Signs

Those living out their teen years in the 60s and 70s will likely remember the hit song by The Five Man Electrical Band, “Signs.” Les Emmerson, lead singer, reportedly penned the words after a road trip on Route 66 in California. In essence, it was a protest against billboards planted along the freeway and signs touting “do this, don’t do that” rules and regulations. To say the song challenged current culture would be an understatement.

But is there value in signs? As a trail runner, I appreciate a well-placed sign that informs me of distance covered and distance that has yet to be conquered. Even when the news makes me hang my head at the enormous effort it will take, there is some level of comfort in knowing what to expect. Knowing lets me calculate time remaining, helps me manage fluid and calorie intake, and puts into perspective the additional effort needed to accomplish the task.

Similarly, signs can be valuable on a trip down the highway. I can gauge when and where to fill up the car or conversely, empty the bladder. If I get hungry, a sign tells me that food can be had at an exit 20 miles down the road. If a sudden storm identifies the need for replacement windshield wipers, a sign is likely to identify a Walmart. And of course, regarding speed limit signs as regulations rather than mere suggestions can save me from a ticket.

Are signs ever counter-productive or confusing? You bet they are! When a sign reads, GENUINE FAKE WATCHES, is that a good thing
or not? Or what about when a sign that instructs us to take opposite actions: STOP HERE. KEEP MOVING? Or, what if I am asked to perform a task that I am logistically unable to do given my circumstances. Hum. Perplexing, to say the least.

So, how do we deal with all these printed signs and directives? Do all signs hold the same level of importance? I don’t think so. 

Consider the other night when on a mountain run—at night—with a friend. The sign didn’t say travel on the trail was prohibited due to aggressive bear activity. We simply were not permitted to camp overnight. Since the sign was posted back in May when the bears were most active and there had been no trail talk of recent trouble, we proceeded as normal. I do not believe we were reckless or disobedient. What we were was prudent.

But why so much talk about signs? They are EVERYWHERE! We can’t escape them. Some can be vitally important to our safety and knowledge. And sure, some signs are silly and not thought out well. But here is the takeaway—at least for me. We must be discerning.

Discernment is a skill that needs to be honed in our daily lives far beyond reading signs. We need to consider what is not only true but expedient. What requires our attention and what does not. What edifies rather than is hurtful. We need to think about how our actions may set off a series of repercussions and consequences. We need to exhibit self-control and common sense. 

Signs or not, let discernment rule.