On a recent trip to my hometown in Mount Vernon, Illinois, I saw this sign and remembered one of the nice things about living in the country was the acceptance of guns and the availability of ad hoc target practice locations. Why go to the trouble of driving all the way to a shooting range somewhere (like the one I drive by on the way to work every morning) and paying money when, as you can see, it is not uncommon to pull over beside the road, whip out the old six-shooter, and take target practice against a random, roadside sign when you get the urge? As far as I know, no one has been injured doing this, and the holes actually make the sign less likely to blow away in a windstorm or tornado.
I’ve been a practicing Christian my entire adult life, and one would think that would result in a certain level of proficiency in certain practices such as what often occurs when one plays golf, tennis, or does various other activities on a regular basis. Prayer is not like this for me though. Prayer is like whack-a-mole. As soon as I knock down a mole that pops up--some sort of obstacle to my praying--another mole rises in its place. "Whack-a-mole" is exactly how I would describe my prayer life, a daily whacking away at things that prevent prayer.