Overcome Fear – Live Life with Strong Courage

A Story of a Young Queen & Her Triumph Over Fear of Death
Photo by Houcine Ncib on Unsplash

Once there was a beautiful little girl who was raised in exile by her older cousin because her parents were dead and their homeland was far away. She was given a new name, spoke the language of her new country, and was taught to never share her ethnic background. 

One day, as a lovely young woman, she was unexpectedly forced into a mandatory national beauty contest for all young women in the land. Despite the fierce competition, she won! She suddenly gained a crown, a palace, a position as Queen of all the land – and a king for a husband, notorious for his temper and tyranny.

Soon afterwards, an evil nobleman favored by the king rose in authority and used his influence to schedule a massive genocide of a certain people group he hated – little realizing it was the people of the new queen.

Urged by her cousin to use her royal position to plead for mercy from the king, the young queen was shaken and afraid. The king had not asked to see her for over a month, already seemingly indifferent to his new bride. To enter his court without being summoned was punishable by death for the reckless disrespect it showed. 

Once again the cousin repeated his urging – if not her, who? If not now, when? Be certain, he warned, that if she remained silent and did nothing to stop this evil, God would indeed save their people by other means, while she would surely be destroyed for her inaction in this crisis – along with all her family.

Taking a deep breath, the queen accepted her role as advocate for her doomed people, asking only that they first fervently pray for her for three days. Then she would approach the king in his court, illegal though it might be, and risk the outcome – even her own death.

Today is the first day of Purim, the feast of Queen Esther, the courageous queen who acted with wisdom and discernment in interceding for the very lives of her people in the face of what seemed certain death. God – who had made an unbreakable promise to Abraham that the entire world would be blessed through his family – brought salvation to his chosen people, and eventually to the entire world through the birth of the Jewish Messiah Jesus years later. 

While her predicament might seem unrelatable in some ways – not many of us will ever experience pleading for the lives of our people from a despotic king at the risk of our own – if we look at the heart of her fear we can suddenly relate quite well.

What was she so afraid of?

Dying – losing her life and thereby losing everything. Yet her death was inevitable – as is yours and mine. Trying to escape death is futile – it will eventually come (unless the Lord returns first).

What matters is what is done in the time before we die.

What makes the time you have here before your death worthwhile?

What has God called you to and shaped you for? What unique situation and role has been set before you in this season of your life?

What have you been given to do that might scare you? Where have you been called to advocate or shine where you would rather stay silent and hidden?

We will all die. This life is a gift of an hourglass and we all don’t get to know how many grains of sand are left for each of us before we are called home and we fly away (Psalm 90).

What we can do is to be like Queen Esther: Let us first seek our Father-King’s favor and the strength that he gives, pleading with him daily for the wisdom to walk the unique role set before us. Then, let us put on our royal best and, with gracious humility and poise, ACT.

We are not called to live this life safely and silently.

The outcome is not in our hands but the story will not be as satisfying without our courageous actions being part of it. 

Perhaps this is the moment for which YOU have been created.

(Paraphrase of Esther 4:14)

And by “perhaps”, I mean: It is.  You have been placed in this time and this place for a purpose. Fight the fear.

Live courageously. 

We are not promised tomorrow.

Wear Your Crown, Carry Your Sword. – Maria Miller

A Heart of Unusual Grit: A Look at Courageous Thankfulness

One of my lovely daughters is blessed with a forelock. 

That is to say, she has a patch of thick hair from above her forehead that grows forward rather than backwards. Even as an infant she began resembling Highland cattle, and I was tying her hair back from a very early age so we could see her eyes. (Or she looked like this:)

(Highland Cattle – photo by Shane Aldendorff on Unsplash)

The other morning, as I was trying to quickly get through brushing and tying up the various girls’ hair (I have on average 3-4 daughters who still require help), I got to this particular daughter. She clearly and politely requested only two ponytails, but I knew from experience that this would not work with her particular head. The forelock was a factor, and needed its own individual tie. So I made a small ponytail at the top of her head to wrangle the forelock into control, then incorporated it into the two larger pony tails that she had asked for.

Then she realized what I had done. 

In short: Devastation. 

I had used THREE and not TWO hair ties, disregarding her request.

Huge eyes welled up with tears, little shoulders hunched, lower lip out, while gusty sobs began, showing just how much I had disappointed her.

Staring at her in mild astonishment, I watched as enormous tears streamed down her face. She dropped to the ground and wept, apparently inconsolable. This continued for about thirty seconds. Which seemed a lot longer than it was.

Finally, with some moderate impatience (yes, I’m not a perfect mom), I said, “Can you please just stop crying and say ‘Thank you’?!”

She needed her hair tied up. I knew what was going to work best for her and what would last throughout her busy day playing, and I had given her a very cute hairstyle. She had no real reason to cry, and should instead be grateful for my loving care.

Then it struck me: I think this is something God wants to say to me sometimes:

“Can you please just stop crying and say, ‘Thank you’?!”

I have my idea of how something should go. I have my plan that I think is the right way, the perfect path, the only option I find acceptable. And I’ve asked Him for it politely, or just merely expect it because it’s the thing that will make me happy. Since I see no reason why it shouldn’t happen, I calmly await the certain delivery of my (ahem) “request”.

Then when I get something different, or it’s not what I had hoped, or I walk through unexpected loss or hurt, I am devastated by the pain and disappointment.

But knowing Who God is, knowing that He knows infinitely more than I, that He understands all the microscopic nuances of my life and its outcomes, I am showing a blatant lack of trust in my Father when I don’t say, “Thank you.” 

Even if it wasn’t what I wanted

Even if it makes me sad, or I don’t understand, or I wish it were different. 

Those feelings can be there, but I can still choose to declare my gratitude to the Father who is working for my good, because I love Him and I know I am given a purpose in His Kingdom (Romans 8:28).

The command to “give thanks for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Ephesians 5:20, NLT) leaves no room for my feelings, as much as I may rebel and writhe with the apparent callous indifference to them. 

If I want to be obedient to God’s Word, this is a direct choice I must make, regardless of how I feel

Easy? More like terrifying and incredibly difficult.

Yet I must draw a line in the sand and decide in my heart whether or not I believe that my Creator God is truly the kind, all-knowing, always inherently loving Father the Bible says He is, and thank Him for what He has allowed to be for me and my loved ones. 

Or I don’t, and thereby deliberately choose to disobey this clear command.

This is not comfortable. 

This is not a placid, soft, warm-and-squishy kind of thankfulness when I’m feeling happy and things are going my way.

This is where my trust in this God I cannot see becomes the granite of reality and I obstinately choose to believe Him and His Word over my emotions, my experiences, and even my own understanding.

Like my little girl, I need to choose to stop crying and say “Thank you.” This is where the sacrifice comes in my “sacrifice of thanksgiving”.

As King David said, “I will not present offerings that cost me nothing.” (1 Chronicles 21:24)

May God graciously grant you and I the courageous hearts and flinty-faced grit to be thankful for truly everything.

“But giving thanks is a sacrifice that truly honors me. If you keep to my path, I will reveal to you the salvation of God.”

(Psalm 50:23, NLT)

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