When I went to Moravian Falls in September I had a prophetic word spoken over me about having a similar nature as Deborah, Ruth and Esther. So I’ve been reading in Esther with my son. He calls the book Ishkabob. Cracks me up. Today, I was reading about Purim and how this ancient feast came to be. Purim is a feast that is celebrated annually by the Jews to commemorate the defeat of their enemies within the Persian kingdom (Esther 8:9, from India to Ethiopia). In Esther, dates are really important. Several dates are highlighted in the book so that the Jews would know on what date they were celebrating which victory. Most folks know the story. It takes place in the years after Nebuchadnezzar and the Babylonians take over Israel – after Daniel – and after the Medo-Persian Empire then ousts the Babylonians. It takes place in Susa, the capital of the Medo-Persian Empire (the current city of Shush, Iran). Esther is the Hebrew queen of Persia, married to King Ahasuerus, and ends up saving her people from instant death which was instigated by the evil Haman. Haman had written an edict, sealed by the king, that sent all Jews to death on a certain day: the 13th day of the month of Adar. Because of Esther’s wisdom, cunning and favor from God, her husband the king ends up not reversing the edict, but writing another one, allowing the Jews to plunder and destroy those within the kingdom (from India to Ethiopia) who would do harm to the Jewish people. He didn’t reverse his original decision… He allowed the Jews to defend themselves. And they did. On the very day the Jewish people were slated for destruction, they rose up and destroyed their enemies. And then they partied the next day (on either the 14th of Adar, or the 15th of Adar, depending on where they lived).
Being the curious sort of person I am, I picked up my handy-dandy Hebrew-Gregorian calendar – you know – the one with the blood moons on it – to see where, on the Gregorian calendar, the 13th and 14th of Adar fall. It’s at the beginning of March; in 2015, it’s the 5th and 6th of March.
My palms broke out in a sweat and my stomach began to feel queasy. March, traditionally has been a very difficult month for me. When I was in college, the first time I ever had sex I became pregnant. Agreeing with fear and false doctrine on when life begins, I wanted out. I wanted an abortion. The month of March became a sort of closet-month after that. In the years immediately following that horrible event, I ran from God. There were other contributing factors to my flight, but in retrospect, that one was the biggest. I never spoke of it for five years.
Eventually, Jesus wooed me back to Himself, and I succumbed to the Greatest Love Ever. But the pain still lingered. I used to spend much of the month of March either sick or crying or both. Stunningly, my son was born in March. I secretly wondered if his birth was a grace gift from God, signaling I was forgiven. The shame was unbearable. Then three years ago, I went through what is commonly called ‘deliverance’ by a local ministry in my area. These loving, godly people prayed for me. Unholy soul-ties were broken, repentance was made before my Father in heaven, and the shame of hating and murdering my own flesh was reversed. Guilt left. Condemnation left. Jezebel left. Fear left. Spirit of Death left in the Name Above All Names. They all bowed their knee at the Sound of His Name and I was free. Truth, the person Jesus, set me free. It still took some time to walk it out in my flesh. Even though my deliverance experience was several years ago, it was only last March when, for the first time in years, I did not lie on the cold tile floor and wail to heaven. Instead, I danced. I sang. I worshiped my Deliverer in Spirit and in Truth.
And then today I read this: “Mordecai recorded these things, and sent letters to all the Jews who were in all the provinces of King Ahasuerus, both near and far, enjoining them that they should keep the fourteenth day of the month of Adar and also the fifteenth day of the same month, year by year, as the days on which the Jews gained relief from their enemies, and as the month that had been turned for them from sorrow into gladness and from mourning into a holiday; that they should make them days of feasting and gladness, days for sending gifts of food to one another and presents to the poor.” Esther 9:20-22.
The month that my enemy desired my very soul is the very month in which LIFE overcame. The month that had been characterized by dark sorrow and mourning now wears the robes of righteousness, gladness, feasting, joy. My son is a living word from the breath of God. “Pure! Holy unto Me! Redeemed!!” He thunders from the Throneroom! He never reversed His original edict. I was beset with the spiritual consequences, the very real oppression, from my sin. But. He gave me the ability to defend myself through Jesus and under His Shed Blood. I write this with tears of joy and and overwhelming sense of God’s goodness, His outlandish mercy, His hilarious grace, so astonished that I get to be His Beloved.
The beautiful people in Moravian Falls who spoke Words over me do not know me or my story. They simply heard Holy Spirit, and the Words He is speaking over me. They recognized Esther in me. They saw Purim in me. God’s words for me are already bubbling up from the Spirit and into the natural:
“Daughter of Fire,
Rise up, Beloved.
Take power and authority.
Take your place on The Throne beside the Beloved.
It is Time to rule and reign.”
Thy Kingdom, come. Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
Re-conceived for such a time as this.