She steadied her hands and ran them across her skirt, smoothing out the folds as if to iron the worried creases out of her heart. Looking to her left, she saw the frozen faces of the stone soldiers immortalized on the walls lining entrance to the throne room. Her heart dropped to her stomach with such force she was almost brought to her knees by it; once more she as reminded of the gravity of what lay ahead.
If I perish, I perish. She whispered to herself.
Pressing her shoulders back and her chin up, she took in a breath. At the same time fresh air met her lungs, another dose of reality met her heart: this breath could be one of her last.
Drawing in another, she relished in the sensation — fully alive, breathing in the faint smell of her own perfume and a waft of incense coming from inside the inner court.
She was in no place to make her requests known, certainly not in this manner. Protocol was something she always followed obediently, but there was something far too great at stake to simply wait for the King’s summons.
Looking around, as if it were for the first time, she noticed the pillars stretching from the solid floor to the ornate ceiling above, towering overhead. She couldn’t help but let her mind drift to the story of Lot’s wife.
She remembered the angel’s commands to Lot and his wife: “Flee for your life! Do not look behind you, nor stop anywhere in the Plain; flee to the hills, lest you be swept away.”
The story settled in her heart like an anchor and she knew there was no turning back. Her life was woven into the fabric of her people, just as their lives were woven into hers: it was time to enter the throne room on their behalf, uninvited.
She reached for her skirt and lifted it out of her way as she took her first steps toward the throne.
A breath hitched in her throat as she turned the corner, with just a few short steps she found herself in the presence of the King. Hearing the familiar sound of her steps and the swish of her royal robes, the King turned to see her.
Before any other thought could invade his mind, the beginnings of a soft smile tugged at his lips as he locked eyes with his beautiful bride.
The King was pleased to see her.
A prince stepped out of the shadows and hissed, “Your majesty, you know what this means. She must be…”
The King softly waved hand to silence the prince, all the while never losing sight of his beloved. Upon his gaze, her heart steadied. As she drew nearer to the throne, her boldness strengthened within her, for she had been called for such a time as this.
She was an orphan to whom a crown and a voice had been given. When she accepted the scepter of grace the King extended to her, she moved mountains for her people and she walked in her calling with boldness.
Though this may be a retelling Esther’s story, it is also ours. We too have been given a crown and a scepter of grace.
To me, what is even sweeter than the crowns resting on our orphaned heads is that we have a King who is pleased to see us enter his throne room unannounced. He smiles over us. He delights in our company. He will move mountains for us when our hearts are His to cherish.
Friends, our God smiles when He hears our footsteps in the corridors of heaven, He gazes over us with love and He delights in extending us grace.
When we step into His holy throne room with our prayers, our King turns to meet our gaze. A smile tugs at His lips when His eyes lock with ours:
He is pleased to see us coming.
Featured image by Kaci Baum