In late autumn, in the month of Kislev, in the twentieth year of King Artaxerxes’s reign, I was in the fortress of Susa. Hanani, on the my brothers, came to visit me with some other men who had just arrived from Judah. I asked them about the Jews who had returned there from captivity and about how things were going in Jerusalem.
They said to me, “Things are not going well for those who returned to the province of Judah. They are in great trouble and disgrace The wall of Jerusalem has been torn down and the gates have been destroyed by fire.”
When I heard this, I sat down and wept. In fact, for days, I mourned, fasted, and prayed to the God of heaven. (vv. 1-4, NLT)
“The people you rescued by Your great power and strong hand are Your servants. O Lord, please hear my prayer! Listen to the prayers of those of us who delight in honoring You. Please grant me success today by making the king favorable to me. Put into his heart to be kind to me.”
In those days, I was the king’s cup-bearer. ((vv. 10-11, NLT)