This morning, as I drove through a blinding rainstorm that's in the process of devastating huge chunks of the midwest, it dawned on me that I was driving through a blinding rainstorm in Oregon exactly five years ago, listening to the same radio pundits discuss the same war, which has now devastated huge chunks of the mideast. That morning they were waving flags and triumphantly broadcasting the opening shots of Operation Iraqi Freedom. This morning they were much more subdued in their praise.
I thought it was wholly appropriate that the heavens should be crying buckets on both occasions.
Sometimes I think there really might be a god, even if all he can do at this point is cry and regret ever playing in that mud puddle.