A frog in the throat

I wanted to listen about the zaroah, but I couldn’t.  A sudden onslaught of temptation had infiltrated my brain.  Next would be the afikomen and a prayer, and I was panicked.  This lump of something in my throat was not clearing, and time was short.  For many days and weeks, I had been asking the Lord to sing through me on this occasion, as He had given me great joy for this song.  I had imagined His voice resounding freely and fully into every nook and cranny of every heart in attendance, and yet now in this moment of panic, again I prayed silently, “Lord, may You let nothing in my throat obstruct Your voice tonight.”  I could feel warmth spreading at my neck, which usually means red splotches of nervousness infecting my skin.  My husband and I stood to approach the steps, my eyes peripherally seeing him pick up his guitar, and he began with a beautiful introduction.  I almost didn’t want to sing those first lyrics.  I had hoped so big and with such great anticipation, and all I had envisioned for “Creation Song” was a group of worshippers spellbound to reconsider the magnificence of the Lord.  Anything less was not appealing.  Yet that first verse came, and then the second.  To my amazement, I was noticing an inspiring connection within the congregation.  Their eyes didn’t blink, and their postures stood at attention, and their lips came to join in the latter choruses.  Despite my fears, despite the thoughts that had felt all jumbled in my head, the Lord had prevailed.  He had most certainly covered my voice with His.  And the reactions afterward confirmed that indeed the Holy Spirit had hovered among us.  At that particular seder that our friends call "Jesus, Lamb of God Passover," the Lord had won—once and for all—and again.