Gimme some kind of sign . . .

I saw a sign today. It is not an unusual sign. I have seen hundreds just like it. But for some reason this time it seemed to pulse like a beacon, drawing my focus to its sudden clarity.

I sometimes pray to God for a sign, and then withdraw the request, not wanting God to think that my faith is somehow weak because I want a sign. I believe God sometimes grants my request even if it has been withdrawn. But, as is God's way, the sign is often as cryptic as the dilemma for which I was requesting a sign. If I am faithful to ponder the meaning of the sign seriously, an answer, guidance, peace or at least incredible amusement is forthcoming.

When I pray for a sign, I imagine divine guidance written in the condensation of the bathroom mirror revealed after the morning shower, a pattern in the swirl of half and half in my coffee cup before it is stirred, a yes or no spelled out in jagged bolts of lightning, or maybe the classic revelation in a dream. None of those have happened, except maybe for the dream, and I am not sure about that. I was asleep.

I never imagine a traffic sign.

But yesterday there it was, filling my vision as if someone had pressed the zoom button on my optic nerve.

One Way

Do Not Enter

Part of the problem is that I have not asked for a sign lately. I have been satisfied being on a need to know basis with the Holy One. So now not only do I have a cryptic answer, I don't even know what the question is.

Perhaps it is my age and stage in life, perhaps it is a need to run away from some recent hurts, perhaps it is boredom, or maybe is is simply a chemical imbalance, but I have had a sense lately that it is time for a change. So when a traffic sign behaves the way that one did yesterday, I wonder if it has anything to do with that vague feeling, or whether it is something else entirely.

Benjamin reminded me the other day that sometimes the most obvious, logical, simple interpretation is the correct one. Sometimes we over-think, we go too deep. Perhaps I am occasionally guilty of this. You regular readers of this blog know it's true. So, what is the most simple interpretation of the sign?

Don't turn my car up that street. Okay, I didn't. But I never considered going up that street. In fact by the time I saw the pulsating warning I was well past the point of making that illegal turn. So I don't think the most obvious interpretation is what I am looking for on this one.

So what about the literal interpretation of the message, not necessarily to be applied to driving my car? There is only one way. And you can't go there. Now that's a depressing thought. What am I supposed to do? Just stay where I am?

Possibly . . . but it just doesn't feel right. While that may be my answer, more pondering seems called for.

What was I doing when I saw the sign? It is sometimes helpful to put the sign in context. I was driving in Nashville, trying to get back to the interstate. There were several one way streets and even a dead end or two. Had I been able to go directly toward the interstate by going the wrong way on the one way street I could have been there in a few seconds. But I had to go a different way, a way that took me out of the way, it seemed to me, several blocks, up music row, around a roundabout with statues of large naked people, by a couple of publishing houses and in the midst of a bunch of offices of the United Methodist Church General Board of Discipleship. Then I was back in the flow of traffic headed the right way, back toward the on-ramp.

Hmmmm. If you have any ideas what that might mean, let me know, but be gentle. Maybe the sign was telling me there is a right way to go, but there are no shortcuts. You can't just jump into the middle of a race. It is important to run the course that is set.

I still pray for signs sometimes. But not as much as I used to. More often I pray for the truth. While my writing and speaking are strictly amateur, I do a lot of it. I have a tremendous fear of misrepresenting the Truth. Yes, the Truth with a capital T. I find I cannot be fully truthful, even in my prayers. There is always a hint (sometimes more than a hint) of manipulation, of pride, of selfishness, even when I am talking to God, and much more when I am communicating with people. It is difficult for me to discern the truth in these contentious and mean-spirited days. Days when being right is more important than being good. Days when my way is the only way, and if you're not going my way then you're going the wrong way and you may as well stay where you are and be left behind. Days when the truth that lies beyond the prescribed path is never heard or seen.

Days when the world tells me there is only one way to go, and if I try to do or say differently, then I'll get run over.

I don't know. But the sign was there jumping out at me. I am sure it is worth pondering . . .

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