Note: On Saturdays, you can find me at Your Daily Tripod, owned by my friend TonyD. A longer version of the post below appears there.
The story of Zechariah resonates with me, perhaps more than any story in the New Testament that does not directly involve Jesus. Zechariah and Elizabeth were old, too old, they believed, to have children. While that likely had caused them some pain and mourning, they seem to have accepted it. They are described as obeying all the commandments and ordinances, and Zechariah had been “randomly” selected to enter the temple sanctuary to burn incense. Good, faithful people, these.
Then, wham! The angel Gabriel appears to Zechariah with all sorts of 
amazing, wonderful news! They will have a son, and they will name him John. John will have a role in preparing the people’s hearts and mind for the Lord’s coming.
My initial reaction I read about Gabriel’s visit is, “Wow! How cool is that? How blessed Elizabeth and Zechariah are! How holy they must be, to receive what probably was their hearts’ desire and to know God’s special role for their son! How could Zechariah possibly ply Gabriel with questions instead of falling to his knees and offering prayers of thanksgiving?”
But then, it’s a lot easier to embrace the Lord’s surprises when they’re in someone else’s life, when we know the end of the story. I think of the times God has made the plan quite clear to me—and I, like Zechariah, have been full of protestations and questions. Sure, I like to think that like Zechariah, I eventually get with the program, but sometimes “eventually” is a lot longer than the months it took Zechariah.
And so, I love the story of Zechariah. He is literally struck speechless until his heart and soul and brain expand enough to be obedient. God in essence protected Zechariah from himself. And I humbly thank God for the times He has protected me from myself.
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