My friend,
In our previous letters, we talked about what to hold close and what to let go. We talked about making peace with the quiet, unnoticed work. We talked about building the discipline of staying watchful even when things seem calm. This letter is about something deeper — something that underpins all of that. It’s about where you stand, and why you cannot afford to step down from it.
After Esther became queen, I stayed at the king's gate. In Susa, the king's gate was the seat of authority — where officials gathered, petitions were heard, and the real business of the kingdom moved. I held my post in the place where power flowed. I did not retreat to the edges of the story, nor did I assume my part was finished. I remained exactly where I could be found, day after day, so that when Esther needed to reach me, I was still there. And when I uncovered the plot against the king, I was positioned to act because I had never abandoned my post.
For a chief of staff today, the king's gate is wherever information flows, relationships are built, and decisions are shaped before they reach the principal’s desk. Staying there isn’t passive — it’s a deliberate choice to remain positioned where you can do the most good. That’s what it means to stay in your elevated place.
You cannot reach down to pull someone up if you’ve already gone down yourself. If I had let the pressure of that court get to me — the fear, the political games, the small indignities — I would have had nothing left to offer Esther. An advisor who has lost their footing cannot steady anyone else.
So I stayed grounded, yet elevated. Not in a way anyone else would have celebrated — nobody applauded me at the gate. But I stayed grounded in the way that truly matters: steady when things got noisy, clear when everyone else was spinning, rooted enough in who I was that when Esther leaned on my counsel, it held.
I know the pull you feel in those rooms. The temptation to just go along, match the tone, blend in — to tell yourself that holding the line is somehow arrogant. But going along doesn’t protect you. It only makes you unavailable to the people who truly need you.When I refused to bow to Haman, it was because I knew what I was there to be — and I refused to trade that away for a quiet life. Your dignity is not yours to spend on appeasing the moment. It is held in trust for the people you serve and the mission you share. Guarding it is faithfulness.
So stay in your elevated place - you earned it. Keep your self-respect whole. Not just for yourself, but because your principal and others will need to reach for you one day. They need to find you still standing.
The One who placed you in that seat remains unnamed in my story — but was never absent. Trust that He is holding you there for something you may not yet fully see. Stay in your elevated place, above the fray.
Write me when the standing gets heavy. I’m not going anywhere.
With respect for everything you carry,
Mordecai
Let’s Pray
Father, thank You for the privilege You have given me to pray for chiefs on the Hill. Their work is critical, and their rewards do not match their level of effort. They are not often seen nor acknowledged by their bosses or colleagues. But You see. You care. And You are there, a very present help in their time of need. So give them Your grace and strength to carry on the job. Surround them with resources and people who can help them stay current and know what their leaders need, and what those who work with them need. Give them insight beyond their knowledge, and most importantly, help them to know You. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.
Next in The Mordecai Framework: Post 6 — Protect Your Principal