Monday, January 11, 2016

homeward through the haze







Mostly I have an aversion to Interstate Highways when traveling.  These 4 to 14 lane monsters get you there without the hint of a traffic light, and with only limited access.  Only over the past 10 years have the Los Angeles style traffic jams started to slow them down across the US of A, and it is possible to ride from LA to New York City without a traffic light.  That is unless you take I-68, a 116 mile freeway that goes through West Virginia and Maryland.  And which mostly shadows old US 40, or The National Road.  I rode US 40 one night, spending a cold September night in Frostburg, and yes, I woke up to frost on my Honda Nighthawk.  But such beauty and mountains, we often think we have to go through the Rockies to see real mountains, you need to ride West Virginia.  But one escape route from the tediousness of 40, is the freeway.  And looking to make time, I would eventually ride from Escondido to New Jersey in under 70 hours, I stayed on the freeways.  And I-68 was a choice to make, and I am glad I did.  Looking ahead it promised great views, and looking back a great ride, but while on it, I was truly scared for my life.
I have driven in fog for almost 45 years now, living in Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Colorado.  But that afternoon I was not prepared for the fog, a total white out.  The views before heading up the pass were awesome, and I had just taken off my riding suit after hundreds of miles in the rain.  The sun was bright, but as I ascended the hill, the sun dimmed through the haze.  Which soon became like riding in a cloud and I was soaked, and then totally blinded.  On my Sprint RS, I couldn’t see my hands, no lights from the instruments, and no headlight shining.  It happened so quick and I wasn’t prepared for it.  My last impressions were of a semi in the lane on my right, and a car on my left just behind me.  But what do you do when all of you are blinded at once?  How do you know what is ahead of you, next to you, or behind you?  Do you slow down hoping not to get run into, do you pull over hoping the lane is empty, or do you speed up to get out of it quicker?  Hoping you don’t rear end anyone?  First aid for such a situation is don’t panic in a panic situation, and I had one, we all did.  So I slowed gently to 45, or what felt like it, I couldn’t see the speedo, and kept praying.  I have never been so blinded.....or scared.  But calm.  And I cannot say how long the whiteout lasted, but as I felt the road start to descend, my first view was of that same semi right where I had last seen him, and the car on my left the same.  We had all made it through safely, together, and minutes later the sun so bright no one would have believed our experience.
I had told people for years to trust God, but never had an experience like this to remember.  Looking back, if Jesus could calm the waves, he surely cold guide us through.  But all of us at once, a bigger miracle than just guiding me.  He spoke to the semi, other cars in front, back, and aside of me, and took us through the blindness, taking me homeward through the haze. And some years later riding the road in bright sunlight, I was even more amazed, as the road curved as it rose, and descended.  I had not only been brought straight through, but through the curves too!  God guides where we need to go, not just straight and narrow!  He is in the curves too!
A few years later on a Torches Across America run, Frank left Shanksville with Theresa and I heading east.  Old US 30, another great road bypassing the Pennsylvania Turnpike, another road worth riding, we ran into a similar fog.  We put on our flashers as we entered it, not smart enough to stop or turn around, and we lost sight of each other.  I knew he was behind, later he stated he knew I was ahead, just couldn’t see me, and maintained his speed, slowing slightly.  A steep downhill followed, and just near the bottom a hard right hand turn, with 20 mph speed warning.  Which we saw just in time to instinctively slow down and make it.  But again, God had taken us through a white out, and brought us out safely.
Too often we think of darkness as blindness, but such a whiteness thick with clouds will do the same thing.  We don’t know how thick the fog is, but we enter anyway.  Psalm 37 tells us to trust God and  we will live in the land and prosper.  But as sojourners here on earth, travelers to our final destination, we need to trust him, and not just in the darkness of fog.  We knew what to do when we encountered the white out, I wonder how different it would have been if God was telling not to go that route? 
Fortunately God is not taken by surprise, and his spirit never leaves us.  He is there to guide us through the haze, in the dark, and surprisingly enough in the light of his love.  By that same light.  Sadly we mainly turn to him in times of trouble, but how neat to be guided by him?  Can you imagine the rides you have been missing by not?  But sure as we ride, he is with us.  His perfect plan for us with imperfections in it.  To us potential tragedies, to him part of the ride.  I easily could have cursed him instead of calling out to him, many times the first response when things don’t go my way, and would have missed the miracle ride he had for us.  I had no training for the foggy rides, only Jesus, and he was there.  Now I don’t know if the others were believers, or even prayed, but God’s grace is sufficient, even to non-believers.  Like the rain, the fog falls on the just and the unjust.  We all need Jesus...to lead us homeward through the haze.
Today your haze may not be one of a fog, but of a decision to make.  What to do, how to handle a situation, or not being prepared for one that lies ahead.  Nothing takes God by surprise, and when we call on him, he will guide us.  And even before we can call on him, he is ready.  It is us who falter.  It is said that just the other side of the clouds is the sun, and I learned that not only above but below too.  I may never meet those who rode through this with me, I can only imagine their version of it.  Mine gives God all the glory, no way my mind knew to function like that, or the semi drivers, or the other cars.  God had us under control.  A comforting thought when encountering darkness, no matter what shade of black or white.  Sometimes the all ways we are told to acknowledge him are limited by our thoughts, take time to thank him now for the good, and lean on him for the future.  None are so blind than those that cannot see, and I saw Jesus.  I knew he was there, my spirit told me, and I felt safe.  So I can honestly say Jesus rides a motorcycle, and can attest to his love for Triumphs and me.  That day as today, I need to lean on him more and more.  He knows the future, and is my future.  How I get there depends on him.  I can trust and obey, or resist, and suffer.
Obedience is better than sacrifice.  You make your own choice, I choose Jesus.  In the fog, in the mist, and in the whiteout, he was with me.  A light so bright it cannot be seen.  Only in your spirit can you know he is with you.  Not seeing is believing...we call it faith.  Ride by it today, and ride without worry.  How do you know where you are going when you lose sight?  Jesus knows....do you know him?
By the way, at the bottom is a traffic light, the only one on the Interstate System.  You never know what lies ahead.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com