fill 'er up, part 1

My parents next door neighbor, Bill Del Nero, aka Willie, owned a service station with his brother Frank in the 60's and 70's. Notice I said service, not gas station, as these neighborhood stations not only provided gas, but had service bays to keep your car greased and oiled, to diagnose the noises you heard, and to do tune-ups. And a hangout for other gear heads on Saturday mornings. Work was performed on a personal basis, and it seemed everyone had one that they frequented. The Del Neros had a Gulf station, and they did pump a lot of gas, along with checking tire pressures, the oil, and washing the windshield.

One Sunday morning Willie called my dad. His Sunday afternoon guy would be out for a few hours, could I fill in from noon to 5? Sure, I was a freshman in high school, got mostly A's and B's,except for Miss Culhane, and was a starter on the basketball team. Plus it paid $10 for five hours of work. In this era of nickel candy bars, Twinkies for a nickel, comics for twelve cents, and Mad magazine for 35 cents-Cheap, I could live like a millionaire. And with no car or girlfriend, my money would be my own. Of course-and I was out the door.

Now a funny thing about experience is that you can't teach it. I had never pumped gas before, although I had often gotten 25 cents worth for my dad's mower, and had watched as my parents ordered $2 worth from the attendant. But never saw the oil checked-they were suspicious because pump jockeys were notorious for short sticking, and I think I might have seen him once check the air. And the closer I got to the service station, the more I realized I wasn't in ninth grade, and my grades didn't matter here. But the guy who was leaving was cool, gave me the key to the register, and he was off. Leaving me alone-I mean ALONE, to run the place. And it seems the bell signaling someone in the drive never stopped ringing. Fortunately all was done on a cash basis, but learning which side the filler was on, learning how to not have a digit removed from the license plate springing back on the filler located behind it, and washing the windows was easy. I even managed to check the oil on a few cars, all OK. But some dude threw me a curve when he asked me to check his trans fluid. DUH! So I pulled the dipstick by the trans-good thinking, and checked it like I did the oil. Full, he was ready to go, paid, and was off. It was later when my tortuous shift was over that I read in one of the magazines laying around you do it with the car running, and that there are two types. So I worried for two days, that this guy's tranny would blow up because I hadn't checked it right.

Willie paid the $10, thanked me and said I had done a good job. But for a few days I was afraid for a knock on the door from him. "There's a guy here whose transmission blew up from lack of fluid-he said you had checked it and it was OK." And there would go my $10, my reputation, and my chance to do it again. But I still had my A's and B's, and was a starter on the basketball team. And still had Miss Culhane for English.

Jesus tells us in Luke of some fisherman, who after fishing all night, and catching nothing, washed their nets and were going home-hungry and empty netted. When He suggested they throw their nets off the right side, they reluctantly did, and found them filled to overflowing-in fact it took three boats to take in the catch. But He was preparing these men-His disciples for catching something else, to be fishers of men. And they needed His training, for all the previous experience would not work with souls-only soles. And without the spirit guiding them, they would accomplish nothing. Experiences you can't teach, they must be experienced! But they had to follow the spirit-Jesus to do things they had never done before, and this took faith, and commitment. No more stories about the one that got away, or sleeping in on Sundays. It was personal with them, and their past did not prepare them for where they were going, and going to do. Like these fisherman, we too get stuck in a religion, when we need a relationship. Filling a pew, and stinking it up is a religion, where Jesus offers us a relationship. And it takes participation on our part, and choices to make. You say "I've been healthy all my life, I can't have cancer. We've been married 30 years, she can't leave me. I've worked here for 20 years, and am a manager, they can't let me go." Or "I've been a member of this church since I was a kid, I know all about God, even taught Sunday school. I don't need this Jesus thing." And you would be wrong! For experience doesn't prepare us for failure, or how to handle situations of the heart. You need to see the creator, and Jesus is the only way to His father! He can and will take you through cancer-restore a rocky marriage, and take care of you when you are jobless. And He wants to do it-personally. And like the fisherman, will show you the way-but only if you listen and trust Him.

Willie trusted me, and I hope I didn't let him down. Today let down your nets, let Jesus fill them, and watch as you do things, go places, and experience life like you never knew possible. A full service God in a self service world. I would call that a bargain.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

been there-done that, got the shirt to prove it

This is for all of you who, when came down dressed to go out, were greeted with "you're going out in that?" And to those who are so used to hearing " I wouldn't be caught dead in that outfit." This is dedicated to those of you forced to wear a tie, and actually thinking it makes you look good. Reality check. And to those of you with over 100 t-shirts in your closet, but have nothing to wear to the next rally, so go out and buy another. Remember these condescending words always come from someone who loves us, but can't believe we are so vainfully ignorant of the proper shoes to go with the right purse. Please, what color doesn't go with denim? Or black leather?

To those of you, who like my friend Mark, believe there are only two colors a leather jacket can be, both black-help is on the way. Not in your wardrobe, but how to handle these vanity laden, socially ignorant, non-biker types. To those of you who think Von Dutch is a clothing company, and don't realize he is the father of custom painting. Real name Kenny Howard. And don't realize Hollister is the home of the American biker, not another clothing line. Posers-pay attention, you may learn something.

The last two years of Torches Across America I was the spokesman. And we always started from Kennedy's Custom Cycle in Oceanside, and Mayor Jim Woods came out and saw us off. The first year, he showed up in a three piece suit. Fit right in, just not with bikers. If we painted him pink he would not have stuck out more. When I introduced him, I commented on his outfit, and how the only three piece suits most bikers see are when they are in court, and the trust factor may be more tolerant if he didn't wear one. He laughed with us, knowing it was in good humor, and removed his tie. We all laughed, and Jim felt more at ease.

The next year, he comes up to me at the send off wearing a Hawaiian shirt, with his expensive slacks. "Look Mike, I'm not wearing a tie!" We all laughed as we told him his taste was getting better, and we were glad he made the effort to associate with us. Later on the trip, we are in Cambridge, Ohio, great town and people. The mayor, comes out, in a three piece suit. And while standing next to me, I tell the story of Mayor Jim. And the crowd starts laughing. Now my jokes weren't that funny, and my fly wasn't open, so I looked to see why they were laughing. And the mayor, had taken off his tie and sport coat, and put on his leather vest-he was a biker too!

And finally on that same ride, we were in Shanksville at the Chapel for the fifth anniversary of Flight 93 and 9-11. We had just finished the ceremony with the lieutenant governor of Pennsylvania, when she steps out of the crowd and pokes me in the chest. "Hey, I'm one of you, my husband and I both ride Harleys!" And suddenly her uniform and badges didn't matter, she was a biker. She was one of us. And all of us bikers, most of the crowd at that point started visiting with her, openly and informally, while mixing with her bodyguards too. No pressure, they felt safe in a crowd of bikers, leather, denim, and t-shirts, and all.

There is a freedom not found in the law that allows us to be who we want to be, and better yet can be. Only in Jesus is this freedom found, and sadly not in some churches. I have been pointed to the back row before because of my leather jacket. But why, does Mrs. So and So sit up front in her Gucci leather? My t-shirt may not have a religious message, so why do I get secondary seats? Have you seen the price of biker shirts lately? They ain't cheap. Perhaps the lesson here is not to prejudge people. Not a new problem, people in Jesus time did it too, and He warned them about giving priorities to the better dressed, or monied people. He also warned that these were the men who took you court and sued you. See, I was quoting scripture to Mayor Jim. Trendiness has a price, in that styles change, but Jesus never does. Better than leather and denim, He has been in style for 2000 years. Love never changes-is that cool or what? And is not impressed by what you wear, but about your heart. That no clothes can cover, we all see through them. Can you imagine Mary or Joseph confronting Jesus, "you going out in that tunic?" What will the Pharisees say? And His answer, "I'm wearing another cloak over it, in case someone needs it." He is so cool. You see real style comes in what are actions, attitudes, and words say about Jesus. A light that you cannot put under a cover-whether it is silk or leather. Clothes don't make the man-Jesus does. An idea to remember next time you consider your clothes for the evening.

Who are you trying to impress? Pride can be subtle. If you see me, impress me with your love for others. Maybe even be nice, ask where did I get the new t-shirt? And don't look down at those who aren't dressed as well. You see knowing Jesus makes you cool, and no outfit, regardless of the label can change that. Check your pride at the door.

"You going out in that? To church?" Yes, and it's the love of Christ that we wish to display. So wear Him everywhere. Openly. Never out of style, nor condescending, nor expensive. He fits any and every occasion. Freedom from style. A life style.

Don't even get me started about Von Dutch shirts or torn jeans for the fashion conscious. Again, bikers have been in style for years, we were just too cool to comment. You wouldn't have gotten the message anyway. But don't ever miss the chance to make a statement about the love of Christ. Just might find you are starting another trend-love. Let me know when the shirts are available.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

weight is the enemy

You may not know or even have heard the name Raymond Loewy, but I'll bet you have had contact with him. As the premier industrial designer of the twentieth century, he brought form to anything from mimeograph machines, to locomotives, to Studebakers. But his crowning achievement is his design for the Coca Cola bottle and its famous shape-he was the one who designed it-a trade marked design that has lasted over 80 years. A design that he made identifiable with the female shape, both shapes being more form than function. Among his trade mark designs are Shell gasoline and the Lucky Strike logo. Furniture, houses, even appliances bear his mark. His mark is recognized in cars, trains, and busses also. And among classic car hobbyists he is best remembered for the 1953 Studebakers, the Loewy coupes as they are still referred to today, and the Avanti, which was designed over a long weekend in Palm Springs by a crack crew of designers under his supervision. A design that still continues today, as a small company still produces Avantis in limited number. Loewy was very creative, but also as an engineer knew the physical properties of good design. On his desk was a plaque that read "WEIGHT IS THE ENEMY!" And he preached this to all his designers. And it still is today.

It is rumored that when Ford came out with their new Thunderbird in 1989, it exceeded the target weight, and men were fired. Weight means money, which takes bigger engines to get the same performance, which means more emissions-too much weight=less performance, and a higher cost. Ask a production manager, he understands. Ask Mercedes Benz and their race team back in the 30's. They got the nickname Silver Arrow because they removed all the paint from the car to lose weight, leaving only the shiny aluminum skin. Ever hear of a race car wanting to add weight because it was too fast or light? If you think paint doesn't weigh much, pick up a gallon. Help, please? In an industry where weight is measured in ounces, weight loss in pounds is a lot.

A motorcycle test was run in 1983 using a 1983 Honda 650 Nighthawk. The purpose was to show how weight impacted performance. Taking the same bike, but using two test riders, one at 150 pounds, the other at 276. Both pros, but the heavier rider took more than a half second longer, at a slower speed to get through the quarter mile. Ride a dresser, then a sport bike. Which is faster, nimbler, and brakes better? Weight is the enemy. Just ask any Gold Wing rider who has dropped his bike. Or how on a smaller bike because they can control the weight they might not have, so they didn't have to find help picking it up after.

Today we are deluged with ads about being overweight. So we spend billions on exercise equipment, special diets, and club memberships to make us look better. But do little to remove the weight we carry internally. And no matter the physical shape, your spiritual shape matters more. Jesus, that old yoke builder, who just happened to be the messiah, put it simply when he said "take my yoke for it is easy." You see we carry burdens in our harts, that they were not designed to carry. Stress, fear, sin, and lust-all have no place in our hearts-they only cause heart disease and lessen the quality of life. So take the advice of one who can help, Jesus. Burdened by too much house payment-give Him your burden. A family relationship falling apart-He'll take it. Unemployed, or worse yet under employed? He will take the weight in each and all situations. You see weight-the burden of sin is truly the enemy-and only through God's grace and forgiveness can you lose this weight.

Has the word diet shown up in your spiritual intake lately? Have you asked God to help you shed the weight of sin, and the burden it causes? Don't start tomorrow, right now is the day of salvation. Shed the weight, and find how it effects you physically too. You see we all suffered from heart disease until we came to Christ-we had the weight of sin on our hearts. And using no surgery, pills, exercises, or equipment He removed it. So what are you weighting for?

Take the example of Raymond Loewy-WEIGHT IS THE ENEMY! In all his designs he chose to leave a high visual retention-you would remember the product. Practice what any first year engineering student is taught, and what Jesus knew about 2000 years ago. But don't let WAIT be your enemy. Let Him make a strong spiritual retention in your life-an eternal one! Seek Jesus now! Weight to go! Way to go!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

unto thee is given...

I know they didn't invent it or start it, but I blame Hallmark anyway for perpetuating it. It being the endless stream of useless holidays, and inane celebrations. Those days which mean nothing to nobody, but yet Hallmark reminds you to send them a card. But the ones I really hate are the ones that have a "shower" attached to them, with the worst being a house warming or apartment warming-because of the gifts you receive. And perhaps the worst gift ever invented, then given, and never used, has to be the toaster oven.

We all have had one somewhere along the line, and is nothing we would buy for ourselves-but yet feel the need to inflict this painful device on someone else. It neither toasts, nor ovens, and the last one I had was a real exercise in futility. With no gauges or lights, you guessed when your toast was done, or more familiarly you waited for the burnt toast odor. And I can remember when Andrew liked the frozen mini-pizzas for about a week, you never knew when it had reached the set temp, and either had a hard, semi-frozen mess, or it was burnt-see toaster results. The perfect gift to take up precious counter space, that seemed to be standard in every home 30 years ago, but no one ever claimed to use, or have used. And one day we had finally had enough-and fought back.

After years of putting up with this space robbing, toast burning, annoying device, we fought back. Rather than just throw it away, we took it into the back yard, and we each took turns beating it with an ax! Until it was pieces of broken glass and twisted metal. And felt better relieving our home of this curse! And got renewed encouragement of our convictions when the next door neighbor, who had been watching from his kitchen window yelled "hit it for me too, I have one of those *$^#@^ things too!" And a tradition was started, and whenever a toaster didn't, or can opener wouldn't, out came the ax. But never, no never was there ever another toaster oven. One to a family... the curse was over. And to whoever gave us the one we had-I hope you receive one yourself, and soon-the gift that keeps annoying, and annoying...

But all gifts are not useless, many have forethought, which sometimes might not be evident at their giving. When Jesus was born some 2000 years ago, fortunately they didn't have toaster ovens. But the wise men-note-there weren't three of them, woe to those of you getting history from a song-brought some unusual and expensive gifts for a child that was born in a feeding trough, in a cave, to a couple of teenagers. Gold, frankincense, and myrrh-now why would a child want these, and what would be their purpose? But God, as Jesus' father, knew exactly what His child would need, and who He was and would grow up to be, and when taking that into consideration, it all becomes clear. Gold represented the fact that Jesus was a King-King of the Jews, but also King of Kings. What better gift for a king! The frankincense represented the fact that He was our high priest, and was the precious aroma of love and honor unto God, his father. Both those would be understandable, and welcome-who doesn't want their child to grow up and become successful? But the myrrh, why? That was for embalming and preparing the dead for burial. Why give a newborn this gift? There again God knew-just like John3:16 tells us. He sent His son to die in our place and save the world from its sin. A baby dressed in swaddling clothes-strips of cloth used to wrap the dead, and then the gift of myrrh-predicting the reason why Jesus came to earth. The perfect gift from a loving Father, via a loving son, to a lost and dying world. A statement that no card, Hallmark or other could ever fully represent, but faithfully remembered in the gospels. A simple statement of love.

But it is a gift, and Jesus must be accepted to receive its fullness. And it starts with a decision to let Him into your life. And to celebrate Him through your new life-everyday. No need to wait for Easter or Christmas-you can enjoy Him everyday! And the gifts that He showers on you via His spirit as you walk in His love and truth. Grace He calls it, along with mercy. And it is new every morning-which is good because I seem to use up all the mercy from yesterday! And I need more today!

Jesus Christ-the hallmark of the church-spend time with Him today! The gift that keeps on giving-and don't expect any toaster ovens! The only showers you can expect from Him are showers of joy! And who couldn't use a little more counter space in their lives-for love?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

did they ever call Him Little Joe?

I have always liked Albuquerque. The largest city in the Land of Enchantment, it still has a small town atmosphere to it, just like it did 35 years ago when I first moved there. When you talked of motorcycle shops you knew them by their name, but referred to them by who owned them. Gary Guynes owned the newer Kawasaki shop on Juan Tabo. Bobby J, well simple enough, still in business today as Bobby J's Yamaha. The Bodwells owned Motorsport, where I worked as my first job in Albuquerque, and Jake Alcon was the Harley dealer. And for Laverda, and or BSA/Triumph, there was Joe Turney on Lomas, although everyone knew Mary ran the shop. Henry and Ilse Rissman owned the Guzzi shop on north 4th open on Sundays, a rare treat, as all others except for Motorsport kept the traditional closed on Sunday and Monday schedule.

And when you wanted a Suzuki, you would call David at Motorsport. Which is how I had my second contact with the Unser family. The first was through Cindy, Bobby's daughter, who hung out with a group of friends that worked at Montgomery Plaza. But before he was Little Al, he was just Al Unser, Jr., and I sold him his first dirt bike-a 1976 Suzuki RM125. He had called David, and David let me handle the transaction, with him and Al, Sr. Nice people, legends already, and although they had more Indies to win, they were a normal father and son. Albuquerque citizens, who happened to ride-and race. I wonder sometimes how hard it must be to come from a famous family, or one where everybody knows your name. Like Cheers, but on a racing circuit schedule, where winning was everything. Just mention the name Unser in Albuquerque today, and they know who you are talking about-even have a street named after them.

We find a young Jesus, in His early teen years, faced with the same dilemma. He was hanging out in the synagogues, learning and commenting on scripture, with the priests, when they were amazed at His knowledge. "How can Joe the carpenter's kid know so much? His dad is just a yoke builder." Little being said about his real father, or even His birth. Just Joe's kid. Just like Little Al was Big Al's kid. Both with a family lineage the locals could attest to. And we find the Unser legacy going back to Little Al's grandfather, who also was a racing legend, a Pikes Peak hero and record setter. Three generations of Unsers-35 years ago.

Going through the family Bible I got from my grandmother, it has the birth and death records. Just a few short generations ago, the Bible was used for such records, and was taken to be a legal document for them. You could trace genealogies back as far as they were recorded, just by reading the family Bible. And in that Bible, you could also trace the unique genealogies of Joe's kid, Jesus. Through both Mary and him. And they are the most unique genealogies in the world. For when Nero was emperor, he burned Rome, and along with it the libraries and legal records. All records and histories of anyone born before the fire were lost forever, with only the lineage of Jesus of Nazareth remaining, in the Word of God, aka the Bible. A lineage that shows that no one else can prove they go back to King David, or Adam, or anyone in between, but has the royal lineage that scripture foretold of, and that Jesus fulfilled. Josephus and other historians can account for His life via dates and events-but only the Bible takes into account His family lineage. Something to consider next time you decide to step over the long list of begats when reading through the Bible. God put them there for a reason-more proof of the uniqueness of His only, begotten son.

Joe's kid, the carpenter-but much more. And we can be also, when we choose Jesus in our lives. We become adopted sons and daughters-with full inheritance and full riches and glory. We can call God daddy, just like Jesus used to. He wants it that personal. Abba father. And the same heavenly rewards.

Jesus Christ-son of God! King of Kings! And the only man on earth who could ever prove His lineage back to Adam. Wouldn't it make sense to trace your lineage to Him? Who do you say he is? Your answer is a family affair-God's family. Hope I can call you brother-or sister! And yes, you can call Him DAD!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

you meet the nicest people at second service

It's springtime, when a young man's fancy turns to love... and all men's fancy turns to motorcycles. And after a long winter, the first warm days, and fresh smells remind us that the wait hopefully was worth it. And as we anticipate riding again, reflect on the stories and ads we read all winter to fend off the blues. With that, let's reflect on the spring of 1972, and see why this was a particularly exciting time to be in love.

The Brits were down to Triumph and Norton. BSA, once the best selling bike in the world, had merged with Triumph, and when the Rocket 3 failed to sell, bet their future on Triumph and the Trident. Essentially a 500 Daytona engine and a half, they were fast, handled great, but were expensive-more than $400 more than the competition. And with the right hand shift, put many a Jap bike rider on edge, or over the handlebars when they stabbed what they thought to be the rear brake, and found the shifter. Ask the driver of the car whose trunk I landed on, it also wasn't good for PR. Your other choice was Norton, and if you had the guts, went with a Commando with the Combat motor. Shifting one up, the rest down, again adding excitement, as if their bikes weren't exciting enough. And fast!

BMW was in the third year of their redesigned line, featuring 500-600-750cc bikes, engine displacement the only difference, and the performance that goes with it. And new this year were chrome panels on the gas tank, earning it the title of Toaster-not affectionately either. Add shaft drive, an unusual opposed twin motor, and keyless starting-you stuck a rod or anything else in the hole on the headlight and it would start. But with shaft drive, the Cadillac of bikes-when Cadillac meant something. British what? No Bavarian-poser.

But this was the era, a golden era of Japanese bikes, as the big four were bursting with ideas, styling and performance. Honda was still the king, with its CB750, 4 cylinders, disc brake, electric start, and handling-things only found on a racer just few years ago, all for under $1600-the bike that broke the Trident's heart. Kawasaki was fielding triples-the Mach I 500cc, fastest thing on two wheels, until its big brother, the 750cc Mach IV came along. Both were three cylinder, 2 strokes-ring a ding ding! Fast, noisy, with no handling at all, but from 0-100 gave you the thrill of your life. And at $995 for the Mach III, you could be riding the quickest bike for less money! The Wildman had one-get yours now before they are gone. And soon they would be, as two strokes were going away, and next year Kawasaki would turn the motorcycle world on its ear with the Z-1! 903cc's! But you have to wait till next year.

Suzuki also had a three cylinder 750, but it was water cooled, the first mass produced bike to do so. And also was a 2-stroke. With its finless motor, radiator, and low rumble-not quite a ring a ding ding, it was fast, smooth, and comfortable. And advertised as a touring bike, no less. The aptly named Water Buffalo would last until 1976, when Suzuki also set the motorcycle world on its ear with a new 4-stroke 750, which was almost as fast as the original Z-1! What an exciting time! And lastly Yamaha fielded a 650cc twin, a copy of a BSA/ Triumph. That would go onto fame in flat track racing, and today has a collector appeal of its own. And finally AMF/Harley Davidson-yup, you read it right. coming off a year where they sold out of the first factory custom, the Sportster was still their fast bike-and for the real men in the group it came kick start only if you so desired. But for the true biker, the 74 was the way to go. Don't know that model? Hint-74 cubic inches, or 1200cc. Biggest, most macho ride you could own! From the company that sells bowling balls and diving gear. But-they would be back. And check out what a used Harley 74 is worth today-your $2000 investment in that would be better than gold-and more fun! Yes, after a long winter, anyone with less than $2000 could explore any of their pent up dreams. Maybe they should rewrite the old saying-we know what we really looked for come spring-then and now.

1972 was also a year in which the Jesus Movement was still gathering speed. Starting in the late 60's, as God's response to the hippie/free love movement, it found a following all over the country, but particularly in Costa Mesa, California, where Chuck Smith, a pastor for 17 years in a mainline denomination, followed God's calling instead of a denomination's, and took over Calvary Chapel. Taking God's advice, and teaching through the Bible, verse by verse, thousands of hippies, bikers, and other outcasts found the true love of Jesus Christ. And at a time when the Viet Nam War was tearing the US apart, Jesus was bring them together via His holy spirit. A new found freedom was found in Jesus, where no drugs, or even motorcycles could take you. Long hair-ok. No suits or ties-come as you are. Music-well the hymns are ok, but a whole generation started to worship Jesus using their music-more personal, and above all-NO RULES! Follow Jesus, using the Bible, and watch as your heart changed. And your old bad habits went away. And hearts did, and where mainline churches were in decline, the Jesus movement filled churches-Calvary Chapel Costa Mesa still runs three Sunday morning services of 3000+! Bob Dylan had sung "The times they are a changin'" but it was really hearts that were. And that same Jesus is still available today-right now in fact! Bummed out, confused? Jesus is the answer. Lonely-you'll never have a better friend. Freaky? He'll transform your heart, and your life. You see long before the toy, or the movie-Jesus was and is the original transformer. Even talks about it in Romans!

Jesus took a generation without hope, and changed it. Look around, couldn't we all use a little hope?

Today a 1972 CB750 can run you several times more than it originally cost new. Try to find a Mach III or IV-better investment than gold. BMW still stands for broke my wallet. Technology-no. Memories-yes. And Jesus Christ. Still the same. He paid the price for your soul, all you have to do is give Him your life. You see all I had to offer Him,was my brokenness and strife-and He made something beautiful out of my life.

Still ridin'-and still ridin' with Jesus. It just don't get any better! And the Jesus movement is still alive and well. Jesus Christ-the same yesterday, today, and forever. Some things should change-like your old Honda. Aren't you glad He is the same? Perfection, in any generation...ours!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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...where at least I know I'm free...

Bert Parks is legendary for singing "here she comes, Miss America..." in reference to a woman. But in recent days, due to world and national events, I find I MISS AMERICA! And I don't want too-I want her back!

You see, I remember as a kid Memorial Day parades, with old ladies and men selling poppies, in memory of those who died in battle. I remember old soldiers, marching at the end of the parade, but never knew the price they and there fellow servicemen paid. Men with stories to tell, to encourage and remind us of the horrors of war-and the price of freedom.

I remember growing up, and opening the school day with a Bible reading, a prayer, the Pledge of Allegiance, and then singing a patriotic song. And being told at an early age, you too can grow up to be president some day. And how you were reminded if you worked hard, got good grades, and lived a moral life, you too could exceed your potential and your dreams in life. You too could be president!

Then I remember Viet Nam, and being 364 out of 365 in the lottery. I remember friends who went over, and had friends who never came back. I remember my friend Frank, a pacifist put into infantry, when asked if he ever killed anyone, saying "no one I ever met." And I can remember the dishonorable end to the war, and men and women who fought to preserve liberty at all costs, being blamed for a loss which they didn't incur, but were sacrificed by politicians with no morals, and definitely no courage. Men who gave it all, and even sadder those who went off, were lost and never found. Over 1800 in Nam, added to the over 73,000 in WWII, lest we forget. Over 75,000 families shaken to the core of never knowing their loved one's outcome. And I started to miss America, land that I love. And I began to lose hope in my America.

My hope was renewed by President Reagan-whose definition of the Cold War was "we win-you lose." Who made us feel good again to be Americans, and remember that when God shed His grace on thee, it was a gift and responsibility that He gave us to share with others. And that leadership came from character, not opinion polls. And character was how we reacted under pressure, and when we thought no one was watching. Once again reminding me that as an American we owe a debt of gratitude to the Lord, and need to share it with others-no matter of color, creed, race, or nationality. That freedom demands sacrifice, and of the thousands who gave their lives in that belief.

I remember riding Torches Across America, and meeting so many who fought for our freedom. And riding into Troy, Illinois, escorted through Cub Scouts waving American flags, and thanking God through my tears for this country. And being in awe, that people still did care, and how the news was lying to us. Americans were blessing God! As I went to Shanksville the first time, and watched a man step out of the crowd one 9-11 morning, and spontaneously sing the National Anthem, we all sang along, and how it felt good to be an American. And remembering the 40 heroes on Flight 93, people I have gotten to know because I have met their families, and laughed and cried with them. Americans called into battle that morning, who rose to the challenge and defeated evil. Some who gave all. I think of my dear friend Father Al, keeper of the Flight 93 Memorial Chapel, and how the vision God gave him still brings hope to so many who are hurting and confused, who are drawn to the Chapel and receive healing and are consoled by a loving God.

I remember on the fifth anniversary of 9-11, waiting in a tent designed for 250 people, how 500 of us huddled inside it in the rain, waiting patiently for the families to arrive. And when they did, how the Northstar Kids burst into song, and we all sang along, with tears running down our faces "I'm proud to be an American, where at least I know I'm free..."

And yesterday while at the Travelling Wall, which is so much more than a replica of the Wall in Washington, it became very personal, and moving to me. And I got an insight to the pain and loss that many have suffered, those who have lost ones-heroes who died in battle. There on a plaque, under those lost in Afghanistan, was Captain Joshua C. Meadows-September 5, 2009. And it became personal, as I know his family. Not well, they are friends of Theresa and Kelly-Riley's parents, and how we tried to console them when they got the news. And when I think of his wife Angela, and I see the pictures of his new daughter, Olivia, pictures he never got to see, I am reminded of how all gave some, but some gave all. I now knew a some, and that made a difference. Now it's personal.

Years ago at a Hollister Rally, the Wall was there, and as Theresa and I sat on benches in front of it, God put on our hearts to listen and pray. A man came up, and took me over to the wall, and showed me his friend's name. Then shared precious memories of him with me. A man I never met, now was my friend, and I felt his loss, for his friend now was mine also. And as we talked through the tears, I remembered a battle 2000 years ago. In which the enemy thought he had won. And for an instance, all hope was gone. But when they checked the tomb, it was empty. For our Lord Jesus had defeated death. And I thought of Jesus, and how victory-freedom-was won that day on the cross. And how knowing Him is personal, and someday when we get to heaven every tear will be wiped away. And as I held this man in my arms, all I could do was listen, hug, and weep with him. Just like Jesus does for us.

Today the battle you face may not be life threatening, but Jesus gave His life to give you life. But you need to ask Him in. An old soldier reminded me yesterday when he saw my John3:16 shirt of how those words, along with his mothers prayers, got him and his friends through the battles in the Pacific. And how Jesus Christ made a difference in his life then, and still does now. 25 words-the gospel, so simple any man can be given eternal life. "For God so loved the world that He gave His only son, that whoever believes in Him shall have eternal life and never perish."

My heartfelt thanks to the many who gave some, and my condolences to those and their families who gave all. I am so glad I have given my life to Jesus, who still continues to give all-who defeated sin and death, in a battle we still remember every day. God bless America! America-Bless God! Let's pray!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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