The king took off his signet ring, which he had reclaimed from Haman, and presented it to Mordecai. Esther 8:2
Mordecai had never enjoyed a place of honor. He had been born a Jew during a time when it wasn’t popular to be one of God’s people. He had lived his life quietly, learning to be discreet and unassuming. Though he was Esther’s cousin and adopted father, he never made his relationship to the queen public knowledge. I think it’s safe to say that he never expected advancement in this lifetime.
That’s true for so many of us. Life on earth is difficult. Some rewards can only be counted on when we enter into eternal rest. Nonetheless, sometimes God delivers us early. We are moved out of the wilderness into a spacious place, full of blessing. Life turns a corner on a day that begins like all the days prior.
I have known such deliverance. I spent four decades in joyless faith. Though most would have seen me as blessed, my internal world was barren. My mindset was resigned. I was a performer, doing my best to appear to live a meaningful life while feeling disconnected from the heart of my Father. Life slowly unraveled until I lay spent, wondering how I would face the last leg of my journey here. God moved. He opened my eyes to the possibility of another way of life. As I became willing to present myself to Him as a clean slate upon which He could write, I began to glimpse a future I thought impossible to attain. The oppressive thoughts and beliefs I held about myself, God, and others, were re-written by the Holy Spirit as my eyes were opened to the scriptures. God brought streams to my desert.
God promises to do something new, if not in our circumstances, then certainly in our spirit. What starts as a normal day need not be routine. We are designed to enjoy internal blessing. We do not need to dread mornings any longer. They are not the doorway to another day in drudgery. Rather, they are a gateway into the garden of new revelation.
You promise to do a new thing in me. Open my eyes to it. I welcome the refreshing rains of Your Spirit. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.
Today, I may be so consumed with my world that I fail to notice what threatens to destroy the life of someone I love. The signs are probably there if I look. While they may be subtle (for few wear their despair openly on their sleeve), I should be connected to their heart in such a way as to discern the evidence. A face that reveals lack of sleep. Staring off into space. A lifeless spirit. Hibernation from others. Veiled answers to my questions. May I be a catalyst to bring their pain out in to the open before it’s too late.
Seeing a hero fall off of his pedestal can be devastating. I have lived long enough to be surprised by people. On many occasions, those that I admired, those that seemed inoculated from moral failure because of their stature, fell hard. First, there was shock. Then, insecurity spread. I ended up asking myself, “If this person fell, how do I stand a chance of staying faithful to God? And, who can I trust to lead me?”
It is easy to imagine Haman’s shame and allow this part of the story to capture my attention. I love to see justice done, don’t you? I relish the thought that Haman was forced to provide the honor he imagined for himself to the man he hated most.