I always knew that I would just meet someone, fall in love, and get
married-and live happily ever after. And so I did, and so I have. When I met
Theresa I knew she was the one for me, and with only 1000 miles between us, we
fell in love, she moved to Albuquerque, and we got married, all within four
months. But our whirlwind romance wasn’t over yet, as within another few months
we moved to Durango, Colorado. We had never been there, but urged on by close
friends who were moving there, we loaded up the truck and we moved to the
mountains, unknown territory for both of us, she of the beach, and me still
under the influence of New Jersey, although the symptoms were fading. Durango
in the 70’s was a far cry from what it is today, but the town of my Jimmy
Stewart dreams, a small town, with a great down town, a college on the hill, and
secluded from the real world. A town described on t-shirts as “Durango is what
America was,” and we bought into that, today knowing Durango was what America
was. But a town of dichotomies, a town so beautiful, with air so clean, that
the EPA had to recheck its machines because the air was so clear, but yet a
tailings pile south of town was aglow, another t-shirt read “Duranglo,
Coloradiation.” A town of families, small businesses, and many churches, yet
the sign on the new high school proudly announced in huge letters “GO DEMONS!”
And this was the Durango we moved to in June, 1978, with all of $11 to our
names, no jobs, and closest family 1000 miles away. Pioneers in the truest
sense of the word, we were young and didn’t know any better. Things we did then
we would counsel against now, but we had no counseling, so off we went...
I had made the comment that I would clean horse manure if that was what it
would take to live there, and God took me at my word. I worked at a gas
station, which also serviced Trailways buses, and you guessed it, dumped their
johns. A messy job, but like I said, I did, and we lived in Durango. Now among
the other more glamorous jobs was pumping gas, dealing with drunks, and changing
tires and fixing flats. All glamorous jobs to a 24 year old, but when it gets
cold, some days we didn’t see above zero, attitudes change like the weather.
But one fall afternoon, while changing a tire, the old fashioned way before the
modern machines we have today, I was breaking down a tire on a huge rim off of a
4x4. The machine was not set up for it, it was older than I was, but wouldn’t
give in, figuring no machine could outsmart me. One bead broken, one to go, and
while forcing it, the tire iron flew off, hitting me in the mouth. Instant
pain, and a stiff neck-whiplash, and knocking out two of my front teeth. Now
being the chicken I am, I could feel the space with my tongue where the teeth
used to be, but was afraid of looking in the mirror. So I went to the phone
book, remember them, found an Emergency Dentist, and got on my Z-1 and rode to
his office. Now I was sore, but was about to experience a whole new ball game
of pain. Like the man who gets burned after touching the plate of Mexican food
after being told it is hot, the dentist had told me to keep my mouth shut. At
40 mph, when I opened it I found our why-the pain went to my toes, and would
have gone farther if I had more height, but less brains. All the stories he had
warned me of were true, and I had learned a very important lesson about keeping
your mouth shut when told to.
But thanks to the miracle of a lot of Novacaine, I mean lots, he gave me
temporary fillings, caps, and I went back to work. Where the same guy was
waiting, upset because I hadn’t fixed his tire. I made one exception to keeping
mouth shut with him, he knew from my attitude it was best to go somewhere else,
anywhere else, and he did. And I kept my mouth shut for quite a while.
“Be still and know that I am God,” is great advice from the scriptures. I
wish I had heard that before that painful ride. But I do now, so offer no
excuses. Life can demonstrate the only argument you will ever win is the one
you aren’t involved in, many times actions will speak more of a massage than
your words. But opening your mouth, especially when told not to like I did can
have painful ramifications. But there are times you will be called upon to
speak, and God knows that too, so Jesus has promised to give you the words
needed when you are hauled before someone demanding answers. You don’t have to
worry, just trust God, the same message you are trying to convey with your
witness. And it is those times that the still voice, the calming voice of
Christ ministers to you, being heard despite all the background noise. And in
my case the pain. A voice so clear it is heard from within, and calms you,
instructs you, and guides you-you only have to obey. I marvel today at the
simplicity of the gospel, at how Billy Graham can say in 5 minutes more than
most overbearing preachers can say I an hour with more results. He is saying
what God gives him to say, He is just repeating it, he is only the messenger-the
message is the important thing. When I opened my mouth on the way to the
dentist, I had been told not to for my own good, and only I suffered for my
disobedience. But harsh words spoken when they shouldn’t have powerful
repercussions-if only we had listened instead of talking. But knowing God, He
has made it a choice of what to speak, when and where, and to whom. We can
control our speech, but not our listening, so we have no excuse, our words will
convict us either way. By being still and acting in obedience you are showing
He is God, not you. It is Jesus who changes hearts, not us. And it is Jesus
who we should represent, not our own agendas. It takes two to argue, and as the
voices escalate in volume, no one can hear because no one is listening. Are
you? What do your words say, do they say much in silence as do your actions?
Be still-and know WHO is God, and know God! When Jesus told us to him who has
an ear let him hear, He never spoke of speaking-just listening. And He never
spoke of speaking, except to repeat the words the spirit gives you, just to
preach the gospel-where our actions speak more than words. Who better than
Jesus would know that. Quick, what were His last words on the cross? You may
stumble to remember, but you never forget what He did. Actions speak louder
than words, they did 2000 years ago, and they do today. Are you
listening?
Many times I was told to be quiet in class for talking too much, I was
never scolded for listening. Be still, keep your mouth shut, and if possible,
avoid flying tire irons. Some people only open their mouths to change feet,
others are a 45 minute sentence. Jesus asks one question, “who do you say I
am?” If you have been listening you know. It should bring a smile to your
face-false teeth or not. For what the mouth speaks comes from the heart-maybe
your words tell us more than you want us or Facebook to know. So go with the
best advice from St. Francis of Assissi, “preach the word daily, when needed use
words.” Hugs optional. And yes, she still brings a smile to my heart
everyday.thet
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com
