It was already raining lightly when I left the office late Friday afternoon. By the time I merged onto the interstate, the gentle summer rain had turned into a gushing torrent of water. Somewhere along I-459 south of Birmingham, I could barely seen the tail lights of the car creeping along in front of me.
Traffic was bumper to bumper in all three lanes of each direction. We inched along dangerously. I was afraid of what I might hit as I kept going forward, but I was equally afraid of being hit in the rear if I didn’t move fast enough.
I simply couldn’t see what was going on — and I was afraid that trying to pull off the road was no better since I couldn’t see anything and others couldn’t see me.
So I moved along blindly — barely moving — as buckets of rain continued to fall from the sky.
And then I saw something that seemed like a faint shaft of light in the sky off to my right. The rain still beat down furiously, but where was that light coming from?

Which side should we take in Syria? Let’s just mind our own business
Those of us eager to meet Jesus aren’t eager to depart this world
My fears are less about death than about my own ‘unlived’ life
To stay sane and fight life’s battles, we aliens need places of sanctuary
Join me Tuesday for some live radio — if you can stomach an hour of me
Just give us fake, happy smiles; who wants to hear your feelings?
Creators must be wary of making propaganda or work for own ego
I was in love with her voice and didn’t want that call to ever end