God shed His grace on Lee

Any old biker will tell you that chains stretch, and need adjustment-then you have to replace them. Same with cables before the advent of Teflon. I broke one once on my Z-1, remember the push/pull system on Jap bikes? When I finally figured it out, I had to push rather than pull, until I got even smarter and just reversed it, until my new one arrived. Amazing what you learn in desperation. And we even stretch before we get on our bikes, knowing we will be sitting for a while, and loosening up. So we should be very familiar with stretching. And in a Spandex world, staying loose is a good thing, for someday we will all be stretched. It's just that some are more Bungee than Spandex and want to bounce back. But true to form, when God says stretch, He means growth-for us. And what He sends our way is always to benefit us. And also to remind us how He controls the future. For our benefit for those who follow Him.

I was asked to speak at Lee's service, and God had given me the words. Then I was asked to speak for two minutes at the cemetery, we only had 30 minutes there. And while the girls had worked out hand signals to stop me at two minutes, God had another plan. When we arrived, the cemetery representative told me I had 15 minutes-to do my two minute show! No hand signs necessary. Isn't there something about man plans, and God laughs? But Lord, this is my friends funeral! Trust works in all situations, remember? But, first I must digress... a little.

When laying in bed and asking God what he wanted me to say, He told me to sing-to sing Amazing Grace to the tune of America, the Beautiful. And also where it says "God shed His grace on thee," to say God shed His grace on Lee. Cool. OK Lord, we got the words-now I have to find someone to sing.

"NO!" was His answer. "You sing!" It's like wait God, this is a funeral, and I have never sung in public. And I don't sing in public. And this is a funeral God, remember? Aren't they supposed to be somber? But God had a different plan-and He wanted to stretch me!

So when He gave me the words to say, I was blessed. And even excited to sing-that should make you believe in miracles. And sing we did. Loud, so the other mourners could hear our joy, and when we all sang "God shed His grace on Lee"-you could feel the love and joy. And then we all broke into spontaneous applause! Dick had joined in on his harmonica-even asked Theresa what key I would sing in-off key, Dick, if ever I am asked again. And Suzi, aka Ballerini was blessed. What a celebration of life-and Jesus in a man's life! And the funeral director told me this was one of the best services he had ever seen. S-t-r-e-t-c-h-e-d-! A whole bunch-God knew exactly what He was doing.

And at the reception, I was asked to sing it again. And with Glen's help, we all sang again, from the heart! And then people picked up American flags that were used to decorate the room, and I remembered Lee-and Father Al. When years ago Fr. Al was asked to be a bishop, we prayed and he reminded me that the God who had asked Him, would also give him grace to complete it. And on Friday God's grace was amazing, and it allowed me to complete what God wanted for Lee's funeral. But I also thought of Lee, and Ballerini told Theresa later, "Lee would have loved it!" Thanks Lord, and I am so glad I followed your advice.

Today you will be faced with decisions. Jesus is there to be faithful to complete the task He set before you. But you must obey God. For where He guides, He provides. he knew exactly what Suzi and the family needed that day, and provide it, using this off key singer to bring joy to a funeral. And if I can sing before a crowd, imagine what you with talent from God can do?

Go ahead and sing the tune, using Amazing Grace as the words. Lee's funeral turned out to be amazing, and full of grace, all because of Jesus.

For God and for country-He still continues to shine His grace on you today! Just try to get that tune out of your head! But never let Him out of your heart!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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size matters

Size matters. If it doesn't, then why look? Why don't you just pick whatever box looks right and buy it? Because-size does matter. And so does price. Which should equal an equation of value. And since the economic recession, size matters more. Less or no income-that size really matters. But when shopping, have you noticed how cereal prices are the same, but the amount inside has dropped? Same with chips, which used to be 16 oz. bags, are now 11 oz. bags, but the same price. Even Coca Cola now sells a 14 oz. bottle, when they used to sell a half liter for the same price. Pooey on those who advertise more for less, it is really less for the same, because size matters!

Andrew and I had lunch at a Red Robin yesterday. It had been awhile, and I remember big burgers, and lotsa fries. Now-they advertise "bottomless fries," and the five that showed up on my plate was embarrassing. Until the girl brought my replacement plate, and when combined still wasn't as large as they were before. But you were under the impression you were getting more. I think. Same with endless drinks. Charge way more, use more ice, and where I used to drink two large diets, yesterday I had five! Endless, and bottomless-there has to be an end to it all somewhere! Before I hit bottom!

Does size matter to bikers? It does if you have a 103 motor instead of a 96 cubic inch. Don't tell anyone the smaller engine is a better engine, and has more horsepower potential. Size matters-sometimes just to the ego. So go to Red Robin to unwind, and for an ego boost. Years ago a 1000cc bike was the most powerful and the way to go. Now today a 600cc will run with them, the only difference being the quality of the rider. And again size matters, as look at how small all the racers are, big guys like me can't compete-no matter our cubic inches. So to try to keep the races equal, you can't ride a three cylinder against a four cylinder 600, but can against a 750. You can run your 1100cc Ducati twin against a four cylinder 1000. And in the dirt, you can run your four stroke 250 in the 125 class with two strokes, or your 450 with 250 two strokes. Does size matter to these guys? Does winning? Or do you remember when we rode for fun? I think I need a Big Gulp.

Do you know the soft drink industry measures performance on cases sold, based on 8 oz. bottles in the case? They used to fill you up, now a Big Gulp of 44 oz. sometimes isn't enough. It seems as our thirst goes up, so does the size. And Bottomless and Endless just can't fill the need. Maybe it is true, there is truly no substitute for cubic inches.

Satisfied? Probably not. We still like to think we are getting a deal. Ten cents each or two for a quarter? I have been with guys who have bought the quarter deal. So I read the signs for dollar deals at the fast food restaurants. And shop wisely-I want to get the most for my money. And I want to get the most from my God. I don't want deals, free refills, or a bigger God. I want the most, or the most blessings I can get. I want all of God I can-and believe me, I need Him. Zechariah 4 tells us not by might, not by power, but by my Spirit, says the Lord of Hosts. Our God is mighty, and reflects it via His love for us. But mighty means exercising it in battle. And you can lose, if you don't trust God. Power means adding numbers to your might, and who doesn't want or need more power. Talk to the guys buying dyno time for $100/hour. Just to get a few more horsepower. When all they need to cruise at 70mph is 15! But it is God's spirit, that can guide, and power us in all situations. But it also does things that power and might don't. The Spirit gives peace and comfort. Joy, love, patience, goodness, kindness, meekness, and self control. Power and might don't. They just bring more against you, so you need more power and might.

Size matters, but not the size of your God, although ours measures the universe by the size of His hand, but by the the size of His love. And that love is Jesus. Free refills-in fact the fountain is bottomless, and endless. No deceptive advertising-He is love, and died for you while still sinning. He doesn't run specials, doesn't change the product to meet conditions, and doesn't need more cc's or horsepower. His grace is sufficient-never too little, never too much, never too soon, and never too late. Sufficient. Perfect. I like that. That is a choice I can make without reading the labels.

You see size matters. When the store can sell you a 2 liter for 79 cents, and you buy a 20 oz. for $1.50, profit is what matters more. Profit today on making the right investment-Jesus Christ. Guaranteed-the most bang for the buck, and a peace to enjoy it all.

Yes, go ahead, super size my meal. My dinner guest is picking up the tab. When it was time, He paid the price. That I couldn't. Now that's a deal. He bought the first round, and the crowd has never gotten smaller.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogpsot.com

what if the apostles had a career counselor?

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" we are often asked when we are younger. And depending on the age, and audience, we want to be anything from a fireman to a doctor or lawyer. It pleases our family to hear we will become a doctor-free medical they joke, but don't realize you have to get sick to benefit from it. For like mercy, you have to screw up to get it. Or becoming a lawyer, and we all see our children as Perry Mason, but don't realize all the hours put into one case just for the short time before the judge. Sounds more like life.

And as we get older, we change direction. Based on skills, or desires, we can change daily. I wanted to work in the motorcycle industry until I did, and all the guys riding through on nice days while I had to work helped me change my mind. I know many who made the military a career, but had no idea they would have to go into battle. I had a friend in college who would base his major on what girls were in his classes, as far as I know he never graduated. But he did get an education!

Perhaps the key words here are "growing up." Some people are born old, with such a sense of responsibility they never enjoy life. I used to feel sorry for them, but now I am thankful for them, so I don't have to be. Doctors have a short life expectancy. And the lawyers I know are usually on the verge of burn out. For it is true, the more money I ever made, more than my education should have merited, the more it exacted from me-physically, emotionally, and spiritually. But for all the above desires of men, and women, the common bond is desire-ambition. We wanted to be something. To achieve a goal. We wanted to show the world. When we really should be showing God. And I have met some who are always on that path, but never getting there. And others who have made it in their field, and never have time to enjoy it. My friend Ted in New Mexico was part of a very rich family, but yet had no privacy. When we went out, people would always have a deal for him, and he had no privacy. And maybe very few friends, because they all had a angle to work him for. I met a man at the Long Beach Motorcycle Show back when it was in Anaheim. He was sitting at a kiosk, and we talked for awhile. Motorcycles, and other things. I was starting to leave and he asked, "did I want a signed poster?" "Of who," I asked. "Me," he laughed. His name was Eddie Lawson, World Champ. But until that time, he was just a guy who shared bikes and other common denominators. I never did get a poster, I prefer to remember him as I had met him.

Ambition-don't let it come between you and God. I watch as businessman choose a career over their families. If they put business over family, how can they be trusted with real things of value-or values? And as men choose work over spouses, although to be fair, there are other reasons men work late-they don't want to come home, gifts are a poor substitute when they could be giving themselves. But true to their hearts, I have also watched men deny the offer of a promotion to stay with his family. Where his kids are worth more than the things he could buy them if he had a larger income. Of being there for his wife, rather than sending her candy, he was there to share it with her.

Don't let ambition get between you and God. True success is measured through His eyes, not yours. Ask yourself, what is the motive for your career? Has God given you a gift, or are you consumed with making it in the world? Are you measuring success on monetary gain-someone will always make more. On career goals-the goals will change. Or are you wanting to please God, and make Him the success in your life? Tough questions, but I have always found it best to be where God wants me to be. It is lonely out there without Him, and no amount of time away from Him will be satisfied with fame or fortune. Live within your means, and within the desires that He has given you. If a doctor, doctor for the Lord. A lawyer, serve in truth. A waitress, serve as unto the Lord. But as a parent or spouse, commit your works to the Lord, and your plans will be well established.

For just like meeting Eddie, it is more important that I have committed my life to God, than to just getting a signed poster. I met Eddie, but don't know him. Only about him. Don't be able to say the same about Jesus.

I may never grow up-not my ambition. But I do desire to grow in Jesus. What do you do for a living? Me-I'm a Christian. Great benefits-let me tell you about the retirement program! And Joe and Mary's kid, just a carpenter?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the Steve McQueen of bicycles

Mine was colored green-Flamboyant Green they called it. A bright, lime green, unlike any color ever seen a bike before. And it had no fenders, 20" wheels, and a seat termed a banana seat-long, white and way cool. But the rear tire, a slick-like on drag racing cars told you this bike was serious fun. It was called the Sting Ray, and it was made by Schwinn. Back in the sixties when adding chrome, or headlights, baskets, racks, or streamers was cool, this bike was stripped down to nothing. The first bicycle Bobber if you will, and it reeked of cool. Even the name Sting Ray said cool-for any red blooded American boy knew about the Corvette Sting Ray-and even though your dad would never own one, you could have your own Sting Ray!

But they weren't cheap, at $49.95 they were $10 more than the basic Typhoon, a lot of money in the time of nickel candy, 12 cent comics and 25 cent Mad magazines. But I had one, and so did my sister-hers was purple with a white basket, with the not so cool name of Fair Lady, but still a Sting Ray. I think. And thanks to my Grandma, I was probably the coolest guy to ever ride one out of Scotch Plains Cycle Center. And when my parents finally relented and let me ride it home-all 4 miles across Scotch Plains via Fanwood, I hurried, but went real slow past the group of kids my age-for I had a Sting Ray! And they didn't! When my friends would ask "could they have a ride," I had the power of no. But soon Scottie, Bruce, and Barry would have a short ride, and tell everyone how cool it was-making you even cooler, at least until they had their own. And we all did, but many weren't Sting Rays, but look-a-likes, but my Flamboyant Green Sting Ray was the coolest.

And we would do some customizing, mine even had a tiger striped, velour seat, that molted the first time I got it wet. And like Harley does today, Schwinn took the basic bike, and added 2, 3, and 5 speed shifters-even had a Fastback model with a huge shifter right on the crossbar. Springer front ends, Schwinn had them, too. And as they got heavy, expensive, and a custom styling exercise, they never quite captured the coolness of the original. And in the back of my mind, I wonder did Willie G. get his initial styling impressions from the Sting Ray? Was he really a closet Sting Ray kid at heart? But for me, it started me on the path of lighter, simpler machines. If it don't need it, don't add it. A Bobber mentality, but built for action. Maybe that is why I ride a Street Triple, and am nuts over the new Speed Triple. Built for action, and able to compensate for my lack of ability via superb brakes and handling. With an attitude of let's see what I can do. And just sitting one one made you cool. And it all started 46 years ago with my Sting Ray.

And maybe that is why I am so taken by the gospel. It is simple, but built for performance. It is all about Jesus, with nothing added. No fenders to add weight, a cool seat for sitting on and spending time with Him, and a slick-for doing your skids and putting more power to the ground when you need it. No rules-you have freedom! So God made the gospel simple so we could all get it. Just Jesus, keeping the main thing the only thing. No Jesus and performing for salvation. No gotta be baptized and join our church to be saved. No hoping you would make it, but blessed assurance, based on faith. Simply put, believe in your heart that Jesus is God, and rent, and be saved. Confess with your mouth, you just can't keep Him inside. For like my first Sting Ray ride, you have to show Him off-in love of course. And like riding my new bike home, no break in miles needed, no waiting to be accepted. You are in the moment you accept Him. And if your church, pastor, denomination, or cult has a problem with that, refer them to Ephesians 2:8-10. For salvation, like my Sting Ray, is a gift. I could never earn that bike, but I sure could accept it as a gift. And both that Sting Ray, and Jesus live in my heart today. But only Jesus saves.

Bikes will come and go out of your life. Don't let Jesus go the same way. Trends may come and go, but He is the same-the perfect model from the beginning. All you need, and nothing you don't. Perfection, and like my Sting Ray, love with a slick. Just for getting the love to the road you know.

There would be other bikes, then girls, then motorcycles to fight for my attention. But next to Jesus, they always come in second. And second place is not first loser when Jesus is first in your life. Seek Him first, and let Him add all things to your life. Just make mine Flamboyant Green, but please-no tiger seat!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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I'd rather be old school than an old fool

This is for all those who remember Saturday mornings as a kid. For all you guys who loved the smell of your new US Keds-United States Keds that is. Or their competition, PF Flyers. White high tops were my preference. Remember the smell of the denim and rubber, and how you would save the box just to smell it sometimes? It helped them stay new, at least in your mind. And then you would get on your Schwinn or Rollfast and ride-we never cruised, the neighborhood, riding past the fresh cut yards, even being able to tell the difference between the grass cut by the old push mowers and the new power mowers-all built, like your bikes, in the US of A. And sometimes , your dad would send you for gas for the mower, twenty five cents worth, that was pumped from American wells, and the tetra ethyl smell that came from it seemed heavenly. Invented by an American engineer at General Motors, the largest corporation in the world. American. And after that, the dads in the neighborhood would wash their cars, and the new car smell from the Morrokide-particularly strong on new Chevies and Pontiacs, would cause you to pause and inhale deeply. Somehow Fords and Chryslers with their nylon interiors never had quite the same aroma. Even on a station wagon. There again-made in the USA.

Once a month you went for a haircut-not a styling. And the aroma of the Bay Rum, or the talc was purely American. And no girls. This was for boys, 'er men only. And the aroma would only last until mixed with the sweat of running and playing with friends.

Playing catch with your friends, your glove, American cowhide, would produce its own pleasant aroma. Remember how you held it in front of your face, just to catch a whiff? I still have my Mickey Mantle Fastback model, the first one. Paid $7.99 plus got a book of How to Play Baseball with it, by the Mick. A big deal in 1967. And when mixed with the smell of fresh grass on your jeans-denim made in the US, you played America's past time with your friends. And your mom would have hamburgers for lunch, fried in a skillet-for it took too much time to light the charcoal briquettes-they were for steaks and barbeques in the evenings anyway, again, made in Michigan. On grills made in the states. You were an American, watching TV shows on your American made TV, eating domestic beef, and wearing cotton and denim clothes-all made in the US of A. We wore sneakers-never did the call them tennis shoes, and we were proud to be Americans. We were to find out though, as our 20/20 hindsight was to show us, we were the last great generation who consumed American items. We were producers, but about to become importers. Where price was more important than quality, and where it was produced didn't matter-no matter how many families were effected by the loss of their father's income. No on was offered a job in a Chinese factory, an Indian sweatshop, or a Japanese assembly line. But with no warning, we were the last generation of our kind-true Americans consuming American made products, powered by American gas, and enjoying all the great aromas that came with them.

But something stinks out there. It just doesn't smell right, and it certainly isn't pleasing. An odor, instead of an aroma. A generation that gave up all the pleasant aromas that prosperity bring, and gave them up willingly. Without a battle. Until it was too late.

Today a final generation waits for the rapture, when Jesus comes to rescue His church from the earth. And the warning signs are there, and even the movies cry out about the end of the world, but don't get it right. Something stinks,and it's us. We have given up everything we own, including our values, for valuables. We are being warned, and even given a way out. But we won't heed the message. While we wear designer tennis shoes, listen to i-pods, and complain about high taxes, we do not turn to God. The same God who shed His grace on America, but whose citizens have turned away from Him, and in many times against Him. It used to be all about Him, now it is all about us. And we cannot save ourselves from the stench we have created. We need the pleasant aroma that only Jesus Christ can bring into a life. Precious memories await us if we seek Jesus. If we turn from our wicked ways, God promises to heal our land. Maybe not take us back to a time of Schwinns and Keds, but a time of fellowship and devotion to God. If life stinks, it doesn't have too. Seek Jesus, and follow Him. Lay down on fresh grass, and take in the aroma. Open a box of Keds, and smell the canvas. Go to an old car show and stand next to a Chevy from the sixties, and inhale. But first, take a deep breath of Jesus. And hold it inside. Let it out and repeat. And experience aromas from life you never knew existed. Be part of a generation who may be the last one on earth-and can't wait to get to heaven. But you can also enjoy it now. Like the song says, the greatest treasure is for those who choose Him now.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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that something you're looking for is really a someone

Like most of you who ride, I used to watch Easy Rider for the motorcycles. But since it has become trendy, and after watching "Hi, I'm Robert Osborne," on TCM give me more details and insight than I would ever need, it has lost something to me. In fact I can take it down to about five minutes in the film that I enjoy, although it still is a great movie. For me, when Wyatt takes off his watch, and he and Billy head down the road to "Born to be Wild," I get excited. The beginning of any trip is exciting, and it reminds me of riding-out of California. When they cross over the bridge at Needles, into Arizona, a new freedom-that of less laws and more open roads, greets them, and me. New roads to many, and where will they lead. Watching the two without words exchange glances, and enjoying the freedom only found in riding, I know what they know. A great day of riding, airing out all the cobwebs and stresses that interfere with us, and maybe it is true what they say, even a bad day of riding is better than no riding at all. A scene that couldn't be done in cars. Individual freedom, without radio or junk food. And as they ride into downtown Kingman, and then head out of town on old 66, I sense their excitement as to what the road ahead brings, except it wasn't old then, I know that road, and ride it when I can bypassing the freeway. But for me the freedom ends, and I lose interest when they pull into the motel for the night, and the old man takes one look at bikers, and turns on the NO vacancy sign. At that point, I fully agree with Billy and his gesture and also his calling the old man a *&^%$@@! He was-God please forgive me.

I have ridden most of the roads they show in the movie, and sadly much has changed since I first did, 35 years ago. Freeways have taken the place of Route 66, chain motels have taken the place of Mom and Pop motels-although some still have a prejudice about bikers, and riding is still the best way to go. But without the motorcycles, this movie, well it just doesn't work. And so it bothers me that some existential try to explain the symbolism and what it represents. Or the arty types show how the cinematography and directing make the movie. If so, then how can you explain the poor quality photos you take that mean so much to you? Without the bikes, the movie lacks soul, and no matter how snobby you get trying to interpret the film, the bottom line is this-it's about motorcycles! Get it?

Just like the gospel is about Jesus! Get it! No religious interpretations, no finding the numerology in the Bible via secret codes, or guessing the day of His return. It is about Jesus. And although these other things may be interesting, when they get between you and Him, you are in sin, for they take the place of Jesus. Keep them in a proper perspective-and remember like in Easy Rider-keep the main thing the only thing.

Without Jesus there is no gospel. There is no forgiveness of sins, for there is no savior. There are no healings, no being born again. No Good Friday, no Easter. No empty tomb, and no Holy Spirit to come upon you. No baptism, and no first century, or other century church. Without Jesus, the whole universe changes. Keep that in mind the next time someone says he was only a great teacher. Mormon, He is God, not a brother to Lucifer. Read the Bible. Jehovah Witness-He is God. And there is a hell-but also a heaven. Don't bring life down to meaningless and nothing by taking a loving God out of it. God tells us-even the fool says there is no God. Only in mercy does He not mention you by name. I love you enough I will.

Next time you ride, enjoy being the easy rider that Jesus died for. Enjoy the freedom of the open road, or any road you happen to be on. Forget about time, and enjoy the ride. Like a true nature's child, we were born to be wild...but as a child of God we can be born again. Picture me as I ride into the sunrise...and you thought it was just a motorcycle movie.

And I hope you don't think Jesus is just another man. Life may not be an easy ride, but I wouldn't care to travel it without Him! I think I'll just go for a ride. Easy. Rider. And Jesus.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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"for who could be a better consigliere than my Father?"

Tom Hagen was family. Santino, aka Sonny, as Italians used to nickname their first son, found him living on the streets, and brought him home. The family took him in, and raised him as a Corleone, and despite his Irish-German heritage, he grew into the family, became family, and assumed his new found heritage. But in times of trouble, when wine or anger bring out the truth, Sonny blurted out "at least Pop had Genko, all I have is you!" Referring to the Godfather's counselor or consigliere, although Tom was like family, and the family lawyer, he was adopted in, and not even Italian. He had all the blessings, and all the power that came with the Corleone name, but didn't have the name. He was still and always would be a Hagen.

But the wise old Don knew much more than Sonny ever would. He understood because he himself had been taken in when forced to leave his native Italy. He understood how Tom would have an allegiance to the family who saved his life, and a debt that he knew he could never repay. So the only way Tom could honor the Don was by his dying devotion to him. He could call him Pop like the other sons, but to Tom he was much more. He was Tom's salvation and would also be his Godfather. But because of his relationship as a son, he always had ready access to the Don, and his relationship with the Don may have been more than Sonny's. Sonny was born into the family, but Tom was adopted in, despite all his sins and past. But in an interesting twist, the Don never formally adopts him, out of respect for his real father. And Tom would faithfully serve the family, and Michael, except for a short period when the Don would counsel Michael. As Michael said, "who could be a better consigliere than my father?"

Matthew 25 tells us that we were all once strangers until Jesus took us in. When we repent and give our lives to Him, we are adopted, or grafted into the family. We have all the love, respect, power, and access to the throne of God in heaven as the ones who have known Him for five or fifty years. No earning of respect, or making your bones with Jesus, all things are granted to you upon salvation. All our past is wiped away, and like Tom Hagen, we still have our old heritage, and old earthly fathers, but now have a hope and future and a relationship with our heavenly father. But unlike Tom, many do not take full advantage of our new found freedom in Christ. We still act like we are heathens, and the most we do is fill a pew-sometimes. We have this inheritance, that unlike Tom, we refuse to enjoy. When Tom used the name Corleone, it had power and authority, backed up by the Don. Do we use the name of Jesus the same way? Do we have faith in God to take us through tough times, or do we fret and worry as if still strangers? Jesus calls us friends if we do as He asks-love. Do we, do we really love our enemies like He asks? Do we trust Him when their is no evidence of Him? Do we love and respect Him? Do we have an allegiance to God the Father like Tom had to his Godfather?

When tested like Michael tested him, do we forego personal gain, and remain loyal to God, no matter what the cost? Do we really have the sense of family and love that God brings to us? Tough questions, that take a passionate heart to answer.

The Godfather is fiction. Jesus Christ is real. Today you will be face with decisions, and situations where you need to call on God. Will you find Him to be the loving Father He says He is, or will you just cry out to Him, and then lean on your own understanding if you don't like the answer? Questioning God is like telling Him you know better than He does, in any situation. We are told to trust, and obey. Not question Him or negotiate for a better deal. For what deal could be better than the one who saved your life's offer? You see Pop may have had Genko, and Sonny never appreciated what he had in Tom, but we have Jesus. Have you underestimated His love today?

Take full advantage of your new heritage today. Seek God, listen to God, trust God, and obey God. When confronted with having his signature or his blood on a new contract, a bandleader chose his signature. When confronted with all the sins of mankind, Jesus chose to shed His blood for us. He gave it all. What will your choice be?

For who could be a better counselor than your heavenly Father?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogpsot.com

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