The rain came.  It has finally come.  It is one of those all day rains, steady.  Not to say that there isn’t an occasional tinge of thunder.  No, it is the kind of rain that makes you curl up on the couch and enjoy it.  Rain drops falling on a window about your head; drum rhythm to the music of your mind.  Threatening storm clouds have skirted east, leaving the steady rain.  You dream of sunny days to come.

Rain cleanses.  We need a good rain to melt the winter snows and clean the salt off our roads.  A good rain can wash marble steps of capitol grime.  A steady rain can change things.  Spring is inevitable.  In sunshine following rain, life grows.     

A spring rain can grow to become a flood, a torrent.  It can become destructive, or given a hand, it can be guided.  A quick hand can advert a sudden catastrophe.  An intelligent hand, given time, can plan ahead.  A wise hand is ultimately judged by history, but wise men have always consulted their fellows.

We here in corn country view rain as almost a god, a capricious god, but still one of the pantheons of gods that rule Midwest farm lives.  An all day spring rain can be both a blessing and a curse.  If you have already planted before the rain then it is a blessing.  The rain irrigates your crop.  If you were slow to plant and the rains came, then they delay your crop and the rain is a curse.

The rain that has fallen over our country today, could not have delayed another day.  A wise farmer, an intelligent farmer, a quick farmer would plant our seed corn, our capital and planted it quickly, intelligently and wisely.  A son of Lincoln would know how.

A lot is asked, a lot is expected of just one man.  But is that true?  Aren’t we all in this together?  Can’t we stand together and weather this storm? 

In our overarching hope, we stand united!