Signs. Over the last months I have found myself driving through several states and have been aware of the various billboards that dot the highways. I’ve noticed that some states seem to gravitate toward more signage than others. In some sates they are nearly constant and in others you can drive for countless miles and see no messages calling from the fields. During an early drive, I saw the message “Billboards work.” Clearly this was placed by a business that sells billboard space. I wondered. Is this true? Is anyone really pushed toward a product or idea by a message blazoned on a billboard, one difficult to read at breakneck speeds as one drives? 

Given the weeks in which I was driving, clearly, some of those messages placed by folks running for political offices were counting on the impact. I saw lots of those. Some of the other messages that actually stuck with me, causing me to write them down when it was safe to do so were: Live more. Worry Less. I liked that one. Iseemed to be a series because that billboard was followed up with: Start fresh. and a little further down the road, Use Your Outside Voice. It was unclear who was putting these messages into the world but they did give me something to think about as I drove. Another: Forgive Like Jesus caused me to think about the depth of those three words. Pretty big stuff to think about while moving at sixty plus miles per hour. Do I forgive with the open hearted, unconditional nature of Jesus? Mostly, not so much.

Peppered among these road side signs were the trucks carrying various large pieces of farm equipment and parts of wind turbines destined for farm fields along the way. I am always in awe of those who can maneuver one of those enormous rigs. Luckily their message, strapped across the back of their vehicle, “Oversize load”, makes clear that I am wise to not only be in awe but to stay back and stay safe. I thought of all the people who are carrying an oversize load in these very challenging times, how most don’t have a visible sign to nudge us into being careful and caring in their presence.

One of the most telling signs came to me not on the road but at Yellowstone National Park. Walking along the plank path created through the many geysers, I witnessed this sign: Unstable Ground. Boiling Water. Stay on designated paths. Slippery when wet or icy.. I thought about how this seemed an apt message for our times. We are certainly on some big old unstable ground right now which feels like something is boiling under our feet. The urging to stay on our designated paths lest the slippery ground causes us to falter seems very wise.

In the uncertainty of 2020, many of us are looking for signs. Guideposts that answer such questions as: When will this pandemic be over? Should I go or stay home? Can I be with those people but perhaps not others? Is this safe? Is this wise? We would love some clear, certain messages that tell us what to do. Others believe they have clear answers and seem to move with an assurance that baffles many. It is probably within the human DNA to search for signs, to hope for signs, to rely on messages we believe must lurk just outside our vision. 

While signs that come through words are almost always present, it has been my experience that the wordless signs are often the most powerful. The messages that come without verbal nuance are often more difficult to notice. And noticing is our real work, isn’t it? The being awake and aware to those signs that can be right before our eyes and yet so easily ignored.

On my kitchen table I have just such a sign. Resting in various vases and glasses,  narcissus bulbs are sitting on stones and water. Very early in the time when I placed them there, the bulbs began to put forth roots and the green shoots began reaching upward. I watch them several times a day and notice their growth, sometimes it seems I might be able to sit and see the growth happening. It seems miraculous to me. This message of hope and beauty and the infinite goodness of nature is a wordless affirmation. It says to me: Even in what perhaps promises to be a cold, difficult and uncertain winter, beauty is still emerging. It is a message. It is a sign.

And I am deeply grateful.