Signage.

One thing that my weekly commute affords me is the time to notice signs along the highways I drive.  Most are forgettable enough, but one this morning made me think of two other signs that have stuck in my mind for the better part of a decade. 

This morning, I passed a Ramada Inn outside Giddings, and their sign read "You are in our prayers."  Insofar as I did not see it last week, I know it went up recently.  It is addressed to no one in particular.  I wonder what prompted this outward display of...what?  Faith?  Love?  Concern?  Does the motive even matter?  Of course not.  At 65 mph, its message is simple: Someone, somewhere is praying for you.  It reminds me of two other signs I've seen around Texas freeways.

The first (and second, actually) was a changeable roadwork sign.  It simply said "God bless you."  There's no commentary I can make on this.  Again, it's a simple message, just trying to bring a ray of hope or joy into some passing motorist's life.  The second, however, rattled around in my brainbox for weeks...really, still to this day.  It read "This Is Your Life."

My first thought was that is was a message of empowerment...this is your life.  Take control of it, make it yours, don't allow others to dictate what you think or feel.  Of course, being me, that optimism passed quickly and lead to an overwhelming sense of dread.  I was sitting in my car (at the time, my Altima with a broken turn signal and no AC).  On the freeway.  Stuck in rush hour traffic.  That sign was not empowering my to anything.  It was mocking me. 

"THIS is your life.  This, right here.  Traffic.  Smog.  Not moving forward.  Just look at me!  I sit here for a few days, send out a message that informs people of a construction zone, and then roll on to my next task.  I'm useful!  I'm changeable!  I'm not only solar powered, but look how slender I am!  What is that you're eating?  A doughnut?  Nice.  I'm out in the sunshine, and you're sitting in your car, eating a doughnut in traffic."

Once I finished accusing the sign of plagiarising L.A.Story, I then realized that I was having an argument with a highway sign.  It obviously couldn't hear me.  1) It's a sign, thus no auditory function, and 2) I was in the left lane, too far away to be heard (though with no AC, my windows were down). 

I have often seen both versions of that sign scroll across my mind at various points in my life.  Sometimes the sentence ends in a question mark, sometimes an exclamation point.  Who knows how it will look today, but having passed by the Ramada, it will undoubtedly be a little more hopeful.

You are in my prayers.