An Invitation

“Esther, NIV”

The Book of Esther is only ten chapters long, but it's filled with truth, divine timing, and lessons that go way beyond just a bold queen. Most of us know the story. We’ve heard the parts about favor, purpose, and being in the right place “for such a time as this.” But in this space, we’re going deeper.

Because this invitation from the Creator isn’t just about stepping into purpose. It’s about releasing what may be blocking, burdening, or blinding it.

Let’s go back and get some context.

Positioned and Promoted

The phrase “for such a time as this” comes from Esther 4:14, when Mordecai tells Esther her position isn’t random. God placed her there on purpose—for the deliverance of a people.

But while Esther was being positioned, Haman was being promoted. Esther had the King’s favor. Haman had the king’s ear. Esther 3:1–2 tells us that King Xerxes honored Haman and gave him a high seat. Haman had access, authority, and approval. Whatever he wanted to do, the king basically let him. He didn’t even need to ask twice.

We talk about Esther’s courage, and we should. But the truth is, even with her favor, Haman held greater access to the king’s decisions. He had the ear before she had the moment. That contrast matters because it asks us: whose voice is shaping decisions at the top, in our choices, and in our own hearts?

Who Has Your Ear?

Some of us, like King Xerxes, have given our ears to the wrong voices. Voices that sound loyal but are still wounded. Voices deep-seated in malice, hatred, envy, and the like. Toxic doesn’t always look loud. Sometimes it’s quiet. Sometimes it appears as avoidance, perfectionism, or fear that disguises itself as wisdom.

Who has your ear?
Is it wisdom or woundedness?
Is it Mordecai or Haman?

This isn’t just about leadership. It’s about alignment. Because if the wrong voice has your ear, it can easily have your influence too.

Generational Roots

We’re going to pause and talk about Haman for a minute. We usually talk about Haman like he’s just the villain, and yes, he desired evil things. But what if Haman was also operating from pain?

The Bible says he was an Agagite, a descendant of King Agag of the Amalekites. Back in 1 Samuel 15, God told King Saul to completely wipe out the Amalekites. Saul disobeyed, spared Agag, and that disobedience had consequences. Samuel ended up having to kill Agag, but clearly not everyone was destroyed, because here comes Haman, generations later.

So it seems, Haman didn’t just show up bitter. He was probably born into that story. Born into that pain. Born into a version of history that painted the Israelites as enemies. What he carried wasn’t just his own pain; it was passed down.

And isn’t that how a lot of us are? We carry stuff that got passed down: bitterness, silence, shame, pride, struggle. But we also carry our own stuff: our trauma, heartbreaks, broken friendships, the pain nobody apologized for, and the healing we never finished. Or fully received.

And whether it’s passed down or personal, like Haman, we’ve been wearing it like a badge of honor. Like a crest.

We've worn pain like it's power.
We've worn fear like it's wisdom.
We've worn disappointment like it's discernment.
We've worn performance like it's protection.
We've worn bitterness like it's a birthright.

But today, Jehovah Rapha is inviting us to release it.

The Invitation to Release

This is an invitation to release what’s no longer serving us. To release the bitterness we inherited, not just from family, but from friendships, betrayal, church hurt, disappointments, and everything in between.

To release the grudges we buried so deep we forgot they were even there, until we’re triggered. To release the performance we’ve perfected—the strong face, the “I’m good” mask, the “I got it” attitude when we’re tired inside.

Esther had to fast. She had to prepare before going before King Xerxes. That was part of the process. For her, fasting was a moment of release before a moment of courage. She didn’t fast to earn favor. She fasted to align with God’s will. That’s where healing begins. Release before courage. Alignment before action. Stillness before the one who formed you in the womb.

The Enemy Within

This story revealed the enemy. Haman’s pride, bitterness, and rage destroyed him, and not just him, but his household. What we don’t deal with, we pass down. What we won’t release, we relive.

What are we passing on? To our kids, to our friends, to our church family, to strangers who have no idea what story they just walked into?

A Quick Story 

Recently, I was with a group of volunteers, and we had team leads. A few of the team leads, I guess, had never really had the opportunity to lead a group of people in this capacity. Or maybe they had and always believed this was the proper way to lead.

Well, these individuals inserted their authority over the volunteers. At one point, they even demanded respect from one of my friends. Honestly, I wish I had been there to hear them express this need for authority. Knowing me, I probably would’ve laughed out loud.

It reminded me how easily we carry old stories. Being overlooked, dismissed, and undervalued. And how they show up in new rooms. Some of us finally get placed in positions of authority and start leading from past pain. “Now that I have a title, I’ll demand respect,” instead of serving as a leader from a healed heart.

That’s what unhealed history does. It makes people in front of us pay for what people behind us did.

Release Before Rise

Esther released the outcome before she stood. We’re invited to do the same.

To release what’s no longer serving us. Or what we’ve come to serve.
To release bitterness.
To release grudges.
To release the mask we’ve been wearing.

Jehovah Jireh’s invitation to us, “Let me get you ready for what’s next.”

Because we all have a next. But our hands can’t receive if they’re still holding what we refuse to lay down. And when God does the preparing, what happens next is always reversed. The kind of divine shift where God honors humility and humbles pride. That’s what we see next in Esther’s story.

Lay the Crest Down

Maybe it’s time to stop wearing what God never asked us to carry. Some of us have been wearing pain like a crest. The visible symbol of something we never asked for but learned to carry.

We’ve worn bitterness like honor.
We’ve worn disappointment like identity.
We’ve worn fear like protection.

But the Elohim is saying, lay the crest down.

In Esther 6, Haman imagined a royal honor for himself—the robe, the horse, the royal crest. Yet that same crest was placed on Mordecai, a man who never sought recognition. God orchestrated a reversal to prove that humility carries farther than ambition ever can.

So this invitation isn’t about losing worth. It’s about letting God redefine where honor truly belongs. Exchanging self-made symbols for God’s kind of glory. Beauty for ashes. Joy for mourning. Peace for chaos.

Lay the crest down. Let Elohim restore what’s yours in the timing and fullness of divine grace.

An Invitation

Don’t let your story end like Haman’s.
When you stand in the Presence of God, don’t let it be said,
you kept what was meant to be released.

This is your invitation
To release,
To heal,
To rise.
For such a time as this.

El Roi loves you,