you're on my mind like a song on the radio

Desert racers have a term called "clean air," or "running clean," which means they are out front, with no one else's dust to eat. And they can not only see ahead, but behind them, and any cloud of dust approaching them is another racer making time on them. On our recent road trip in the car, I was reminded of clean air, or rather the lack of it, going through LA and points north. I don't mean the smog, but the clean air, or lack of it on the radio. When in a car I like to listen to local stations, who tend to play different songs not based on any preset format. Clean air let's call it, whatever mood the DJ is in, we can either rejoice in it, suffer through it, or change the station. And with so many so-called Classic Rock stations to choose from, they all sound the same. Until coming home through Santa Barbara, and we hooked into a small station for a while. Playing non-formatted music, Sgt. Pepper to be exact. And not just LSD, or A Day in the Life, but played three songs of side one-for you old album types, Fixing A Hole, Getting Better, and She's Leaving Home. To me some of the best on the album. And it took me back, to a time when FM was young, and so was I....

WABC was the hot station in New York, Cousin Brucie, Scott Morrow, and HOA lit up the dial. But a new style was forming called FM, and in the late sixties WNEW-FM became the first station to have no format. You heard groups like Chicago Transit Authority, before they became CTA, and now just Chicago. You heard the album cut of Light My Fire, not the gelded AM version. Quicksilver Messenger Service now just Quicksilver, Blood, Sweat and Tears, Lighthouse, Gordon Lightfoot before he could read your mind, and Hendrix Band of Gypsies. Music like Ten Wheel Drive that got you moving, all classics before the term went mainstream. I remember the night they played Abbey Road, both sides, non-stop, the day it was released. And we all were amazed, truly the Beatles good-by album was the best. Never gonna see that again. We listened as we heard music, not just songs on the radio. We were mesmerized by In Memory of Elizabeth Reed, and Whipping Post by the Allman Bros., and amazed at the harmonies of Poco. We heard horn sections, brass, and drums making melodies, with the sound of a leslie induced organ filling my soul. Whoever would have heard of LOVE, their Forever Changes album every bit as creative and exciting as Sgt. Pepper? We learned bass lines could be rhythmic, that Ringo perhaps was the most under rated drummer, and songs could flow one into another-it was music, and it was musical. And these three songs on this nameless station, while driving in a car opened up the floodgate of memories. If music be the sound of love-play on!

But not all stations play music, some are just bad, reminding us of how far music has fallen. I still wish I could buy a filter to keep both country and western from my radio. Or how I am reminded of trips across the Midwest, and listening to 5000 watt stations, with advertisements telling us that Louise's Get Gas and Eat Here will be closing at 7pm for her niece's birthday, but will open again at 6am as always. I miss the old ads that were so bad they had a charm of their own, and after a few hours of hearing about the sale at Briscoe's, you almost felt bad you couldn't make it. Two ends of radio, but both moving the soul. Making the foot bounce, the heart sing, or just becoming a new friend to a new town. Somehow although only listening, you were a part of it. No strangers here, just old friends we haven't met yet. With the best music yet to come, although it has been here before.

I find many times the Holy Spirit works like this. I keep looking for answers, and seeking up and down the dial of life. When the whole time God's still and small voice has been coming through. A familiar voice, a song I know, but sometimes seeking a song that I haven't heard before. Or one giving me a different alternative, one that is easier, but not as rewarding. But He is always broadcasting, long before we're up, and long after we go to bed. We are never out of range from His signal, yet it can be cluttered up by dirty air-stronger stations making a louder sound, but not producing the music only Jesus can. Sometimes a good beat, but when the song ends the feeling does too. It is only the spirit of God that can keep us going, who can make our hearts sing, and sing along with Him. It is only in the spirit that all the other noises are cancelled out, and we hear the voice of God purely, His master board using every range within our hearing, and some we have never heard before. It is only through God we can go places, see things, and hear things not available to the untrained or unsaved ear-it is only God who can stir the soul, taking us much deeper than any emotion. It takes Jesus, and a relationship with Him, and looking forward to hearing Him and from Him. Classic God if you will-not some prepackaged CD sold to anyone who will buy into it, but fresh and new every time you hear Him. The songs He plays are just for you, until you get together with other believers, and find out again, they are just for you-all of you.

God was for clean air long before smog became a problem. Or dust clogged your throat, or AM radio clogged your mind. Set your dial on Jesus, and let the good times roll. Hear the drums, dig on the harp, and the harpsichord. Groove with a bass line you never heard, and find yourself in a harmony with the one who created music. No 45rpm version, or AM version-you get the whole song uncut. You get truth it the way it was written, and the way it should be played and lived. You get Jesus!

I still like the classics, just not someone else's idea of what I should like. God knows, and has a whole set written just for you. Tune in, sit back, and enjoy the music. Switch off the TV, sit with Jesus and hear it all. And later gather with friends and groove on His love. Like the DJ once said, "put it in the first groove and let it wail!" Never knew Jesus was so groovy, huh? Classic love-24/7. Playing in hearts everywhere-set a preset for Him today in your heart. You will not be disappointed.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

ride 'em, don't hide 'em

I subscribe to a classic motorcycle magazine that advises "ride 'em, don't hide 'em." I like that, as I have always believed that. To a certain extent. Let me explain. The main purpose of a motorcycle is to provide transportation, it needs to be ridden to be functional. And as a victim of MMD, Multiple Motorcycle Disorder, I try to exercise all my bikes on a regular basis. Some moods take me back to the 1978 Suzuki GS1000e, when other moods call for the Bonneville. Yet other times I just gotta get it on with the Street Triple-something about the front wheel coming up that still excites me. Add into that two up on the Tiger, and the various press bikes I ride, and I rather ride than hide, 'em. Different moods for the same road, and each time the road is ridden on a different bike it can be like the first time. Entrance speeds, exit speed, and leaning way far too over in the curves makes it more exciting. And when I encounter someone who rides for the economy of it, as in "I get 75mpg," I think they miss the point. If it is a matter of economics, car pool, use their car. Ride your bicycle, even better mpg. They want to reduce our way of life to a common sense argument. What they fail to realize is the freedom in riding, and also the fun.

How many of you who commute in a car take a longer way home, just for the ride? Or to spend more time in the car? Those of us who ride do. And even get home sooner than you do, fully relaxed, and with a smile instead of a frown on our face. When asked "how was traffic," we reply we took the alternate way home. Do you know how many mpg you get at idle while stopped in traffic? Anything more than zero is wrong. Yet we get treated like second hand citizens, by a crowd who professes to know and care, but doesn't understand, and could care less. Ride for fun? You mean, I have to hang up my cell phone while riding? No way...

Fun is only good if it is enjoyed. Maybe that is why you never see a motorcycle parked in front of a psychiatrist's office. Therapy-we got it. Peace of mind, ok with me. Economy-you already spent too much on your car. The ride? Aha, remember it is all about the ride. The bikes, the people, and the roads. Great times even when nothing is going on. Fun can be had at 35mph on the right bike, or at 125 on another. And this year we are seeing the reemergence of small bikes. 250-500cc, which when I started riding were big, but now are small compared to 1400cc Ninjas, 103 cubic inch Harleys, and 1200cc BMW off road bikes. But with the size and power, they must be ridden harder to reach their limit, something not needed on a smaller ride. And like riding my Bonne, I am much more rider than it is bike-I can ride it to its limit, knowing I am safely within my own. And still having fun.

Now if fun is only good if you enjoy it, why aren't Christians having the most fun? We have Jesus, all our needs met, eternal life promised, and security in Him on earth. So why worry? Yet so many do, and when listening to a mother fuss over her son needing a car, she asked me, "don't you have kids? As if that makes it ok to worry. Yes, I do, and get very concerned at times, then go right to God. I let Him handle it before I do and I screw it up. I explained that to her, and added, "if their was anything in worrying for me, I would highly recommend it." And I would, but there isn't, so I won't. So go riding. For just like I subscribe to "ride 'em, don't hide 'em," I feel the same way about Jesus. Take Him with you everywhere, not just on Sundays to church. Don't hide your faith, but let it show in your life, giving style to your life. Don't look at all the negative things, the rules, or the laws religion places on you, enjoy the fun of knowing Jesus and riding and living in the spirit.

But how will I know if it's ok to have fun? God gave us a conscience, you'll know. Just look for the flashing lights, you'll know. And just like you will know which motorcycle is right for you, after 100 yards are you smiling? You'll know. I have ridden many bikes that perform, but weren't fun. Also some that my friends make sport of me on, some Harley friends call my Bonneville a moped, until the first throttle is twisted, and the first corner encountered. Too bad they can't see the smile inside my Arai. I'm having fun, at half the price, and twice the bike.

Like riding, Jesus is personal. So spend some time with Him today, get to know Him. Loosen up and enjoy the day with Him. St. Augustine once said "accept Jesus and enjoy life." I like that. Don't get bogged down with religion, but enjoy the freedom of the ride with Jesus. See more, do more, enjoy more. "Let the good times roll." He calls them blessings, happinesses.

Hey that last one just might make a great ad for motorcycling! All roads lead to a destination, only those of us who ride and know Jesus enjoy the everyday ride-and finally to heaven. Ride with Him today before fun becomes illegal. Have you ever heard of any law that added fun to life?

love with compassion, and a smile,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

beasts of burden

I love old trucks. And for me that means pre-1965, before I could drive and trucks were relegated to tasks, jobs, and other non-pleasure activities. They weren't called work trucks, just trucks, as that is what trucks did-they worked. Back when accommodations were sparse, and they were designed for work. Rubber mats, no radio, and rough rides. And as much as I like old cars, given the choice between an old 1960 Chevy pickup or a 1969 SS396 fully restored, I'll take the old truck, rust and all every time. Seems old trucks reflect daily life, like horse and wagons that proceeded them, these beasts of burden worked until death, then were set out in a field to fade away. Not forgotten, just forgotten about. Replaced with something newer and better, yet I wonder why old trucks seem to last, while new ones are so readily replaced?

Trucks of my youth I remember are an early fifties canopy truck, a dark Chevy, selling meat in my Grandma's neighborhood, the clanging bell announcing meat for sale. When Hetfield Avenue was repaved, B model Mack trucks hauled the asphalt. When Algonquin Village was built, a suburban development, late fifties ford pickups were everywhere, blue for carpenters, gray and white for plumbers. Mr. Pillar across the street had a 1957 Dodge pickup. I loved all the dump trucks building roads and hauling dirt around town. I can still hear the gear whine while under full load, then the air brakes when they stopped. I always wanted to drive one, or at least ride in one, they were so cool. Tow trucks, we didn't need flatbeds yet, were cool, hauling old wrecks, or responding to dead batteries. So many memories, and looking back at a slice of Americana-watching as the sixties unfolded, and America grew. Semis and Jake brakes, the smell of brakes at the bottom of Jugtown Mountain, the smell of diesel, and the smell of diesel exhaust-good stuff. A patina that seemed to be factory installed and only got better with age-or use, whatever came first. Knowing the difference sound between a Ford six cylinder, or a V-6 GMC. Knowing that a Dodge worked hard, but not as hard as a Ford, and not as hard as a Chevy. International, Mack, Kenworth, and Peterbuilt-all with a single purpose-work. So simple in purpose, yet so complicated in design. Hard work never killed an old truck, they just got old like their owners, and faded away. A far cry from today as the F150 outsells any car model in the US of A. and I even have two trucks myself, considered mini-trucks compared to their huge big brothers, but the same size I remember from 50 years ago. From beast of burden to beast of play to retirement out in a field, they have changed. Oh for one last ride bouncing in the front seat of an old truck, speeding along at 30mph, windows down, head out the window. What do dogs know about riding in trucks we don't? Did we change them, or did trucks change us?

We got the news last night that Penny's horse Barney had to be put down. He was a show horse, and definitely not a work horse, such is the world today. Tractors and diesel power have replaced horses, and they find their way into our hearts as riding partners and friends. So I feel bad for her, losing a friend after 17 some odd years. I can relate as we had to put Trigger down long ago suffering from spinal meningitis. It hurts, and some may think "it's only a horse," but it signals a relationship ending. A time when only memories count, as the new ones end. A time of sadness, and an emptiness that words cannot describe, nor fill. Barney was fed, ridden, shoed, and vetted out for a long time, and now an empty corral sits where he once stood. Keep her in prayer.

After I did Lee's funeral a few years ago, an old Marine wrote to Suzie telling her of my performance. He related how he had been to many Marine services, but cried at this one. My words telling the crowd that it was "OK to weep as Jesus wept," touched him. He didn't know he could or should. But now sees Jesus in a different way-a man of compassion, who cried with others as they cried. Who made it personal in death, but even more personal in life. And in a year of my Dad dying, open heart surgery, a house fire, and Andrew's MX accident and surgery, it is nice to know Jesus cares. That He has taken my burdens, because He cares, and loves me just as I am. How He comforts me, and how I know He will comfort Penny. How He listens to our stories, and memories, and has time for us, meeting us where we are, coming down to our level. So I encourage all who have had a loss, or are enduring hard times, give it to Jesus. Let Him shoulder the weight-he can do it. Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those that weep. And to Glen and Penny my empathies go out to you, over the loss of your friend. No words will express how you feel, only Jesus knows, and only Jesus can comfort you.

Old trucks, old horse, and old friends. Some beasts of burden, some just a beast, and some a burden. But precious to us all the same. It's Ok to mourn, and cry. It is also OK to share the memories and reflect on the good times. The rides, the roads built, and times spent when nothing special seemed to be going on-just life. God gives us these memories as a gift to remember,and He records many memories in the book He has on us. Good only, the sin is gone and forgotten. No more weeping, the tears are wiped away. With only the sad, heavy eyebrows over the headlights of a 1960 Chevy truck to remind me.

Patina is a word that only comes from experience and being used. You can't fake it. Let the patina of knowing Jesus shine through today-no facades. Your new truck will be old someday-and so will you . Only Jesus will be the same. A comforting thought, as in this world you will have tribulation, and it is easier to look back than look ahead. Only in Jesus are the best times yet to come for those who believe. Keep on truckin', or riding, or galloping into the future, knowing that Jesus has your back. And your front, and all around you covered. Let your patina show as Jesus will provide all the shine you need. A beast of burden hung from a cross. Don't put Him out to pasture....

An empty garage can be filled, and an empty corral refilled-but that empty tomb can never be replaced.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogpsot.com

one night stands that last a lifetime

Yvonne was my friend Debbie's little sister. She was a pretty as Debbie, an A student, head cheerleader, and everyone just knew she would have a great life. As a high school senior she had a choice of colleges, but would lean towards UNM so she could still live at home, and be near her church. She was an encouragement to many, until one night she made a bad decision that altered her life. She was too intimate with her boyfriend, and now was pregnant. Turning to her parents for help, she found none, in fact she was told to leave the house. Forced to find a place to live, she quit school, took a job, and found an apartment. Finally graduating, but not with her class. One bad night would change her life forever, and her perfect dream was over. Abandoned by her family, she stuck close to the only one she could trust, Jesus. She had the child, despite her friend's best advice to abort-one night shouldn't ruin her life, and was a single mother. She chose life, the right choice, and chose God-an even better choice.

Marcie was a young junior in high school when she thought she loved a young boy. Looking for love she didn't get at home, a one night fling ended in pregnancy. She was then forbidden to come home-oh the shame of it all to her family, and sought help from the church. A couple there, took her in, and she suddenly had a church full of family. I was head of the youth group at the time, and we always joked "you better not have the baby on Wednesday, that's no excuse for missing church." So when she called me on that Wednesday afternoon, I was not surprised, God has a sense of irony. "Mike, I can't be there, I'm in labor..."she cried, and we prayed. I put the word out to the group, and we all met at the hospital in her room that night. She couldn't come to church, we took church to her. Where we weren't alone, for all the ladies in the church were already there, a church full of new grandmas for Marcie's child, and love filled the room. The youth group all wanted to hold the baby, and had many questions. And would help her along as she needed help being a single mom. What the devil had meant for evil, God worked out for good. Again, and like Yvonne, these two single mom's kept focused on Jesus, when the world told them different. Trusting a God they hoped would help them, when their parents wouldn't.

But don't become bitter to these girl's parents, for they too made bad choices. When they were most needed, they abandoned their daughters, leaving them at the world's mercy. Fortunately both girls knew Jesus, and knew he would never leave them, and He didn't and hasn't. Love still covers a multitude of sin.

We all know the story of the woman caught in adultery, and how the men gathered and wanted to stone her. It was the law, and although it took two, the man was conveniently absent. Which made no difference to the crowd, until Jesus arrived, and things changed. As He knelt down, and wrote in the dirt, theologians debate what was written, for scripture doesn't tell us. But as the crowd left, leaving only the accused woman, Jesus told her to go and sin no more. Love covered her sin, she had come face to face with love-in the person of Jesus. But what of her accusers? Why did they leave?

Just an opinion, but one to consider. Jewish law had a provision in it that if the accused was found innocent of the charge, the accuser would suffer the same punishment. Think what effect that would have on our judicial system today. Maybe when Jesus wrote personal notes in the dirt, others had had time with her, or with another woman. Maybe they fled in fear of being found out, and suffering themselves. Maybe they had just gone along with the crowd, and realized that they wanted no part of the consequences. What if their wives saw their picture in the paper and they were associated with her? How could they explain that? Maybe it was fear of their sin being revealed and the retribution that went with it that made them drop their stones and leave. But whatever the reason, when sin stood in the face of love, it had to flee-it cannot stand in the light. For when it is exposed, it causes us to make a decision, to turn to it in repentance, or run away in fear. Our choice.

We all have made mistakes we wish we hadn't, and some will affect us for a long time. Yvonne and Marcie both made a bad judgment call one night, but made the right one in turning to God. They found the love they needed, and the people who they needed to be there in their church. Jesus showed them mercy, sadly we must screw up to get it. But they now know a side of Jesus that few do, their great redeemer. And their heavenly father who never deserted them, although their earthly fathers did. So turn to Jesus today, put down your stone. For some it is the hidden sin that is revealed, for some more obvious. But your sin will find you out, better to find Jesus before it does.

Go and sin no more-great advice from a man who knew no sin. Who offered forgiveness, mercy, and grace. So put down your stone. Open your hand and heart to Jesus. Who takes us by the hand when we extend it, and holds it in His own. And example we all need to follow. Who looks past our sin, and only wishes to lovingly guide us. "Where are your accusers?" Jesus asked. What is your answer? Where are yours?

love with compassion,

Mike

mattthew25biker.blogspot.com

here's to you Mr. Robinson...

"Plastics, Ben, plastics. Remember them, they are the future," Mr. Robinson reminded young Ben Braddock upon graduation. And although that was over 40 years ago, this Graduate, and his generation had laid the ground work for a disposable generation. Mr. Robinson's generation had fixed things, very few things were thrown away, and only when they were totally unusable. Popular Science in its September 1948 issue lists "14 uses for Old Garden Hoses." Anything from a saw shield, to a pail handle and other common sense approaches are shown. A generation used to preserving and persevering shows why with a garden hose. And I wonder, were they green ahead of their time?

So much is said about being green, they spend millions of dollars advertising it, how many trees did that cost? And this weekend, I was shown the future, when in San Luis Obispo. A college town, and slightly liberal, the county has outlawed plastic bags. This once cost saving and easier than paper bag receptacle is against the law there countywide. Leaving only paper as an alternative, but there is a 10 cent per bag cost, a fee for them. You were warned about fees, first with banks, then with airline add-ons. Seems another cost cutting measure, to all but the end user is here. We chose to carry out our purchases, it wasn't the dime, but the attitude. And when some college clerk tried to explain why, I now know why the next generation is scary-he was full of propaganda, propaganda he was filled with. What would Mr. Robinson say to that, what would Ben say? Here's to you Mr. Robinson, heaven has a place....

Looking back I can now appreciate all the little things my Grandpa used to make or fix, and my Dad too. And I've only shown my kids where to go to replace things, no one repairs anymore, we replace. No more deposit Coke bottles, or 7-Up bottles, they too are recycled. We recycle rather than repair, and soon I see the water bottle, and other plastic recyclables going away. All in the name of green-does this mean the Coke bottle may return? As kids we would look for them, at 2 cents each you could keep yourself in candy for a day if you were industrious enough. But with each new challenge, comes challengers. Think of it as a better mouse trap, maybe that is why we now a stronger breed of rats than ever before. Build it, and they will come. But now they won't leave. Another good idea with ulterior ramifications.

And figure that the greenies will have a better way to do it electrically. Using more coal to burn to make more electricity. Hey Prius owners, did you know that coal is burned to make electricity for your golf cart? You really are driving a coal burner, hmmm? And so things are not always as advertised, big surprise. And get used to fees, to pay for all the progress that has been cancelled, due to free enterprise running amuck. Fees are the new tax, oops can't call it that. Oh well...

The Romans had tax collectors in the time of Jesus. They had to turn in what they collected per the government, keeping whatever they could overcharge as their compensation. For example, Rome says you owe $100, Levi, who became Matthew, and one of the disciples would charge $115, maybe less if he liked you. A discount on being overcharged. Such a deal. Yet Jesus had a simple solution to being a good witness, give unto Caesar the things of Caesar. He will provide, as He always did, and does. And so we should, but do we? Do we cheat on our taxes, as almost all good Americans do? Sure we hate to pay more than we should, but do we need to cheat? Again, God looks on the heart, not the wallet. Did you ever wonder why we pay a waiter a 15% tip, but only tithe 10%? Are we cheating God, or overpaying the waiter? Rules, laws, and more laws...how much for a ten cent bag? Will we see them discounted soon?

God loves a cheerful giver, in fact He calls them hilarious. Laugh out loud, LOL for those of you who can't spell. Give from the heart, out of the wallet. Always hurting for cash, maybe you tithe, reluctantly, but don't give freely. Or give out of abundance, unlike the widow with two mites. Again use Jesus as the example of giving, who gave it all for us. Way beyond what was His right, but His responsibility. Remember that next time you become cheap. Does the waiter give better service than God? Take the hint, you can't take it with you, but you can send it ahead.

Our lives need fixing sometimes, check yours for repairs before someone replaces you, or finds you're not needed any longer. Whether in church, or at work, or in your marriage, these things will need fixing. So fix them before they cannot be replaced. Or you find yourself paying a fee for what used to be free. Give generously to God, and meet other people's needs as needed. Teamwork-doing what needs to be done. As Jesus did, and we should. Before you go the way of the plastic bag...back to paper as God intended. Paper or plastic-works for buying too, not just what you bought to take home. Keep your life and relationship ship shape, the treasure of Jesus is too valuable to waste.

So here's to you Mrs. Robinson, and Mr. too. Jesus loves you more than you will know. He is the future, and the right now. How different if Ben had been told Jesus is the future instead of plastics. Jesus Christ, new and never recycled. Free book explains all-the Bible. See your church or a friend for a copy...before they too are against the law. Can't happen, did you ever think the words "paper or plastic" would be old school?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biekr.blogspot.com

things are different in a car

As I sit here this drizzly, cold morning, I have no problem shielding myself from the sun. It's out, but taken refuge behind cloud cover. And the ground is wet, I note that my neighbors are wearing jackets when leaving the house, this is not a normal So Cal morning. And due to the rain, and an overwhelming sense of common, we have decided to take our weekend getaway in the car instead of on the Tiger. A whole different mindset, way of packing, and an unusual travel attitude for us. Usually we are packed, light and smart, we even taught on packing a motorcycle for a trip before, and I marvel at all the things we think we need since we will be taking the car. things I know we won't use, and wouldn't take on the bike, but somehow feel needed in the car, or maybe it is just because we have a trunk we think we need to fill it. At least if the sun does come out, we can put the top down, not the same as on a motorcycle. But open air touring all the same. Or so some non-rider told me.

It is a novelty for us to travel by car, just the opposite of most who ride. We are confronted with decisions like what do we listen to on the radio. Two people, two opinions, two choices of music. We get to talk with each other, and miss the great conversations we don't have while riding. Simple pointing, hand gestures, or a poke in the rib that would alert each other to things seen will be absent. Even my speed control, Theresa squeezing me when I go too fast is gone, the Mustang has cruise. We will take longer, traffic becomes a problem, I still can't lane split with the car, and the weather just doesn't matter. Cold and rain-I'm safe inside. Hot, turn on the air. No helmet head, and I still instinctively wave to other guys riding when in the car, some habits die hard, some never do. We will still visit some motorcycle shops, and the welcome will be different, not where you're riding to, but just a hello. A stranger instead of a fellow rider.

The fiscal impact on the trip will be considerable, as the Tiger gets 45mpg, the Mustang 20. Do the math at $4/gallon. Also in a car when we visit antique stores, we buy more since we have a way to get it home, I guess the good side is the shipping charges we save. Parking is different, whereas many places we park for free, we now have to pay, and park farther from our destination. We will stop at convenience stores for a Big Gulp instead of a drive-in and visit-we can drink in the car while driving. Real motorcycles don't have cup holders. And the list goes on and on, not complaining, but knowing today's trip will be different. I have to admit it, I am spoiled and blessed by riding, which brings up the question of you guys in cars, I don't know how you do it? The why is still your problem.

Riding gives us a freedom of the road that few know about, if you don't ride you don't get it. Instead of watching the weather, you fall asleep, it doesn't matter in the car. Is it cold or hot, in the wind you know, in a car I touch the window glass to tell. On a bike we look at the skies and anticipate the conditions ahead, in a car we anticipate being back on the bike, looking ahead to that. We miss the true freedom of the road, but yet we are still a road traveler. Freedom is like that to a Christian also. We have this great freedom in Christ to be who we are, and we are free from rules. I really mean religion, and denominations who fill us with laws, rules, and ways to live. Jesus gave us one commandment, and if we follow it, great things happen. We enjoy the true freedom of the spirit in Him, not in religion. Rules cost us more than freedom, they bind us and we are bound to follow them or risk embarrassment, correction, or ex-communication from the denomination. I have found the more rules, the more rules there are to break, increasing my chances to sin. I don't need any help there. And I find many times that when you have morals, you don't need the rules. Live for Christ, and you follow Him via the Spirit, not a code or canon. Jesus came to fulfill the law, and also to rescue us from it. Where the law pointed out our sin, Jesus offers redemption from sin. He forgives, and we go on. So to me, a car can be like religion, bound by the surroundings, and that is why we refer to them as cages. But a motorcycle reminds me of Jesus and the freedom He offers. All five senses are heightened when riding-you smell the air, feel the coolness in it, hear the music from your exhaust, see things clearly, not from behind a windshield, and taste the things around you. And so I ask again, you guys in cars, how do you do it?

I wish more people would ride, but there is not enough cool to go around-and while riding may not make everyone cool, it brings it out of most of us. But I really wish more people would call upon Jesus as their savior. And for those who have, call Him master, and Lord-follow Him on the great roads He has laid out, and the trips ahead for you. Enjoy the freedom that only Christians know, and live life knowing that wherever the spirit of the Lord is there is liberty. Freedom. All because you made the right choice to follow Jesus.

I don't make many road trips in cars, this will be a novelty for us. But already I know that once the weather clears, I will wish to be on a bike again. You can dress for cold, dress for rain, and dress for hot. In a car, you just roll up the windows. Religion is like that-life behind closed doors and windows-looking out, just waiting for the sun to appear-when the Son already has. Enjoy life to the fullest, bask in the freedom only Jesus can offer, and ride more.

God knows about travel, and about the ways to do it. Acts 1:14 He tells us they continued in one Accord. But Psalm 92:4 tells us we will Triumph in the works of His hands. Tell that one to your non-riding friends. Scripture tells us we will Triumph...also on a Harley, Honda, Suzuki...et. al. You others go through life like a car pool in an Accord. And you wonder why we really ride? You guys in cars, how do you do it? The real irony is Honda started out making motorcycles. Where you used to meet the nicest people. And ended up in cars. Try Jesus for your next ride...end up in the freedom of the Lord!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

carrying a concealed weapon

The word from my sister this morning is that Jersey is surreal. After having no power after Hurricane Sandy for over a week, they have five inches of snow this morning. Sadly what is surreal is very real. And for those of us just watching on TV, in the warmth of our homes, we mutter how sad, then change the channel. Add in temps in the 20-30's, this ain't fun. And when adding the scope of it, is almost unbelievable. Sadly it must be seen to be believed, and then the pictures don't tell the whole story. Keep these people in prayer, this is going to take a while.

Marie Antoinette has been famously quoted as saying "let them eat cake," after hearing the people had no bread. She didn't know they had no bread because of poverty, and had no cake for dessert, she was so far removed from society. And we are not much better, as some of the advice I hear bantered about is stupid at best, cruel at worst. I think of those warm hearted who while bundled up warm, pass by those who are cold. "Get a job, take care of yourself," they think, not knowing the situation they are in, and really not caring. And after watching the news for the past week, I find my heart is back in Joplin.

When the tornado hit Joplin last year, Andrew and I went back to volunteer. We had no idea what to do, but had contacted a church, who welcomed us, but was way overwhelmed. No one teaches you how to deal with disasters like this, they just tried to do too much. We found that the organizations trained and experienced in this were the best equipped, best organized, and most successful. So just background if you wish to help-

Although it sounds righteous to just dig in, you are dealing with wounded people, on their property, so get the ok first. In this age of litigation, either party could be sued if you got hurt. Plus, would you want just anyone going through your stuff, some personal? One day we split off from Operation Blessing, and cruised what was left of a neighborhood. We asked a group if we could help, and they wanted us. Our actions with a shovel and rake showed more love than this church had, they meant well, but got bogged down in legalism, and religious dogma. Remember that the best definition of teamwork is "if it needs to be done, do it," and so many did. Where do we start? Whatever is in front of you! A shovel or rake can be faith in action.

Another thing was we unloaded a 45' trailer of various food and survival items from a church. Much could not be used. Best advice, give money to Samaritan's Purse, Operation Blessing, or the Red Cross, they have the infrastructure to get 'er done. A few cases of water were nice, but trailer loads by the pallet were needed-every day! Many small gifts of items became more work as they had to be sorted, and much of it not used. Things spoil in the heat, and cannot be cooked or warmed with no power. I also met some who were there to preach the word, but with little or no success. Representing churches, or denominations, they found a very small audience, proving what Jesus said, "if hungry feed them, if thirsty, give them drink." We found just being there, and helping was a much better way to spread the gospel. We listened, they spoke. God knew the whole time. Our concealed weapon was love, shown when needed, not used to threaten or influence.

It has been said that you are either in the way, or in "the way," God's will. Sometimes it is better to keep your Bible in your pocket, but put your love out for show. The tell comes later. One family stands out, as they were not part of the OB list of properties to help. When we showed up, they had been away, and were not contacted. As I went over to visit, they all had stories to tell. I was shown the 2x4's that came through the walls. The empty space where a bedroom wall had been. A hole in the roof where an industrial electrical part had come through the roof, from miles away. I watched, as they went through stuff, papers and photos all over their yard, and listened more. When I finally asked if I could help, they were thankful, and when I asked if I could pray first, they broke out in tears. I quoted no scripture, but the husband rounded up his family, excitedly. "This guy from California is going to pray with us!" And I did, and then helped a little more. Then left, knowing what I had done was what God wanted me to do. Tears, hugs, and love-based on Jesus, a weapon so easily concealed, but readily available. Found in the handle of a shovel. I still pray for them, and will never forget that house on Chris Lane. They needed two ears as well as two arms that day, I hope I was able to provide both.

So to those who wish to help in the aftermath of Sandy, pray first. Then pray some more. These are people's lives, homes, and memories you are dealing with. Listen, then respond. Become a first responder in love. Ask what you can do, then do it. The little things are the most important, and the healing of the heart and emotions go well beyond any psychiatric help. It takes love, it takes Jesus. Keep your concealed weapon ready, and watch as God meets the need. True ministry meets the needs of others via Jesus Christ. Evangelism is not inviting someone to church, but introducing them to a savior. A provider, physician, and friend in time of need. So...as you go, preach the gospel daily. And when needed, use words. Give food to the hungry, drink to the thirsty, and shelter to the lonely. Get out and visit...Jesus taught in the temple, yet ministered on the street. A lesson to keep in mind next time you feel the need to go out witnessing. Let your life be the witness of Jesus in your life, add words when needed. A hug can go farther to show you care than any memory verse. Take out your concealed weapon today, and show His love. Don't let it take a disaster to see God's love in action. Except for the grace of God go I.. or you!

And little did we know a year later my son would be seriously hurt in a MX crash, or that I would have open heart surgery. Today is a great day to turn to God, and then show His love to others.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogpsot.com