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?

It’s wrong to silence anybody, even a nutcase like Alex Jones
Death of classmate from past feels like a reminder to change my life
Do we choose to be free people? Or will we live as slaves to mobs?
With changed priorities, it’s time to re-evaluate my long-term goal
Beauty queen’s suicide leaves me pondering lesson of Richard Cory
Some of us don’t seem ‘wired up’ to stay sane working for others
What if ‘fixing’ a mental condition changes the person you are?