Scattered about my desk right now are about fifteen Sugar-Free Ricola cough drop wrappers, and a lukewarm cup of some grassy herbal tea. I’ve lost my voice. Again. This has happened before, several times. The weather changes. I’m over-commanding the chords. And then it’s gone.
Millennia ago, a blessed priest named Zechariah faced a far more terrifying round of laryngitis. When an angelic being appears to him in the temple, Zechariah questioned him regarding the message of a son named John who would soon be born to the priest and his wife Elizabeth. The angel removes the priest’s voice. When Zechariah leaves the temple, the people gathered around, but he couldn’t teach, couldn’t explain. Instead, “he kept making signs to them and remained mute” (Luke 1:22).
I never paid that much attention until this morning as to why this was so significant…
Don’t Waste Your Laryngitis