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?

In a culture of cold, ‘no strings’ sex, only emotional intimacy fills needs
Happiness and success elude me unless I’m doing something I love
Brutal truth is that we will never be able to fix all of world’s evils
World is a surreal alien landscape where nothing makes sense to me
Living behind a mask means you won’t allow real self to be loved
Those Libyan ‘freedom fighters’ we paid for? They’re murdering thugs
Bias, incompetence or manipulation? Things aren’t always what they seem
Gloria Allred wants free speech for her, but not for Rush Limbaugh
You finally have to stop making excuses for people who hurt you