We started the day in the rain in Tulsa.  After a short ride on old Route  66, the four of us were cold, wet, and hungry.  This was the last Torches to be,  and four of us-Joe, Steve, Barr, and Myself had broken from the pack, which we  would hook up with again in Branson that night.  Joe was a local, and this was  our third Torches together, and the guy who Theresa had left in charge of me.  A  great guy to travel with, and we had each other's backs.  Steve I knew from CMA,  and Barr had just come back from Iraq, where he had spent the last 18 months  trying to build a police department in the Bath province.  Needless to say his  stories never were shown on network news, the war may have turned out better,  and after being with him, the war was somehow closer and realer than CNN led us  to believe.  Note-we were winning.  Joe was leading, despite the fact he had cut  off the mufflers on his Shadow, and we made him ride in the back the rest of the  way.  The noise was unbearable.  So through the steady downpour, we followed him  onto a gravel parking lot, uneven with lots of puddles, outnumbering the gravel  areas, and somehow found ground level enough, and secure enough to park our  bikes on.  He had mentioned he had never been here, but being a trucker noticed  it had a great lot to park in.  So the four of us, rain suits, helmets, and all  entered into the Hiway Cafe, in Vinita.  A small, cinder block building, in the  same shape as the parking lot, it was warm inside, and we were greeted by  Beverly, who had a coffee pot in each hand, telling us to sit just like we  parked, wherever we could.  A great sign as my co-riders run a 50-50 blend of  caffeine in their veins, and her smiling face, or was it the coffee pots,  brightened their day.  We took a corner booth, and laid our wet clothes out on  two tables nearby, the four of us equivalent to 40 pounds of sand in a five  pound back in that booth.  Being watched by two even bigger locals, 100 pounds  in a five pound bag, in a booth nearby.  Now I can't say this was a meal that I  would go out of my way to return for, but it was memorable none the less, as it  was just what, where, and when it was needed.  And even the locals opened up to  us, some vets, who thanked us for what we were doing.  Even showing pictures of  grandkids, and telling us stories about them.  We entered empty and cold-but we  left full and warm.  The timing was even perfect, we were leaving as the local  lunch crowd was pouring in, each one saying hello to Beverly, and sitting at  their regular station-somehow not giving orders, but somehow Beverly taking  them.  "My regular" or "the special" being the rule of the day.  In a town where  Clanton's was only two miles down the road, with much better food, God had given  us what we needed, and blessed us with it.  The meal we needed.  At a place not  my first choice, but the perfect place.  Goldilocks and friends would have  missed it, as it was "too" something for them, not realizing God is always  right, and right on time.
 Today your storm may not be as wet and wild as ours, but a storm none the  less to you.  And just like the disciples on the rough sea in the midst of a  storm, Jesus is on the way.  But you must first recognize Him, then invite Him  into your boat-your life, or situation.  And you will find He has the same  calming effect He did to the waves that day.  Or that morning.  You see He  walked on the waves, and into the boat-didn't rush, or push His way on board.   And when He does, the storm ceases, as He takes you through it.  The fifth rider  in our group that day.  The perfect answer, we sometimes forget to ask.  
 That morning, the food wasn't the best.  The ambiance was old newspapers,  and wet floors.  Beverly-just say she wasn't Florence Jean Castleberry from  Alice.  But the Hiway Cafe was the perfect place God wanted us, as we were  blessed, and also a blessing.  Manna in the form of bacon and eggs, with lots of  coffee.  Hospitality that overcame any uneven table or dirty fork. Where good  morning wasn't a description, but a blessing waiting to be bestowed on you.  And  what you left with.
 As you are getting ready to go out today, don't neglect the blessings  before you.  The cat you shoo away so she won't get fur on your sweater, or the  dog who wants to sit and wag her tail by you.  They are signs from God of His  love, a simpler type, a friendlier world, where disposition is more important  than position.  Where a waging tail is better than a wagging tongue.  And a  smile with greasy eggs, potatoes, and bacon beats no smile with gourmet quality  food.  
 Looking for Jesus-we weren't, but found Him that morning in a cafe in the  rain.  Doing what He does best-feeding His children.  We got hungry again later,  but the meal He fed our souls lasted all day, in fact three years later I still  recall it.  Looking for love in all the wrong places?  Try Jesus-in the midst of  your storm, the perfect meal for stomach and soul.  
 Don't forget to leave the tip.
 love with compassion,
 Mike
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