“Now help me, who am alone and have no one but you, O LORD, my God.” Queen Esther, the heroine of today’s first reading from the Book of Esther, “which tells a story of the deliverance of the Jewish people” (New American Bible notes), prays this prayer in her darkest hour as she prepares to risk her life for the salvation of her people. The faith that she held since she was a young Jewish girl named Hadassah, an identity she has hidden in order to infiltrate the court of the Persian emperor Ahasuerus, came through and expressed itself so purely in her prayer for her people: “Now help me, who am alone and who have no one but you.” Suddenly “God of Abraham, God of Isaac and God of Jacob” becomes “My God,” to whom she turns in her hour of need.

Esther's faith journey is perhaps not unlike our own. Throughout life we heard about God, the God of Scripture, the God of CCD class, the God of Netflix, the God of the public square, the God of our parents and grandparents. Perhaps we were comfortable, keeping God up there or over there at a distance; keeping our faith hidden deep down inside, just enough so that it would not demand too much of us. Maybe it wasn't until we experienced loss or hardship, when we were afraid, or lost, or anxious for ourselves or someone we love, or when we needed that boost of courage, that suddenly, in an hour of need we turned—finally—to God. God, in whose eyes no tear goes unnoticed: who's been there all along through our joys and sorrows, who's been waiting for us to let our guard down, to become vulnerable, to open our hearts. There and then, we turn to God and cry out: “Now help me, who am alone and have no one but you, O LORD, my God.”

And God answers.

 In the gospel, Jesus says: “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you” (Matthew 7: 7). We pray in Psalm 138: “Lord, on the day I called for help, you answered me.” God has been there for us before. God is here for us NOW.

We are nearing the end of the first week of Lent. As we face our own limitations, anxieties and frailties, let’s release those things that keep us from trusting entirely in God, and, from striving to love God and others as we were made to do. Perhaps we might let Esther's prayer be ours today: “My God, help me who am alone and have no one but you.” We pray it not only for ourselves, but also for the lonely, the orphaned, the abandoned, the sick, the suffering, the fearful, the mourning and the lost. We pray it for our brothers and sisters and for the most vulnerable among us. And may we also add: “O Lord, Our God, help us to give to those who ask, to be light for those who seek, to open the door to those who knock.”  ​