Are you still expecting a miracle?
No, something lean for lunch.
And all of the fish that was in the river died; and the water stank; and the Egyptians could not drink of the water of the river; and there was blood throughout all the land of Egypt.
Let my people go!
Nope!
Sing Mine Eyes have seen the Glory of the Coming of the Lord,” while slaves sing We Shall Over Come. Two sides vocally battle for the spotlight. The magician only can conjure up are modern-day plagues.
What’s happening to the frogs may happen to humans next year. Our scientific sense should tell use something, when frogs multiply and come into our houses and into our bedrooms and into our beds, and into the houses of our servants and our relatives, and when they come into our ovens and pollute our food, what do you think?
Frogs?
Frogs. And what would you think if all those frogs died?
That wouldn’t bode well.
Add lice.
Enough!
It should have been.
Musically: You must shout out! Hope soon he’ll hear us. That’s where the frogs come in. Millions of frogs. Hope, letdown, and the strain of uncertainty. Who in his or her heart doubts the power of God? Sing Let my people go!
No.
Draw nearer to God, since if you don’t it seems like you’ll meet with misfortune.
The people try to contemplate what God will do next. The people like to think that they are in charge, until lightening strikes. More Mine Eyes have seen the Glory of the coming of the Lord and We Shall Over Come. Musically: transition from frogs to lice to swarms of flies.
A good plan given these circumstances is patience.
Patience is strictly necessary but irritating.
We couldn’t eat for the flies. It was an abomination.
We can recall how we toured the coast to the sound of wild music. We had the top down and were driving about hoping to steal a little fresh air. A perfect day, but, on the face of it, we shouldn’t have expected so much. The perfect spot. We pulled over. Anyhow, somehow and somewhere, we found the perfect spot for a picnic. Me and my girl. And let us bring out the fresh bread and a hunk of cheese and eventually start thinking that life couldn’t be better when out of nowhere came a swarm of flies. Dirty flies turned a perfect day black. More “We Shall Over Come.”
Let my people go!
No!
Sing Nobody Knows de Trouble I See. Musically: as hapless as people can be. Duly fatigued they weep laughing, they smile hating, they wait impatiently. I bet they used their best cosmetics off their vanity table, but can’t cover it up. What’s that! A zit! No, no, it’s a boil. That’s what? Boils! Smiling hating, crying laughing. May you never see me in this condition. I don’t care what others think. To adore oneself in the mirror and find one’s face covered with boils. Find the shades and weep.
Stoke a huge furnace; and from the furnace handfuls of ashes.
And it shall become small dust in all the land of Egypt, and shall become a boil breaking forth with swelling upon man, and upon beast, throughout all the land of Egypt.
Draw the shades!
What’s the matter?
I hold the secret from the world. Oh, vanity, vanity, what can I do?
I swear to you that I’ll keep your secret.
No.
Let my people go!
Sing Go Home to My Lord and Be Free. Musically: more pestilence. God smites them and cuts them off from the earth. A display of God’s power, lightening, thunder, rain and very grievous hail. The underpinning of civilization is shaken and threatened.
Ever so sorry. We really are.
Musically: Chimed N-B-C. 1960. The theme songs for the “Bugs Bunny Show/Bugs Bunny,” “Road Runner Hour,” “Bugs Bunny and Tweety Show,” “Search for Tomorrow,” and “Scooby-Doo.”
How awful! Such misfortune. Hoof and mouth disease. All the horses and asses and camels and oxen and sheep. Recoil. Television brought it home. Our eyes demanded that we pay attention. And carcass bonfires blazed everywhere. When they set fire then so many hopes gone. Gone. All gone. Disaster was a common thing. Then it was the Lord’s own day for hail, such as has not been seen before, and the request for a full explanation was put forth. A time to weep because hail struck everything throughout the land and destroyed everything. It looked like a battlefield. Only in Goshen was there no hail. Intreat the Lord, for hadn’t people suffered enough? Pity the cattle. Would you care to know the cost of the loss of barley, rye, and wheat? The scenes, replayed over and over on television, was never to be forgotten, the carcasses and the destruction everywhere. And the grasshoppers. How much more? Like a great mower, they devoured and devoured, stealing our living. And they covered the earth, and you couldn’t see anything. Nothing. Nothing escaped with one still sadder circumstance. Suddenly we didn’t have any electricity and we were caught in the dark. Pardonner!
Sing Let my people go.
But the Lord hardened Pharaoh’s heart.
Randy Ford
