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?

Without meaning, most are blind to rot destroying their own lives
Without the state, who would plow roads? We and our neighbors will
Only through death of empires can something new take their places
Was he angry to lose his family? Or because he lost his control?
If God had caused Tim Tebow to win, did He change His mind Saturday?
What would your obit say about you — if you could write it yourself?
Another firm ‘going Galt’ as hedge broker blasts financial corruption
Stunningly arrogant Vatican paper demands world economic dictator
What if emotional baggage we carry isn’t really our core issue?