Early, the heavy grays hang low and rising from the ground is dense fog. Wet birds sit on buzzing high wires waiting for the storms to pass. Wipers flip back and forth so drivers can see there way. Headlights beaming but travel must be slow. The earth and the forces of nature can not be avoided and today the direction of travel is towards work. With windows up the crash of thunder is muffled and the flash is as quick as lightening can be. Traffic is busy as Americans often are, in so much hurry with no time to waste, not even for a moment of coffee with a friend. Sad isn’t it the our culture often puts accomplishing the next task marked complete on our check list of things to do, as much more important than continuing to act like a friend. Suit and ties scurry to the bank, grease monkeys unlock their set of tools, yet other sit homeless any place shelter can be found. A doorway, in an alley dumpster or even in the doghouse of someones back yard. Only a dogs love can be the friend of such a person who smells the way they smell. Sorrow is the heart of God as he looks down on all the busy. He sends the rain to the rich and the poor, to the brightest mind and to the dumb. So today as the storms of life settle and the sun shines again remember the storms will always pass.