Influence

Have you ever found yourself thinking, “Someone should really do something about this”? Maybe it was about a family in need, a difficult situation in your church, or a growing issue in your city. It’s easy to hope that someone else will step up. But what if that someone is you? In Esther 4, we meet a young woman who learns that the very position she holds—however accidental it might seem—was placed in her hands for a divine purpose. The question she faces is the same one we all face when a moment of risk arrives: Will I choose comfort, or will I choose calling?

Esther didn’t arrive at the palace by ambition or strategy. She was an ordinary Jewish girl living in exile when King Ahasuerus removed Queen Vashti and initiated a kingdom-wide search for her replacement. Esther was chosen and crowned queen of Persia (Esther 2:17). But when the evil Haman plotted the annihilation of the Jewish people, including Esther herself, everything changed. Her cousin Mordecai reacted with deep, visible grief—tearing his clothes, covering himself in sackcloth and ashes, and weeping in public at the king’s gate. His actions weren’t simply about personal sorrow; they were a communal cry, a public lament, and a call for someone to respond.

When Esther first hears of Mordecai’s mourning, she sends clothes to cover him up—not out of disrespect, but out of concern. She doesn’t yet know the crisis at hand. But once she does, Mordecai urges her to act, to intercede with the king on behalf of her people. And at first, she hesitates. Her fear is understandable: approaching the king without invitation could cost her life. She hadn’t been summoned in thirty days, and she knew all too well what happened to Queen Vashti for disobedience. Esther's first instinct is self-preservation, not intervention. That hesitation echoes in our own lives when God nudges us to speak out, share our faith, or take a stand for righteousness. We worry about what it might cost us.

But Mordecai doesn’t mince words. He challenges her directly: “If you keep silent at this time, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another place, but you and your father's house will perish. And who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?” (Esther 4:14). It’s one of the most quoted verses in the book for a reason. Mordecai helps Esther—and us—see that influence is a gift from God, not a personal privilege. Our jobs, our platforms, our relationships, and even our trials may all be part of a bigger plan. And when God gives us an opportunity to speak or act for His name, silence is not a neutral choice—it’s disobedience.

Thankfully, Esther doesn’t remain stuck in fear. She moves toward faith. She calls for all the Jews in Susa to fast for three days along with her and her servants. While prayer is not explicitly mentioned, fasting in Scripture is almost always linked with seeking God’s help and wisdom. Her resolve becomes clear when she declares, “I will go to the king, though it is against the law, and if I perish, I perish.” This moment marks a turning point—not just for Esther but for the fate of God’s people. She shifts from a protected royal figure to a bold intercessor, willing to risk everything not for power but for people.

Esther’s story isn’t a call to become heroes—it’s a call to become available. She didn’t begin with flawless courage. She wrestled with fear, delayed in decision, and needed a push from someone who loved her enough to speak the truth. And yet, God used her anyway. That’s the heart of evangelism. God doesn’t wait for perfect people. He invites willing ones. Your influence, like Esther’s, is not accidental. It’s intentional. Where you work, who you live near, the church you attend—none of it is random. The question isn’t whether God wants to use you; the question is whether you’ll say yes.

So this week, consider where God has placed you. Ask yourself: Is there someone I’ve been afraid to talk to about my faith? Is there a situation in my church or city where I’ve hoped “somebody” would step up? What if that somebody is me? Evangelism is risky, but it’s worth it—because lives are at stake and God is already at work. Like Esther, you may be right where you are “for such a time as this.”