Signs, signs

I’ve never been one to have signs in my yard. No “Welcome Spring!” flag; no ads for my political candidates of choice. They seemed tacky to me, like clutter right out front where everyone can see. And they felt like oversharing: Why does some person driving by care who I’m voting for? Without knowing me, what is that recommendation even worth?

Now it’s different. I have this sign in my yard:

And as this NPR story explains, so do many of my neighbors. And the sign, which I wouldn’t have thought to have, would have rejected as clutter a year ago, now seems important. So important that a couple of weeks ago, neighbors from the local Islamic Society stopped by with thank-you gifts, grateful for a message of acceptance.

I’ve never been one to wear a graphic t-shirt either.  In fact, my stance has been “When the aliens come, they’re going to place a lot of significance in these words we have on our shirts. What will they think we mean by Adidas or Coke?” But now things are different. I wear my slogan shirts to make what little statement I can: “A Woman’s Place is in the Resistance.” “Girls Just Want to Have Fundamental Rights.” What does a shirt do? Nothing, except leave no doubt in your mind whether I am a feminist or not.

And so now, blogging on matters of Christian faith and discernment, I feel the same desire to put up signs as I do in my front yard. The signs don’t do much in concrete terms, but they clarify: this isn’t that kind of place or that kind of person.  And so, the “yard signs” of this blog: