the times of His life

I was taught by my father, and his generation, that you worked hard, got an education, saved some money, and were good to others. So, the first thing I did when I was about to graduate high school, was go and buy my first new bike, a 1972 CB350 Honda, that I paid cash for, with the money I earned doing my paper route and had saved for years. All in one action I had fulfilled the advice given me, at least as I heard it, and had worked hard, graduated from high school, saved money, and now was being good to myself. I was a success at age 18, having fulfilled all his advice, not realizing this is not quite what he had in mind-particularly the motorcycle part.

So a new motorcycle it was going to be. I had studied it well, and from riding Bill's CL77, knew I was ready for the Honda. But as easy as the choice was, Honda outsold all other bikes combined, and their 350 series was their best seller, there were a lot of makes vying for my attention. Just listening to the names-many gone, brings back precious memories, and lusts and desires of the someday I will syndrome-but in many cases days that would never come. Or worse yet, days that should never have come.

The Spaniards sold Bultacos and Montesas. VIVA Montesa said their shirts. And Gary Bailey, even rode for Bultaco. Remember the Pursang, sold as the Barcelona missile? How about OSSA? Mick Andrews, world champion trials rider rode one. Harley even sold some smaller bikes imported from Italy, for the dirt, and sold them under the Baja name. I was with Mike Brannon when he crashed his. How things have changed! Triumph was still selling Bonnevilles, the old 650, and told us their bikes were "Hotter than ever!" But would still be gone in a few years. The competition hotter. In their street line AMF/Harley also used their #1 logo in red, white, and blue-the 1972 performers they were called, and reminded us "when you think of power, Sportster's on your mind!" 1000cc! With or without electric start! Only a real man would own one of them! Note-they also sold a 65cc two stroke mini-bike called the Shortster-Van had one. Kick start only.

BSA was reminding us that Dick Mann rode their bikes, and was #1 plate holder for the AMA. "Ride the winner," they told us, but only for a while, as there would be no 1973 BSA bikes for sale. Also gone was Gilera, for a few years now, and how many remember Gemini? Benelli tried to sell us "real machines," while Maico still was a name to reckon with off-road. Another Brit was about to go away, as Greeves was running out of breath, and sales, as was Yankee, Penton, Norton, Ariel, Jawa, Sears, Sachs, Puch, and countless others who had vied for our attention, and our hard earned dollars. Machines, that were here for a season, then gone, never to come back, except in our memories, and when reading old magazines. A golden age for motorcycling, not fully realized when it was here, like many other things we look back on with regret.

Golden ages-or the good ole days, are here again, if you know Jesus. How many of us talk about living in Jesus' time, or would have liked to know the Apostle Paul, or listened as John the Baptist told us of His coming? But God's plans are always perfect, and you were, and are at the exact time in history that God wants you. And that is fine with me-indoor plumbing and another golden era of motorcycle being two great reasons. But the most exciting is, we are living in a time when the promise of Jesus calling the church home-the rapture, as we call it, can happen any time, in our lifetime. And it seems ironic, how that the time of Jesus' ministry on earth intrigues us so much, that those in His day were desiring to see the rapture in theirs-and would love to have seen it happen to their generation! Ironic. I guess they will just have to be comfortable about watching it from heaven, and being in his presence for the past 2000 years. No indoor plumbing necessary, either. All that, and heaven too.

Today is the most exciting time to be a Christian, as we see everyday the promises of the Bible prophecies in our news. And maybe, we might be that last generation, and be taken up by the rapture, makes it even more exciting. But how many of us live with that expectation? How many are put off by the scoffers who question "where is His coming?" not realizing that He is patient to see them into salvation, that they may be the last one to be saved, and then let the rapture begin.

Do we live our lives, does our witness encourage others in this promise? Time is short, and it will happen, just like Jesus said. But unlike the countless motorcycle brands, who once were, but now aren't, the rapture will change the world forever, ushering in the anti-Christ, and then the day of the Lord. The worst seven years ever on earth, and you don't have to be here for it. Your choice. You see back in the day, some bought a dying brand, and got stuck with a machine that couldn't be fixed, because there were no parts or dealers. They invested badly, believing the ads, their friends, tradition, and the dealer-BSA will always be around, hey-Dick Mann is national champ. But today, sadly them and many others are only memories.

Choose Jesus today, the day of salvation, as tomorrow is promised to no man-Dick or others! Enjoy and live in the golden age of Christianity, and watch as Jesus Christ give life to your style. For 2000 the years the ads have been right on-He is just waiting for you. And unlike so many bike brands, He will return, just like He says. And your answer is....

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

timing changes-God never does!

In the April, 1972 issue of Modern Cycle, on page 29 is an article about "Timing a two stroke twin," featuring a 200cc Yamaha. And like any good how to article, it lists the tools needed. And listed among them, is a hammer and an impact screw driver, saying it is the best tool to use to remove the screws holding the cover on. Now to those of you who have never dealt with Jap bikes from the late 60's to the late 70's, you may not be aware of the curse of the Phillips head screws they used everywhere. Impossible to remove, and guaranteed to strip the head pattern, many a young man learned profanity while trying to remove them. And with each bike, came a pathetic tool kit. The first tool kit for many of us. A cheesy tool kit, and for sick reason they seemed quite proud of it, even putting them in a vinyl bag, and building little compartments for them on the bike, or hiding them under the seat. And we never quite understood why BMW, a more reliable machine, came with a better tool kit. If it is more reliable, why do you need better tools? No vice grips?

Included in these kits, were a double bladed shaft, Phillips one side and blade on the other, that came with a t-handle or regular handle-with either the handle turning, and not the blade, or buggering the Phillips head-either one guaranteed to screw up any screw. The spark plug wrench was a loose fit, and a boon to thread repair sales as replacing a spark plug was a given you would someday cross thread it, ruining the head. Lefty loosie-rightie expensive! The wrenches were not much better, of a soft metal that would bend, but not before rounding off the head of the drain plug. But my favorite were the pliers, which for some reason came in two pieces, with the screw to hold them together in the bottom of the bag. Such high quality demanded use of a hammer and impact driver, and if you didn't own one, made sure you had a friend who did. But this was much better than the previous fasteners used. Just think, setting timing with an impact driver and a hammer. And that's progress!

Prior to the Japanese invasion, the Americans used a standard sized wrench, 1/4, 5/16, 3/8, while the Brits used Whitworth, not quite metric, and not quite standard. And nothing else would fit their bikes, and occasionally they would slip in a standard sized bolt, just to make it interesting. But the Brits loved slotted screws, and as bad as a Phillips was, the slots were even worse. Either the slot was too big, or the screwdriver blade too small, ruining the head, and so you either ended up using a driver like the Japs, or drilling it out. Note-broken flat screwdriver blades also made great chisels. Perhaps this is why when the last person out of England making motorcycles, turned off the lights and said "screw it."

Audience participation time, if you will. Hold your hand out and wiggle it, turning it and admiring its design. And realize a few interesting things about it. One, it is the original design. Always has had five fingers. Never seven, or four-but five. With an opposing thumb. And the thumbs are on the inside on both hands, when looking at the back of your hands, so they are not interchangeable, in other words you can't order a left when you need a right. Universal appeal-comes in many colors, but only one style. It has amazing tensile qualities, able to pick up a needle, or a hammer. And they are waterproof-also gas, oil, and brake fluid proof. And for times you were stranded on the side of the road, the opposing thumb was perfect for hitching a ride. A wonderful design, over 6000 years old, with never an improvement or modification. Designed by a creator, the ultimate engineer, who didn't need an R and D department, or test mules-He got it right the first time. No prototypes needed. And as we see, only this type of perfection is found in God.

They also have the unique ability to feel pain, when hit with a hammer while trying to hit the impact driver, but will heal. They fit perfectly in any glove, providing the glove is the right size, and fit perfectly around a throttle. They can pull in the clutch, or squeeze the brake as needed, or wipe the bugs from your shield as you ride. A perfect device, multi-use, created by God. Just for you, whether you ride or not. A tough argument against evolution, for they were perfect to start with, and only found on man. And answering the age old question, which came first, God or the motorcycle. Now did you ever see a dolphin ride a motorcycle? How about a dog shift gears? Can a horse wrap his hoof around the throttle? You see, we were wonderfully made by God, in His image. With planned design and purpose. And from what I can tell, the above shows me He rode a motorcycle. The evidence is well, evident! And the only evolution in motorcycling should be a Harley motor, and is never found in man. If anything, the second law of thermodynamics shows that all things wear out, or atrophy over time-they don't get better. How many of us replace bikes because of mileage or because they are worn out? At 50,000 miles which is better, that one or a new bike? If it works for motorcycles, it must work for humans. Which is why evolution doesn't and can't work!

Your choice-would you rather follow man's ideas, which have brought us the slotted screw, only to improve it to a Phillips, and need a hammer and driver to set timing? Or trust God, who got it right the first time, who made you unique from all other beings, just because he loved you? If you believe you are descended from muck, next time you are out riding, visit your legacy and jump in a pond. Feel at home? Maybe a mud bog? Comfortable yet? Why not embrace the one who created you, and sent His son to prove His love.

And just to show that we still don't get it, on the new Triumphs the tool to remove the seat was put under the seat-with no way to get it. The fix-when this was pointed out to them, they moved the wrench behind a side cover. And made a note in the owners manual, which is under the seat. But you don't know where the wrench is until you remove the seat, to access the book, which tells you the tool is behind the side cover. Which you can't do-because you don't have the wrench? Only the government could design something like this!

Be safe-trust God's design. He also has one for your life. Perfection, which leaves more days to ride. He tells us today is the day of salvation, and if timing is everything, would you rather have it set by a loving God, or a hammer and driver? He wrote the manual-the Bible, and has all the tools, too. You know-you just have to hand it to God...

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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got yer motor runnin? part 1

Shortly before the Feds stepped in with noise ecology laws, and long before certain riders thought that an unmuffled exhaust sounded good, you could tell the sound of every bike by its exhaust note. These musical melodies played via your throttle hand, could not only tell what bike was coming, but the mood its rider was in. Harley riders could tell the difference between a knuckle, pan, or shovel head-and I could even tell an iron head Sporty. Even though the Brit bikes were basically twins, you could tell the BSA and Triumphs apart, and the Norton had a sound all its own. We all could tell the difference between a 750 and a 350 Honda-but the no brainer was the shrieking sound coming from Kawasaki's two strokes. Sounding like rocks in a can at idle, when WTO they would make a sound like a hive of angry bees. While all you could see was a glimpse of the rider's smile through his Bell helmet as he passed. Yes, motorcycles made happy sounds, because we were happy to be riding, enjoying the freedom of two wheels, and the wind in our face-not to mention the occasional bugs in our teeth. Each exhaust note a melody, played to perfection by its rider.

But the source of this music was the motor. The heart and soul of any cycle-take the world motor out and you can have a bicycle, unicycle, or like my son's HD baby suit said, "I'm here because my mom missed her cycle." And each motor was a work of art itself, a visible design, allowing you to readily identify the bike without looking at the tank, eye candy they would call it today. When my friend Guy sent me a forward last week, I couldn't get it open, until Theresa did for me-and my persistence paid off. He sent me these incredible pictures of motors-all types, all brands, and just looking at them I could hear them, and identify most of them. Just like we used to be able to, even noting the black jugs on the Norton meaning a Combat motor, without all the stickers. Down to the three crossed rifles of BSA, Birmingham Small Arms, a gun manufacturer who built motorcycles. Talk about politically incorrect? Motors with fins, and tooling, and shapes that made you want one-even before you heard it. A far cry from today's water cooled motors, who have all the appeal of a refrigerator. Soul less, which is why many are hidden behind plastic. And I wonder, why did Victory make their motor look like one from an air compressor? The road tests generally pick them over HD, but one look at the motor sends the faithful back to the badge and shield. Looks matter, so does the sound. Beauty, looks, voice, but still no second date.

Motorcycles, that after the ads got you into the store, gave you reasons to say yes to buying them. Just listening as the salesman twisted the throttle got you excited, even running your hands over the tank, while your eyes lustfully eyed the motor from top to bottom. The manufacturer had given you so many reasons to say yes, and you would be rewarded-blessed, by your next purchase. A great time, with great motors, and even better memories.

God loves to bless us. He takes pleasure in it, but I run into some who don't let Him. "Oh, you don't know what I've don, He could never forgive me and bless me," and they are wrong. He is in the blessing game, it is called grace. And you can't earn it or purchase it. He gives it as a gift. Yet, so many who have accepted this gift, still aren't blessed. Some even going so far as to enjoy the suffering, thinking it brings them closer to God. Suffering can, but His mercy is what brings you closer to Him. Some are mired in their own misery, for so long it feels good. And when a momentary burst of joy comes their way, feel embarrarressed. While the whole time, Jesus is wanting to bless you. But perhaps the wandering Jews, led by Moses are the best example of most of us. Every time they lost their way,or got impatient, or got cheesed off at the food, they wanted to go back to Egypt. "There the food was good," they would exclaim, forgetting that they were in slavery there. And so many are on the way to Egypt today-the symbol of sin and bondage. The same reason every time-PRIDE! Thinking that the plan they have is better that Gods'. So get over it! You should be riding! You should be seeking pleasure and joy and the blessings that come from seeking and finding God, rather than arguing with Him.

So how do I get blessed? Read Psalm 1. Stay away from the scoffers, and the complainers. And hang out with Jesus-meditate on Him it says, in today's slang, hang with Jesus. You see, I found He likes to ride, know the best places to eat, and is a great conversationalist. Also He knows what is best for me, offering advice, but never commanding me to do this or do that. That's my choice. A true road captain, tail gunner, and prez all at once. Why would you not want to follow?

Happy people make happy statements, whether in word, deed, or attitude. Just like you can tell a happy rider by his exhaust note, before you get to see him. Today let the words of your mouth, and the meditations of your heart be pleasing to God, and watch as your attitude changes. Watch as you get to know Him, you want to spend time with Him, and His people. You find riding is more fun, and there is no better place to be alone with God than while riding. No phones, faxes, or interruptions-just you and God-like He wants. Is it possible that we bikers knew this all along? Are we truly on to something?

Thanks Guy for the pictures, I hope you enjoyed sending them as much as I still enjoy looking at them. Eye candy. Motors-the heart and soul of what we ride, and Jesus Christ, the heart and soul of why we live! WTO all the way!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

http://www.flickr.com/photos/gordoncalder/sets/72157612757443903/show/

fill 'er up, part 2

On the other side of town, there was another Gulf station, also in a neighborhood, but also on route 22, at the time one of the busiest highways in the US of A. Two guys I knew, Roger and Jimmy, were the night shift, and after getting kicked out of Bowcraft, we would venture across 22 and hang out there. And as we got older, this being a true service station, would bring our cars there to change the oil, balance tires, and do whatever else we could to them-without doing too much damage. It was owned by a man named Bart, who for whatever reason left these two in charge at night, and which left the door open for about six of us to hang out. Eddie, Brains, Spanky, Arnold the A%$^, and Gary who was too tall for the Navy would hang there. In return for letting us use the lift, we would do chores for Jimmy, while Roger would help us work on our cars. And we had some interesting cars to work on.

Jimmy was building a 55 Chevy with a tilt hood-it was fast, and painted Krylon flat black. Roger had a cherry 1966 Cutlass was Cragar SS, and sometimes Bruce Hill would stop by in his 1962 Fairlane, named the Patricia 2. When asked why he named his first car Patricia 2, he explained his girlfriend was Patricia 1-who could argue with logic like that? Plus he was state heavy weight wrestling champ! I had my parent's Pinto, and Spanky would drive his brother Willard's 66 GTO convertible-Willard was in Nam, and Spanky was only 15-not old enough to drive. Sometimes he would drive his own Renault Dauphine, with the black spray painted interior with silver stars- crude combination of French automobile and too little parental attention. We were borderline harmless, but oft time would cross the border, only to hurry back to safety before parents or police intervened.

Now Jimmy and Roger always talked badly of Bart. When they should have been thankful they even had jobs, as knowing them from school they weren't going to win any scholastic achievement awards. And they were always thinking of ways to cheese him off, and one night pulled off the perfect crime. The station had one of those old, low cash registers with he hand crank to open the drawer, and we all had access to it-and honestly never abused it when making change for the pop machine. But one night, after closing, the two took the cash register-but left the money. I had been there during practice runs, and they would leave all the coins and cash piled up just like they were in the register-except there was no register. And this is what Bart found one morning when he arrived to work. Which put him in an interesting situation, do I call the cops and report that my cash register was stolen? But how do I tell them they left the money? I could hear the Scotch Plains cops now, telling the story today, as it would have become an urban legend. But I believe Bart did the correct thing, and took the easy way out-he bought a new register, never mentioned a thing, but showed up every night for about a month, forcing us to flee to the pizza parlor after being run out of Bowcraft, while I'm sure his profits rose-all to the enjoyment of Jimmy-Roger just complained because he was half way through some engine work, and this curtailed it. But they had pulled of the perfect crime! How many cash registers have you ever heard of being reported stolen?

But they had violated a trust with Bart, and things went down hill fast from there. So I got a girlfriend, and all was well, actually better. But I am reminded of how a business man and the trust was broken. Now not much is ever said about the innkeeper when telling the story of the good Samaritan, we always concentrate on him, and how we was more compassionate than the others. Even getting a room for the beaten man, paying for it, but instructing the innkeeper to take care of him, and he would settle up next time through. Now maybe this good Samaritan was a regular, had good credit, and could be trusted. But the innkeeper was also a "good Samaritan"-he took care of the man. Yes, maybe just for profit, as a good businessman should, but he trusted the Samaritan to return, not knowing if he would be compensated. Maybe not as altruistic, but he showed faith and trust taking care of the beaten man. And without him the story would have had a different outcome. Maybe the owner, or just a night clerk, but he showed faith in taking care of a stranger, from another stranger-hoping the bill would be paid! It took two men, each doing what needed to be done, working together. A lesson we should remember, as sometimes God only wants us to do one step, and them pass the job onto another. Now, Route 22 may not have been the Bloody Road that the Samaritan found the beaten man on, but at that Gulf station I wonder if the beaten man would have been welcome. Or if they would have taken the money to assist, it never seeing the inside of the register? Fortunately, these two men had a trust, hopefully one not broken like at the station.

Today I can guarantee that someone will upset you, cheese you off, and want you will want to seek revenge-even if you do just by calling him names. Don't! Leave the cash, and the register alone. Although a funny story, and entered into the urban legend status, take the time to be known as the good innkeeper-the proper employee, and do the right thing. Remember Samaritans were looked down on-despised actually, but this one showed true character. Show compassion today, and you will find those around you will also. Plus it will be shown to you. But better yet, be an innkeeper, and when someone entrusts you with something valuable, don't betray that trust. Honor both the trust, and the person who entrusted you with it. And by doing so show compassion, just like Jesus shows for you. How many times a day does He show mercy? Every time, I believe.

Only God knows the true story behind the great cash register robbery. Be an innkeeper tonight to someone, as He knows your heart also. Full service isn't only for gas stations, but should be part of every Christians life. And a fair deal is where both parties benefit. Take that one to the bank, just be careful, and make sure the register is secure. Much better to be secure in Jesus. For He is no urban legend, but the truth!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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riding under the influence

As a biker, motorcyclist, and bikerider, there are five movies that have influenced my life-all about motorcycles of course. Each one portrays a different aspect of the motorcycling world, and each one have parts in it that are highly personal. Not seen in chronological order, but it seems the order I did see them was important in my life.

Easy Rider was on last night, and I can remember sitting through it three times at the Cinema when I first saw it. Not only was the music great, but the freedom that was shown by these two guys riding cross country, somehow I knew I would some day. So at age 21 I took off cross country by myself, and have never looked back. But as pretty as the west was, it was the south that captivated me, and on my first long trip, from NJ to Florida, encountered prejudice-real prejudice for the first time. Although I grew up near Newark, and next to Plainfield, and remembered the riots of 1967, I had never seen true bigotry. My first encounter was in 1974 in Georgia, where I held open a door at a KFC for a black women-and while the restaurant full of white diners looked at me, she said "sir, you don't have to do that, it's OK." And by her tone, and their glares, I didn't, but went in first-and never forgot the bigotry I saw that day. And every time I travel in the south, I am reminded of that day. In a movie all about freedom of spirit, and the road, it reminds me that only in Jesus can you truly be free.

Little Fauss and Big Halsy-a great movie, but hard to find. Robert Redford plays Halsey Knox, a womanizing, privateer racer, looking for a factory ride. In between one night stands, and races, he pals with Little Fauss, played by Michael J. Pollard, who is a better wrench and rider, and who eventually gets the factory ride-while Halsey gets Lauren Hutton. We all should be such gracious losers. Racing is more important, but I guess he could always pack her double. And you aren't always racing, as she gets pregnant. And for years my friends and I carried a toothbrush in our back pocket like Halsey did, thinking it was cool. Hoping to run into Lauren Hutton. And years later it was my intro to the racing world-where I found no one carried a toothbrush like that-except me. Lauren, where'd you go?

On Any Sunday-what can you say. The best movie to get the blood going and getting you off the sofa and out riding. Steve McQueen, motorcyclist and actor, as he liked to be known, Malcolm Smith, and Mert the Dirt are still heroes, and as I watch it again and again, remember the golden era of racing, before the factories took over, and it became a business. Made the same time as Little Fauss, it showed the real side of racing-and heroes that are still heroes today. And how many can remember that to get the #1 plate you had to compete in TT, short track, the mile, and road racing-back when to be a champion you had to win in them all? Fast shoes, who could do it all-the guys I still wish I was one of. Riding and racing because it was fun!

Ask my boys, who know all the lines, and the Wild One still makes a great impact. Johnny, my love, played by Brando, and Lee Marvin, as Chino-still get my blood going as I watch them scrambling with their clubs-"and after a long week, "as Johnny says, "you just gotta jam, you know pow!" And I do. And the feeling of the club with you, and the freedom of the ride-sometimes get to be too much. I just gotta go-pow! And every time I am in Malibu Canyon, can still see them making the right turn onto Mulholland Highway from Las Virgenes -long before the Rock Store was, but still, bikers truly understanding the brotherhood-and the freedom of the road. "What you rebelling against Johnny?" "Whatta ya got" And I can even wear my BRMC sweatshirt-if you gotta ask, you don't know. And the real reason we all used to go to Hollister, before it became a law enforcement weekend. Did you know the soundtrack is a legend among jazz types? Look it up-great music for in the cage when it's raining.

A customer who doesn't ride gave me World's Fastest Indian, and I'm glad he did. Anthony Hopkins plays Bert Munro to perfection, and watching as one man's dream becomes reality encourages me when I get down or behind. His commitment to go fast, and the brotherhood of other racers help him to attain his dream, show me I am on the right track.

For years I have said that I wish the church could understand brotherhood like the biking community does. We aren't perfect-either group, but each group is based on a single entity. Bikers on bikes, and Jesus is the heart of Christianity-without Christ there would be none. But as I get closer to God, my peer group becomes more Christ like-putting life into their style, and showing me how the family does understand true brotherhood. It's the posers-in church and on the road that don't get it, and unfortunately those are the ones most people remember. The news only shows someone in leather with loud pipes, and tells us that is a biker, but don't see they have families too, who have the same problems as the other citizens-death, taxes, and health issues. And I find very few real bikers who would be interviewed-why talk with the enemy, they'll get it all wrong anyway. And the world only sees when a Christian falls-in act they can't wait, it makes them fell better, but seldom show how they express the love of Jesus,except to deny Franklin Graham from leading a prayer on the National Day of Prayer. We wouldn't want anyone to show love would we? So I propose a movie, about Christian bikers, with all types of bikers in it-not just playing themselves, but being themselves. No posers-we know who you are! Toy rides, club runs, racers, cross country tours, scrambling, and just hanging with your pals. And how respect and brotherhood aren't left at the door, but taken out among the lost and dying. Just like Jesus did, and as He instructed us. "AS you go," He says, "preach the gospel." Show love, listen when you could be talking, and you may find that we are not all that different, and we all want the same thing. Freedom. And my prayer is that you find it in Jesus. He is the only way, the only truth, and the only life. Not rules-but freedom! Different from what religion has told you I'm sure!

I even have a title for it-On Any Sunday, the Wild Ones become Easy Riders! Until then, John 3:16 will have to do-read it and live it. True freedom was won at the cross-so we all can ride! Kick stands up!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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DUEL!

Probably one of the scariest things that can happen to you is being chased. Add the fear of actually being caught to that, and what can happen and nothing else comes close. Then add to that, a faceless, inanimate adversary, who you don't know, and wants to kill you, and you don't know why, and you truly know fear. Such is the premise for one of my favorite movies-and it's even in color, Duel. Steven Spielberg's first film, an ABC movie of the week, it is about a truck, whose driver we never see, chasing a timid man across the desert in his 1969 Plymouth Valiant, trying to kill him by running him off the road. For almost 90 minutes you are so scared you, you find yourself in the car with David Mann, trying to outduel the truck. I will not tell you the end-see it.

Theresa and I had our own Duel experience. In 1978, we lived in a cabin at Vallecito Lake, outside of Durango. No work, and our hearts were leaning towards ministry, so we answered an ad for house parents for Colorado Boys Ranch in La Junta, about 300 miles, and over the mountain from us. After talking with them, we decided to go for a interview, and drove our Rabbit. We were over Wolf Creek Pass in daylight, but by the time we hit Walsenburg, it was dark. Remember this was when the speed limit was 55mph, and cops would ticket you for 60, so we kept the pace down.

Now the road after Walsenburg is flat, straight , and nothing for about 100 miles. Not the place to break down, or as we found out, encounter a Duel-like trucker. We were running along at about 60mph, when a set of headlights came up on us fast. Staying a steady speed, we waited for them to pass, but they didn't, or more accurately wouldn't. This huge truck stayed on our tail, sometimes so close that his headlights illuminated the inside of our car, and sometimes so close you couldn't even see the headlights! It was an eerie feeling being followed/chased like that, and we got scared. At that time it was not unusual for truckers to take a lot of speed, and looking back this guy might have been strung out, nuts, suicidal, or just out to scare someone. It didn't matter-we were scared for our lives. Much of the time all I could see was a huge grill filling my rear window, and I even considered having Theresa shoot at the truck, taking out our rear window and his radiator. She even had the gun pointed. We eventually sped up to over 85mph, trying to outrun him, with no success, the truck still glued to our mirror, it's dark outside, and no place to pull off-all there was was high desert. Finally, with fear overtaking us, and no other way out, we pulled off at a high speed into the dirt and slammed on the brakes-as the tanker semi went by honking his horn. We sat for a few minutes to get our composure back, where are the cops when you need them?

Fortunately, the truck didn't turn around-another one of our fears, and we made it to La Junta safely-and shaken.

Your adversary the devil chases you looking to devour you. And sometimes the chase can be worse than the confrontation. We are reminded to not look back, ala Lot's wife, but sometimes when in fear all we can see is our past. And when we do, we often forget how God got us through things in the past. And how He will again, if we let Him. We are told to resist the devil and he will flee-good advice, but then to put on the things of God-a two step process. You see when the devil flees, it leaves a void, and there is always something, not always holy to fill it. So we need God to fill the void, to fill the vacancy created, and only He can.

Remembering that God is love, the best way to resist the devil is to love your enemy back. Now at the time I hated that trucker, it was the evil inside him I really hated. And we need to be reminded that our battle is not against people, but powers of evil. And the best way to resist him is to love your enemy. No shouting, or casting him out-Jesus already overcame him at the cross. Love your enemy! Hate the sin-not the sinner.

Unfortunately-society has it all wrong, and is watching our reactions. I hope you can disappoint them the next time, by not over reacting, but reacting in love. Walk your talk-resist the devil and he will flee! He cannot stand love-because God is love! And watch as the Lord deals with your situation unlike you would have in hate. Revenge is His business, and you don't mess with His children! And like most situations, the one who retaliates gets caught! Don't fall into the trap!

Trust Him today, no matter what is chasing you, whether a family matter, financial situation, joblessness, or a truck is gaining on you. Trust God! He is always one step ahead, but never too far that He can't be reached. He saved our lives on the road that night, somewhere in all our fear, He knew and our cry for help was answered.

By the way, we got the job-but didn't take it. God had something better for us, and gave us two sons to raise instead. That can be scary too! So turn your eyes upon Jesus today, and watch as the things of earth grow dim in the light of His glory and grace.

Make mine a ham and cheese on rye, R-Y-E! Watch the movie! But for the things of God, read the book!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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it's 1963, do you know where your parents are?

Theresa and I were talking the other night that we are so glad we don't have to date again. After 32 years of marriage, we have honored our commitment to each other, and it has honored us, and it has honored God. That doesn't mean it has been easy, but we honored that commitment, no matter the fight, and God has been gracious to us. We truly believe that God has made the two of us one, and I am thankful for the gift He has given me, just like He gave Eve to Adam. And it has made me a protector and respecter of her, as with the gift God tells me to love her like Jesus loves the church-a great equalizer for those men too foolish to realize that aren't her boss-but her co-equal! And although society seems to favor the man in many areas, the women have the final say many times.

Over 40 years ago, dating was different. Most young guys would hang out at the shop for awhile, bench racing until it was time for their haircut. A scheduled event, as when hair was shorter, you got it cut every other week, and had your favorite barber. The owner usually had the chair by the window, and for 75 cents you got a trim. And while waiting read through magazines forbidden at home like Esquire and For Men Only. You discussed things like if Kennedy was still president this Viet Nam thing wouldn't be out of control, new cars with bigger engines, and will anyone ever beat the Yankees. And how about Koufax and Drysdale? Could anyone imagine haircuts like the Beatles? Truly a male domain-without a female in sight-as it should be.

Women had their counter part-the salon. Where they would go to get beautiful, and discuss things like Liz Taylor, who just divorced her sixth, or was it seventh husband, and who would be her seventh, or was it eighth? Can you believe the new styles this year-wow! And how about those cute guys the Beatles-will my boyfriend ever get a haircut like that? OOOOOOOH! Truly a woman's domain, without men-as it should be.

And while the guys would polish their car, or their parents car if they were without, the girls went clothes shopping for their date that night. No one dated on Fridays-Saturday was the night. Especially if it was your steady.

But if not, you could tell a lot about the date by listening to the men talk. If she had one name, like Betty or Shirley, all the guys knew she was easy-and she never met your parents. A cheap date, in more ways than one. With more go than show, unlike your mom's sedan. But if she had two names, Like Suzy Smith, or Laura Jones, she had the possibility of being a steady, so you might invest in a burger after the movie. Just the opposite with the girls. You're going out with Greg Lane? Yuk-be careful. Much different from, so you're seeing Eddie again-he is so dreamy. Hang onto him!

And finally the big time came to pick up your date, in your clean and shiny car-hoping she would notice, but really shining it up for the guys. Girls just never noticed how much the hood shines in the dark, or how you had the radio buttons programmed to all the best stations. And your date would look all prim and proper-sweaters and skirts, the way it oughta be. Without the benefit of spandex, and not wondering if this skirt made her look fat, as clothes fit back then, and weren't worn two sizes too small. And as you held the door for her to get in, she was hoping you would notice, but really showing off for her friends. For most of us couldn't tell if it came from Kresges or Larkeys. And the smell of perfume making her so attractive-so notice! There will be a test later, well maybe just a quiz-open book!

And after a movie and a burger and Coke, you would go parking, finally getting the only benefit your mom's car had to offer over the Super Sport you desired-bench seats! Hopefully she wouldn't sit next to her door all night. And saving you a trip to the rear. And how could time could fly so fast when you were having so much fun? And not understanding how you had to have her home by midnight, you could get into just as much trouble before, and you had-sometimes. You were 16, a man, and it was truly a man's world, as you were in control, at least your date would let you think that-up to a point. You had picked the restaurant, the movie, and now the place to park. Based on her OK-of course. You were a gentlemen, hoping that she would be like a lady, until later. Relationships were made and kept based on these intimate moments. Some that would last through marriage, and beyond.

Your whole life is about relationships. With people, jobs, motorcycles, and hopefully God. Jesus tells us to seek His kingdom first, and all else will be added unto you. And you find this is true in all things, but really true in marriage. Just like Jesus is head of the church, men have head over their wives, not to control, but to encourage, and protect. True love demands a choice, and the wise husband chooses to love his wife this way. Even putting himself out, and putting up with her, as she does with him. Being strong when she is weak, and being there when she needs him. After God, she is his top priority, and he honors God by honoring her. And the closer to God he is, the more he loves his wife, and the more she responds. There will times she needs new clothes, or a trip to the beauty parlor. Greg Laurie says if the house needs paint, do it. Unlike my old friend Carl, who would drop his wife off at the beauty parlor for an estimate. The two have truly become one in Christ-and they will endure.

Things have changed in 45 years, but men and women still need each other. And still need Jesus. We may go to salons instead of barber shops, and I'm am so glad we don't have to park-I get tired after 930pm. But I am always glad to come home to the wife for life God has given me. I hope you do too. And you young guys and gals-seek Jesus now, and let Him guide you to that perfect mate. This can be the time of your life. Looks will fade, hair will fall out, and bucket seats will look better to you than a bench. But remember your first love-Jesus, and be the kind of husband your wife desires and she will be the wife of your dream. And you will have a peace that surpasses understanding.

Overheard a while ago, two women talking, about their long time husbands. When asked how she knew her husband still loved her and thought she was beautiful after all the years, she commented "whenever I bend over he never misses a chance to look down my shirt." May we all be so blessed, but look up first, seek God, and still desire our wives for years to come. And may they still find us as desirable. For God has said, "the two shall become one..." Still crazy after all these years-crazy about my wife.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com