For a couple of weeks on my way into work I would drive under an overpass where a man stood in the sun, wind and rain holding a blue sign that said "JESUS" in white letters. If the sign had said Mariners, or Packers maybe the reaction would have been different. People would have likely honked or waved. Pretty much everyone just ignored the poor fellow. One day, from the car in front of me, a hand shot up through the sun roof with a single finger extended, but not to say, "you're number one." That was a little different. Then one day, he wasn't there anymore.
During election season the overpass is consistently populated with sign toting locals. When the Jesus sign first appeared, I joked to myself, "I didn't even know he was running for political office." I expect the election sign folks to fade quickly and don't miss them when they go. I had come to count on the blue sign that wasn't asking me to do anything, just saying, "Jesus." No great vision had come, no deeper meaning, but in a life where we all take comfort from predictability in all kinds of things, I was bothered when I didn't see the blue sign anymore.
I don't expect to see the blue sign anymore, but I do look every time I drive by and wonder where Jesus went. If I see him, I'll let you know.