1/13/2026

Day 13
Esther’s Risk

Esther 4:12–16 (NLT)

And then, though it is against the law, I will go in to see the king. If I must die, I must die.” (Ester 4:16B)

“If I must die, I must die.” With these words, Esther stepped out of self-preservation and into costly obedience. Her story teaches us that surrender is not always quiet submission; sometimes it is holy risk. Sometimes faith does not lead us away from danger but straight into it, trusting God with outcomes we cannot see or control.

Esther had reached a place of extraordinary privilege. A young Jewish woman, taken from obscurity, crowned queen of the Persian Empire (Esther 2:17). From the outside, her life looked secure, enviable, protected. Yet that safety was fragile and conditional. Her Jewish identity was hidden, her position dependent on royal favor. When Haman issued a decree to destroy all the Jews—men, women, and children—Esther discovered that proximity to power does not exempt us from obedience to God (Esther 3:13).

Mordecai’s message shattered any illusion of safety: “Don’t think for a moment that because you’re in the palace you will escape when all other Jews are killed” (Esther 4:13, NLT). Silence, he warned, was not neutrality—it was disobedience. And then came the piercing question that echoes through history: “Who knows if perhaps you were made queen for just such a time as this?” (Esther 4:14). Providence reframed Esther’s entire life. Her beauty, her promotion, her access—none of it was accidental. God had positioned her not for comfort, but for courage.

This is the heart of surrender: recognizing that where God has placed you is not primarily for your benefit, but for His purposes. Scripture consistently testifies that God appoints seasons and positions with divine intention (Acts 17:26; Psalm 75:6–7). Esther was not crowned to be safe; she was crowned to be faithful.

Yet Esther’s response is not impulsive. She calls for a three-day fast—no food, no water—gathering the community in prayer (Esther 4:16). Surrender that risks much must be rooted in dependence on God. Before she risked her life before the king, she humbled herself before the Lord. As Proverbs 21:1 reminds us, “The king’s heart is like a stream of water directed by the LORD; he guides it wherever he pleases.”

Then Esther speaks the words that define her legacy: “I will go in to see the king, even though it is against the law. And if I perish, I perish.” This is obedience without guarantees. She does not claim certainty of deliverance. She does not demand reassurance. She entrusts herself to God, echoing the posture of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego: “Our God can rescue us… But even if He doesn’t, we will never serve your gods” (Daniel 3:17–18, NLT).

Esther surrendered her position, her protection, and her very life. She released her grip on self-preservation and embraced God’s purpose. The eventual deliverance of Israel, the reversal of Haman’s plot, and the preservation of God’s people were fruits of that surrender—but they were not the reason for it. Obedience came first. Outcomes belonged to God (Proverbs 16:9).

We often delay surrender until we feel safe. We want clarity before courage, assurance before obedience. But Esther teaches us that true surrender acts on conviction, not certainty. It says, “I will obey because God is worthy, even if obedience costs me everything” (Luke 14:26–27).

What is God asking you to risk for His purposes? Where has He positioned you “for such a time as this”? What silence, safety, or status must be surrendered so that obedience can speak? Can you say with Esther—without conditions, without guarantees—“If I perish, I perish,” and still step forward in faith?

“Silence in the face of evil is not safety—it is surrender to fear instead of God.”