There is a fascinating way to read the story of Jacob and Esau that I recently heard from Leke Alder.

We all know the familiar version.

Isaac, now old and with failing eyesight, calls Esau and tells him to go out, hunt some game, prepare the meal he loves, and bring it to him. After eating, Isaac intends to bless Esau.

Rebekah overhears the conversation.

She calls Jacob, devises a plan, prepares food, disguises Jacob as his brother, and sends him to Isaac.

Jacob receives the blessing.

Then Esau arrives.

But there is a small detail in the sequence of events that is easy to overlook.

When Esau eventually enters his father’s room with the food he has prepared, Isaac is shocked.

“Who was he then that hunted venison, and brought it me, and I have eaten of all before thou camest, and have blessed him?”
— Genesis 27:33

Isaac’s words suggest that Jacob had left only shortly before Esau entered.

That creates an interesting possibility.

Esau may already have returned from hunting while Jacob was still with Isaac. He still had to prepare the game and make the meal before taking it to his father.

And that raises a question:

What if Esau had announced his arrival?

What if, on returning from the field, he had first gone to his father and said:

“Father, I have returned. I found the game. I am preparing your meal now, and I will bring it shortly.”

The entire situation might have changed.

Isaac would have known Esau was home.

If another “Esau” appeared moments later carrying food, the deception would immediately have become more difficult.

The difference between losing the blessing and exposing the deception may have been nothing more than a simple announcement:

I am here.

Of course, Genesis does not explicitly tell us that Esau was already inside the house while Jacob received the blessing. We should not turn an interpretation into Scripture. But the sequence offers a compelling reflection on something that happens far beyond Esau’s story.

Sometimes People Don’t Know You Have Arrived

There are moments in life when we assume that our work should speak for itself.

We have done the hunting.

We have found the opportunity.

We have developed the competence.

We have prepared ourselves.

We are working hard behind the scenes.

And because we know what we have done, we unconsciously assume that the people who matter know too.

But they may not.

There is a difference between being present and being known to be present.

There is a difference between doing the work and communicating that the work has been done.

There is a difference between possessing value and making that value visible.

Esau may have been preparing the very thing his father requested while someone else was standing before his father receiving what Esau expected to receive.

That is a sobering picture.

You can be busy preparing while somebody else is busy presenting.

The World Cannot Always Reward What It Cannot See

Many people have been taught that announcing themselves is arrogance.

So they remain silent.

They don’t talk about their achievements.

They don’t update the people who entrusted them with responsibility.

They don’t communicate progress.

They don’t tell decision-makers that the assignment is complete.

They don’t tell the market what they have built.

They don’t tell their network what they can do.

They don’t ask for the opportunity.

They simply keep preparing their venison.

And sometimes, by the time they enter the room, the decision has already been made.

This isn’t an argument for noise.

It isn’t an argument for self-promotion without substance.

Esau actually went hunting.

The lesson is not: announce what you haven’t done.

The lesson is: don’t hide what you have done.

Competence and visibility are not enemies.

Substance and communication belong together.

Communication Protects Position

There is another dimension to the story.

Communication doesn’t merely attract opportunities. Sometimes it protects existing ones.

Imagine how differently Isaac might have responded if he knew Esau had returned.

“Father, I’m back.”

Four ordinary words.

But those four words would have introduced information into the environment.

And information changes decisions.

This principle applies everywhere.

In organisations, a team member completes 80% of an important assignment but gives no update. Management assumes nothing is happening and gives the work to someone else.

In business, a company quietly develops an excellent capability but never tells its clients. A competitor becomes known for the same capability and captures the market.

In relationships, someone assumes their intentions are obvious and discovers that the other person interpreted their silence differently.

In leadership, someone spends years doing excellent work but never develops relationships with the people making consequential decisions.

They were there.

They simply never announced their arrival.

Don’t Confuse Silence With Humility

There is a kind of silence that comes from humility.

There is another kind that comes from fear.

Fear of appearing ambitious.

Fear of rejection.

Fear of being judged.

Fear of seeming boastful.

Fear of putting ourselves forward.

We should know the difference.

Humility does not require invisibility.

You can communicate your contribution without exaggerating it.

You can advocate for your work without diminishing someone else’s.

You can tell people that you are ready without claiming that you are better than everyone else.

You can walk into the room and simply say:

I have returned from the field.

Announce Progress, Not Just Completion

Perhaps the most useful lesson is that communication should not begin when everything is finished.

Esau’s hypothetical mistake was not failing to complete the assignment. He completed it.

The problem was the information gap between departure and presentation.

There are moments when the right communication is simply:

“I’m working on it.”

“The meeting went well.”

“We’ve secured the opportunity.”

“The work is nearly complete.”

“I have returned.”

“I’ll bring it shortly.”

Progress updates can prevent other people from making decisions based on incomplete information.

This matters particularly in leadership and business.

Silence creates an information vacuum. And information vacuums rarely remain empty. People fill them with assumptions.


Esau’s tragedy cannot ultimately be reduced to poor communication. Genesis presents a much larger story involving family dysfunction, deception, character, earlier choices, and God’s purposes.

The point is not that Esau lost his blessing merely because he failed to give Isaac a status update.

The point is that the sequence gives us a useful metaphor for life:

Do not assume that because you are working, the people who matter know that you are working.

Do the hunting.

Bring home the game.

Prepare the meal.

But somewhere between the field and the kitchen, learn to communicate.

Because sometimes opportunity is not lost because you lacked competence.

Sometimes you had the competence.

You had the result.

You were even in the building.

You simply hadn’t entered the room yet.

And by the time you did, someone else had.

So when you return from the field, don’t always disappear quietly into the kitchen.

Sometimes you need to say:

“Father, I am back.”

Sometimes, you need to announce your arrival.