we wait: “be strong” and “take heart.” We do this knowing that we do not wait in vain. Commentators have long debated Esther’s decision to hit the “pause” button in Esther 5:4. For Esther, things seemed to be going well. The king and Haman were enjoying her banquet. They were drinking wine, and the king even repeated his gracious offer of up to half of his kingdom. But instead of seizing that opportunity to articulate her request, Esther chose to delay making her request (vv. 7–8). She invited the king and Haman back the next day for another feast—at which time she promised to make her appeal. Why did Esther wait? Was it fear or uncertainty? Postponement presented a risk. The king’s mood could change in 24 hours. Or was Esther exercising wisdom and demonstrating her dependency on God? The delay fit with custom and protocol, where preparation was important before any significant transaction. Providentially, though, the delay allowed Haman’s misguided pride to fester and drive him further into trouble (v. 9). We are able to see the hand of God orchestrating the timing of all things—whether Esther was aware of this or not. >> In this season of your life, is God asking you to move boldly ahead with some project or plan? Or is He telling you, “Press pause and wait on Me”? Tell someone about the ways God is speaking to you, and invite them to pray with you about your next steps.

Don’t you love it when a character finally learns an important lesson and changes for the better? This transformation, in literature, is called the “character arc”—the way in which the main character develops and grows as a result of the story’s conflict. In chapter 5, we see a very different Esther from the one we first met. Here, she is described as a bold and assertive woman. After her “defining moment” in chapter 4, Esther put off her fasting clothes and donned her royal robes (v. 1). At the same time as she identified with the Jewish people, she also “owned” her identity as Queen. Dressed in regal splendor, Esther walked into the inner court of the palace, putting her life on the line. Traditionally, it was only the king who could issue such an invitation. Providentially, the king saw Esther and held out his scepter to her (v. 2). Not only that, but the king asked her to share her request, and he addressed her as Queen Esther. This is the first time in the book that she is directly called “Queen Esther”—and it is by the king. She is referred to by name 37 times in the book. Fourteen of those occasions use the royal designation of “Queen,” and all but one of those fourteen happen after Esther 5:1. This was a transformational moment for Esther indeed. When Queen Esther invited the king and Haman to a banquet, the king immediately accepted (v. 5). The passive girl who “was taken” to the king’s palace (2:8) now had the two most powerful men of the kingdom following her direction. She is transformed before our eyes into a woman of dignity and courage. From Esther’s story, we see how God used this difficult life experience to grow her in important ways. >> Today, reflect on some of the ways God has already transformed you to fulfill your calling. Is He leading you to even greater fruitfulness in your life right now? Jot down a few things you can do to grow in faith and obedience, even today!

Have you ever floated down a lazy river, drifting along with the current? Sometimes our lives can be like that. We go with the flow, choosing comfort over obedience. It can be easier to take the path of least resistance, to just let life happen to us—rather than making the hard or bold choices to follow where God leads. Up until this point in her story, Esther has been a passive protagonist. We previously noted the passive verbs the author used to describe her journey (2:8, 16). But in this moment, upon hearing Mordecai’s solemn warning, Esther is faced with an important choice. We aren’t privy to her thoughts. We don’t know if Esther was up all night, pacing the palace floor. We don’t know what exactly caused her to change her mind. Was it the threat of familial destruction? Or perhaps she gained a clearer understanding of the purpose for her life? What we do know is that, regardless of her motivation, Esther finally took action. She turned the tables, and suddenly she was in charge. With uncompromising authority, she instructed Mordecai to gather all the Jews for a three-day fast. Interestingly, this direction also has a parallel in the book of Joel: “Blow the trumpet in Zion, declare a holy fast, call a sacred assembly” (Joel 2:15). In effect, Esther blew that same trumpet call in Zion. She declared a holy fast. And, most significantly, for the first time, Esther chose to identify herself with the people of God. She made a daring move to fast with them and reveal who she really was. Afterward, she would go to the king—even though it was a life-threatening proposition. >> If you “go with the flow” in life, God may be calling you to step out of passivity and take obedient action. Or perhaps He is asking you to reveal your identity as a Christ follower and reach out to others—even though that might result in ridicule. God promises to be our source of strength and courage as we follow Him.

In March of 2009, my husband Peter and I received phone calls from two different friends, who were each telling us about “a seven-month-old baby boy coming up for adoption.” This baby was first entering the foster care system, and if we decided to bring him into our family, it would be as foster parents—with no guarantee of how the story would unfold. This news came on the heels of years of pain—infertility, miscarriages, and several disrupted adoptions. Our hearts were raw. But it was a defining moment in our lives, and we asked God for wisdom. Should we step out in faith? In today’s passage, Esther faced a defining moment of her own. When she heard of Haman’s plot and Mordecai’s request for her to go to the king, her immediate response was fear. She told him that everyone knew that a person approaching the king unsummoned risked being put to death (v. 11). Esther hadn’t seen the king in 30 days. After five years of marriage, his interest in her had no doubt waned. Mordecai responded to Esther’s fear with the best-known verse in the book. He tells her that she isn’t even safe in the palace, and if she did not act, salvation would come from somewhere else. He ends with a pointed question: “Who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this?” (v. 14). Would Esther align with God’s people, standing up for their safety and risking her own death? Or would she go with the flow, living under the radar? Either way, as Mordecai warned, she would face great risk. And once again we are reminded of God’s sovereignty, that He had placed Esther in the palace “for such a time as this” (v. 14). >> Sometimes we recognize “defining moments” when we are experiencing them. Other times we only recognize them as such when we look back and see how God’s hand was at work. Reflect today on some of the key “defining moments” in your life. How did God work through them?