The second plague God sent on Egypt (since they wouldn’t let His people go) was frogs. Frogs in the beds, frogs in the ovens, frogs in the kneading bowls, frogs everywhere! It was disgusting and miserable.

So Pharaoh called for Moses and said, “Entreat the LORD that He remove the frogs from me and from my people. I will let the people go, that they may sacrifice to the LORD.”

Moses replied, “The honor is yours to tell me: when shall I entreat for you and your servants and your people, that the frogs be destroyed from you and your houses, that they may be left only in the Nile?” And Pharaoh said, “Tomorrow.”

His answer has baffled me for years. Why in the world would Pharaoh want to spend “one more night with the frogs”? He could’ve said, “Send them away now!” But apparently “tomorrow” was soon enough. Go figure.

“One More Night With The Frogs.” It sounds like the title of a twangy, country song. Can you hear a singer crooning about that sleepless night with the deep-throated croakers? Or slip-sliding on a hundred slimy, little hoppers? Or seeing them doing the back-stroke in his iced tea?

But friends, this is a picture of what happens when a stiff neck gets together with a hardened heart and clenched jaw. Common sense leaves the chat. Nonsensical, thick-witted, foolhardy decision-making takes over.

Not that you or I would know anything about that. But we’ve heard of people like that.

Lord, I regret that my first reaction is to square my shoulders and set my jaw. I’d never admit it, but I’d take another night with the frogs before I soften my heart toward You. How truly ugly that is. Please bring about in me a broken and contrite heart—something You’ll never despise.