don't lean your bike on the glass window

As kids we used no measurements for distance. It was five blocks by Schwinn to Dutch Treat, aka the Sweet Shoppe, where we went to buy our daily rations of candy, at 5 cents each. Comics were 12 cents, MAD was a quarter, cheap, and Fudgicles and Creamsicles were 7 cents. We knew John the owner, and he knew us, even knowing some of our dads. We were real impressed one time when Scottie Aldinger came up a nickel short, and John said he would get it from his dad. We didn't understand credit, we did understand a free candy bar. And most change was given without the cash register being opened, it sat on a edge and change was given freely without benefit of cash register in these pre-sales tax days. We knew never to lean you bike against the window, they could break although no one I knew ever knew anyone who knew anyone whose bike had penetrated the glass, but we just laid them down, in the dirt, knowing they would be there when we came out.

The shorter trip, by a block, but which included a steep viaduct was up to Crestwood Cupboard, or the Cubbard as we called it. Art owned it, an old house turned into a store, and we remember him mostly as passed out drunk, and not waiting for our change, pocketing the extra candy, he would never know. He drove a 1950 Buick station wagon, we called the Art Car, and also had a Coke machine with 10 oz. bottles, and a Pepsi machine that sold cans-big time in our world. The Cubbard was strictly a man's world, as no mom would go there, it was a pretty rough place. And with limited places to lean your bike, the gas pumps would have to do. Very few ever got gas there, Art was gassed most of the time himself. But there were times you went to the Cubbard, as the Sweet Shoppe was so far away, and the extra few minutes riding time cut into play, very important as a kid. And we figures all this out without statistics, mileages, or cash registers. Time had no measurement, unless you were in school, and then it took forever for the bell to ring. Somehow that rule never applied to recess, that went too fast.

A generation later the Cubbard is gone, a Russian gas station is there. The Sweet Shoppe is gone too, empty on my last trip to the Fatherland. Even a 7-11 has been built where the Amoco station used to be, with mom's sitting in their cars waiting for their kids to come out. No more nickel candy, even penny gum costs a quarter there, and no one rides their bikes. The guy behind the counter wears a name tag with a name you cannot pronounce, and no credit extension for those who forget to bring enough money. Many other things have also changed in the old neighborhood, the Esso is now Exxon, where we used to fill up our bike tires. Meekers the garden shop is now a strip mall, and even Friendly's closed. DelNero's Gulf is gone, where 25 cents bought a gallon of gas for the lawn mower, and Towne Car Wash remains, which used to have a Judo School in front of it. So much for culture, it's all gone, or different. And the kids today don't know what they are missing. Just a bike ride away from home, within 5 blocks was life, roads to explore, candy to buy, and comics to read. and I feel a certain sadness for them...

Today kids don't leave their bikes laying out in front of the stores, if they ride at all. Dollars are what used to be cents, which makes no sense. We don't know each other, just passing and nodding, and the car wash costs $10. And now martial arts has replace Judo, how trendy. No wonder kids grow up so fast, they miss childhood, and that great opportunity to grow up at a pace commensurate with their age. Looking forward to leaving elementary school, going to Jr. High, then onto High School, each stage a new door of experience opening up, while another closes behind them. We had no big goals, how to spend 15 cents for three candy bars was enough. We learned math by fives, and then by twelve's when comics entered our lives. And learned sex from Betty and Veronica, war from Sgt. Rock, finance from Richie Rich, and life from MAD. Where are today's kids getting their education?

One thing sorely missing from today is forgiveness. I can remember friends being taken to see Art or John when they screwed up, or got caught with two candies stuck in a pocket, oops. And apologizing, and banned, maybe a few weeks passing before they were let in again. We would fight among each other, and then minutes later be friends again.
We were kids, and we trusted our parents to be adults. To do the right thing, just not too hard when it came to spanking. I listened last week as a friend told us of her kindergarten daughter and her best friend fighting. And how the parents got involved, and they are strained when seeing each other, but the kids are back to being friends again. They forgive and forget, and then go on. Without special lessons, or DVD's telling of who or how to forgive. It seems it is built into them, until a parent comes along. The Bible calls it pride, and Jesus tells us how it hinders us, and causes other problems. We hold grudges, "do you know what he did?" often the crowning blow calling for execution. And you wonder why your kids are angry? Or why society is so mad with each other? Even the pathetic plea of Rodney King went scoffed at, no wonder so many repeat their crimes. I even know a ministry that claims to "let God sort them out," rather than showing true compassion. And we wonder why things are like they are?

Does the scriptural advice of holding no grudge against any man when praying mean anything to you? It does to God, and to Jesus whom He sent to forgive you. I have advised married couples for years that the five words to a better marriage are "I'm sorry," and "I love you." Simple, and to the point, no hindrance to forgiveness there, for we have all sinned and fall short of the glory of God. And when you ask forgiveness, the burden is lifted, and on the other person. And then you can both ride to the Sweet Shoppe together, just not leaning your bikes against the window.

The gospel is simple so that even I can get it. Jesus once told a woman " your sins are forgiven, go and sin no more." Much more loving than hearing all your indiscretions read before a judge in court. So next time you encounter anyone who has cheesed you off, offer them a handshake of love, and forgiveness. Eliminate pride and watch the blessings flow. Even off them a candy bar, show them you care. What you sew is what you will reap. Just don't lean your bike against the window. The shortest distance between joy and anger can be two little words away.

Where sin abounds, let grace abound even more. Which leave time to decide where to ride to today. Art's or John's, may all your choices be as simple, and rewarding. Now, is it Betty or Veronica?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

a song of the road

My latest ride is a 2013 Triumph Trophy SE, the big one. It is the deluxe touring model, with electronic suspension, TES to electronically adjust for passengers and bags, an electric windshield, ABS, traction control, heated grips and a sound system with USB and 3 power outlets. All standard, wrapped around a great Triumph Triple motor, lots of power. It still has two wheels, and is fast-very fast. And I have enjoyed riding it, no one else has one! Yet. But it has a radio, and I refuse to listen to it! Especially while riding! And having tried it once, on the 22 heading over to BA Moto, I must say I don't get it. Why would you want to hear anything but the beautiful music that the engine makes? And for those thick of head about helmets effecting your hearing, you are right, and wrong. They do effect your hearing, as when the face shield is shut on my Arai the music could be heard better without outside interference. But I was still on a motorcycle, and after about 30 seconds at 90 mph, I still prefer the sound of the triple making power. Keep the radio, the active suspension, and the windshield-I wanna ride a motorcycle!

I am known for my dislike of windshields on motorcycles. And this one being adjustable, I can raise or lower it to get rid of the buffeting. Sorta like rolling up the windows in a sedan, the buffeting goes away. So I have been riding with it in the lowest position, and it isn't too bad. For a windshield. Overall I must say I like the bike, but would I buy one? No, I prefer my Bonneville, or a Speed Triple, more bike in a lesser bike package. But for the next 1500 miles I will suffer on...I just had to ride a Trophy, and now can say I have.

When Rex and I rode to California in 1982, I met him in Prescott. All we could think of was warm weather and riding Hiway 1, so I put put together a set of earphones attached to a pre-walkman cassette player. Trying to listen to the Beach Boys to get me even more psyched only lasted a short while-I missed the road. And sang just as well in my head, where the best songs are kept anyway, without electronic enhancement. And the roads were great, the weather as expected, and I ended up throwing my sound disaster away. I didn't get it then, and I still don't get it now. If you must have a radio, take the Buick! Wouldn't you really rather have a Buick, if you just have to have music? And most of my motorcycle radio stories over the years are not good ones. Who wants to sit at a light next to a too loud song pouring out of a motorcycle? Too many complain about our loud exhausts,lets not help them along with our bad taste in music, too. Free Bird sounded good the first coupla times, but over and over, there has got to be as side 2. Or and eject button. Even off/on or volume would be welcomed. Sadly one time at Biker Church, a man who called himself a pastor, was sitting with his radio blaring-way distorted. A man stopped to see what Biker Church was all about, and when this pastor wouldn't even turn down his music so we could talk, they both rode away. Oh yeah, that's a church I want to attend. And please, I know all that are called Pastor are not like him. Keep the song in your helmet, and don't interrupt the music in mine!

But it takes different strokes for different folks, so we must endure some more than others. God had this problem with the Israelites leading them to the Promised Land. They didn't listen, turned their backs on Him, and hated the food, at one point willing to go back to Egypt and be in slavery over manna-which means what is it? Rather than endure the promises, they rebelled, and so God kept the whole generation our of the Promised Land, including Moses. Only two men would see this Land, Caleb and Joshua, because when sent as spies, along with others, they all saw the same giants, but these two men believed that God could slay them. Trusting God, He allowed them in-the next generation. They all had heard the voice of God, but only some-these two obeyed it. And gained entry. No cruise control, freeway off ramps, or fast food. And no sound system to drown out the voice of God.

But it doesn't take loud volume to miss God, or to not hear His voice. His voice is discernable throughout the background of urban sounds, and even over the loudest radio. It is distinct and can be recognized from a Harley, or an old BSA, or even an inline 4. And many do hear it, and even some obey it. But some hear it as just another noise, and try to cancel it out. Turn up the music, remove the baffles from the pipes. Sometimes it is so quiet His voice is the only thing heard, yet some can't stand it. Since God has never left you, it only makes sense He is on a motorcycle with you. He is among the loud music and pipes, and yes, still loves you. If only we had like Jesus said "an ear to hear Him."

Maybe the sounds of the road intrigue you, they do me. They welcome me, and put me in a safe and secure situation. But I still hear the voice of God when riding, and I know it. I have even been rightly accused of obedience, sometimes, and welcome hearing from Him. And you know what, He loves to hear from you. So become part of a conversation with Him, and watch as you grow in Him. And as you get to know Him better, you trust Him more, and the blessings increase. True, He knows the best roads, but you have to listen. Did you know that after 40 years of wondering in the desert, the Jews were only 11 days walking distance from the Promised Land? Or about 45 minutes by Ninja? Are we that close, yet missing it altogether?

Tune into Jesus, today. Before you leave the house. Turn off the TV, radio, and even your teaching tapes. Sit and invite God into your morning, and watch as the best songs you ever have heard appear in your heart, with no sound system except the Holy Spirit. As the day takes on a different attitude when spending time with God. And how even a short ride seems to take longer not due to traffic, but because you don't want it to end, so you take the long way. On better roads. Just you and God and the beautiful music you make with Him.

Today I am going riding, with no radio, and the windshield down. The suspension set on sport, cruise off. Arai on, and tuned into the Holy Spirit. The 2013 Triumph Trophy, at dealers soon. Jesus Christ-available to all and each right now. Why wait? Who needs assists from man when you can have it all with God?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biekr.blogspot.com

why settle for a place in the hall when you can have a whole mansion?

You guys tend to smarter than the average bear, you're reading this, so maybe you can help me with this one. Please explain to me, so I can explain it to the younger kids, the difference between right and wrong? Not so easy, is it. Take sports for instance, when Roger Maris broke the Babe's home run record in 1961, he was vilified for it. He had extra games, played at night, etc. And for 40 some years it, his record was unbroken. Then Mark McGuire and then Barry Bonds both it more, in the same amount of games in the season. But we find the Babe is in the Hall of Fame, but not Roger. And when the votes were cast for this years Hall, not one person was chosen. Not Bonds, McGuire, or Sosa, all big hitters, nor Roger Clemens, Cy Young Award winner multiple times. Their records were real, but their reputations tarnished. They used steroids, and although not admitting it, look at their before and after pictures. And their actions in the court and before the press, and just like OJ was found innocent when guilty, so are they, and the public sentence can be far harsher than any court or Hall can administer. We watch as Lance Armstrong finally admits to being a steroid junkie. Remember Lyle Alzado-he died from them. We watch Joe Paterno and the Penn State football legacy go up in flames because of Sandusky and his perversion-but he's the coach, we can't rat him out. Maybe life in jail isn't good enough for him as a punishment. And the NFL after going on a witch hunt with negligible proof of head hunting, accusing the Saints and others of placing a bounty on hurting opposing players, then backing off after the damage is done, dropping all charges, no wonder no players have respect for Roger Goodell and the NFL. We sit back and honor Junior Seau, who commits suicide from too many hits in the head, we watch as Ali shakes as he walks and tries to talk-not quite the same shuck and jive he used to become the greatest. But perhaps the greatest joke, travesty, or irony is Pete Rose. Betting is OK in sports, just not on your own team. And baseball's best hitter will never be in the Hall, maybe a social comment on both of them. And when channel surfing last week, watched part of his reality show, Hits and Mrs., where he is going to marry this Eurasian women with two kids, and the young boy has never heard of Pete Rose. And Pete fails trying to help him, at baseball, as the kids ridicule him. We turned it off when the bride to be complained about her breast enhancements-to much reality for me. Is this what reality has become? Now, can you explain right and wrong to me? Help!

After Peter, James, and John were on the Mount of Transfiguration with Jesus, He told them not to tell anyone. Not to brag, and they didn't. Yet when He confronts them later, and asks what they were talking about, they say nothing. Because they were talking among themselves about who was the greatest! They were there that day, the three of them. Now God wishes us to use all of the talents He has given us for greatness, or He wouldn't have given them to us. But for whose glory? And at what cost? His answer may surprise you, simply put, "the first shall be last, and the last first. And you must be servant to all." I'll bet that upset them, "but we were there!" Statistics are nice, book sales, BMW's, trendy clothes, and yes, motorcycles too, but all pale when compared to God. All those things will pass away-hard to think of money or cars as wood, hay, or stubble. Although some bikes I have ridden may qualify. Just how important is yards gained per carry now?

When our natural instinct is to pump us up, place us first to be successful, Jesus turns the whole thing around. Placing God first, gaining glory for Him and not yourself wins the race. The race that God has set before us called life. For the true measure of greatness is found in how we serve God. Not what we think we should do for Him, but in obedience, found through love. Keeping the commandment Jesus left with us, "love the Lord with all your heart, soul, and mind. And your neighbor as yourself." No drugs needed for that.

So what is your ambition? Who does it shed light on? And what does it leave in its wake? Ask Mark McGuire if it was all worth it. Ask OJ. We can't ask Junior, but his words from the grave speak volumes, if we care to listen. Jesus also asks "what does a man profit if he gains the world, but loses his soul?" We may not all be Hall of Fame material, few are. But we all have the choice to have our names written in the Book of Life. Sadly some struggle and fail to get into the Hall, when Jesus promises them a whole mansion. Now, how would you explain the difference between right and wrong? Maybe it is as simple, God forgives, the world doesn't. A clear example of why I rather have my name be recorded, than a record setter. Records are meant to be broken. Some are still waiting to get into the Hall, I have the keys to my own mansion. And your answer is....

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

vacation eyes

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I believe that you should take full advantage of the word vacate which makes up the heart of vacation. Get up, get on, and get out. And so I do, and have, and will continue to do so. Sadly I speak with too many who just stay home, not even resting or taking advantage of time off-it is meant to cause you to rest, not just sleep in late. I'm told, "it's the same everywhere, why would I want to go there?" And maybe they are right. If you're tired, catch up on your sleep at work. But just getting out of town, seeing new things and riding new roads gets me excited. Riding is very restful. And with so much to see, how can you just stay home?

A few years ago with the friends I made on Torches, we set out to find the perfect small town that doesn't have winter. Too many people out there to get you while riding, we prefer back roads with names instead of numbers, and family type restaurants instead of chains. Small towns where the library stays open later than the stores, where everybody knows your name, and knows you, but still likes you anyway. A place to call home, where taxes are low, and so is crime-why is it high taxes and high crime go hand in hand? A place where even as the new kid on the block you feel welcomed, and like you have been there for years. And we looked, for thousands of miles, only to come up empty. Weather always played a big part, you can't beat the roads in Wisconsin, if only it didn't have winter. The Rockies are beautiful and green, there must be a reason why they are and the desert isn't. So we started dropping things from our list of the perfect, and soon found out that where we live just turns out to be the best place. Not our #1 choice, but the best place for us. From Alabama to Oklahoma to Pennsylvania to California, home is where we live and it is the perfect place for us. Go figure....

But a major consideration of moving to the perfect place is us. Any neighborhood I ever moved into changed when I arrived. Motorcycles started showing up, accepted by many, but changing the personality. When I was younger it was late parties-which when I had to get up early I could understand why they weren't welcome. Kids playing in the streets, and more cars parked in driveways, the neighborhoods grow, the town changes, and we forget that we do along with it. And that the small town we want, exists only in our dreams. If I could make a big income there, why would I live in a big city? And weren't all cities small towns once? If it's that good, why don't more people live there? And if this town is so perfect, why would they let me in? Truly, when seen through the eyes of one on vacation, things are different.

How many times have we become disillusioned with the church, and decided to go elsewhere? Looking for that perfect church, which may be there until we show up. Not realizing, or not wanting to realize, that we need to change too. Maybe, just maybe we aren't as perfect as we like others to think. Maybe we are the problem, and the solution. And just like the perfect small town, there is a reason why some churches stay small, and some grow. The real question is do we stay small, or do we want to grow? So on a personal level, are you all you could be in Jesus? Have you matured to the point of perfection? Do the waters spread when you enter them, or is it people just avoiding you? And if you wonder why the church you are in isn't growing, could it be you?

A few years back I asked a pastor how his year was. He told me they had met all their financial goals. And now I see why the same church is in trouble, and people are leaving. It isn't about money, or we all would be millionaires. And programs, policies, trendy meetings, and perspectives don't grow the church. ONLY Jesus does, and we are told that unless God builds the church, we labor in vain. Why do we think of church growth in numbers as opposed to Jesus? Why can't we fellowship where God wants us, not where we only feel comfortable? So when God led us to another church, some at the old church were mad, or hurt. "What did they do wrong? What did we do wrong?" When all we did was obey God, instead of the church.

The reason too many are at odds with God are they confuse God and the church. We are the church, God's people, and we have a less than favorable history. When we fail so often God gets the blame, when really it is us, despite Him. So looking for the perfect church, just like looking for the perfect small town is often in vain. When we should be looking to God. Where the only perfection to ever be found is in Him. So..unhappy at church? Ask God, then act on His answer. You may find that you have to change, that the church is alright except for you. Or you may need to get involved, remember that great harvest with the few workers? Or maybe it's time to change, to go where God leads. In every case, it starts with you and God, and ends with your obedience, and again God.

Those towns are out there. And I still visit them, yet find that San Diego is the perfect small town for me-can't beat the weather. Yet I still keep my eyes open while on vacation. Keep your eyes on God, on things on high, as He says, and let Him lead. Stop, look, and listen-the perfect small town or church you have been looking for may be right where you are the whole time.

But in any case, sitting at home will never get you the chance to make the choice. Seek God, He's out there. The problem is you might be too! So seek perfection in Christ, not man. His way, not ours. You may be the only thing standing between you and perfection. Life can be a vacation-if only you go along.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

and all I got was a lousy t-shirt

Deep within each of us is the desire for life, and to live it to its fullest, based upon our desires, then our needs. When things go wrong, some call it bad luck, and for some if there was no bad luck they would have no luck at all. But when things go their way, they call it good luck, and others will claim that it is better to be lucky than good. I guess it's like oats, it depends on which end of the horse you are referring to when you mention them. But sadly these terms seem to lack belief in God, an affront to those who think they are so good they can control this luck they speak of, and don't need Him, or so bad they just ride out one disaster waiting for the next, blaming Him. They practice random acts of kindness, as the bumper stickers proclaim, denying that a loving God could ever be in charge. But would believe in Him more if He like the Genie in the lamp will acquiesce to their demands. A coincidence to them if He would, something else that does not exist. Sadly Satan can duplicate God to a point where you look away from Him. That is no coincidence.

But to those of us who believe, we call them blessings. And they all come from God. No such thing as coincidence, it is called divine intervention. And throughout the Bible they are mentioned, and like Jesus, they are never early, never late, but always on time. And there when needed, thankfully. But oft times we don't even see the need, or forget that God loves to just bless His kids-us. Good gifts, to show His love. And anytime He wants to bless me is just fine with me.

After the many miracles of my open heart surgery this summer, He continued to bless us in small ways. It seems His care never ends. And we always can use more of God, I can. For instance, staticians tell us the odds are very high that any two men in a city of 650,000 would be best friends. When you figure one is a prominent cardiologist, and one owns a motorcycle store, a Triumph store for that matter, it gets more unbelievable. But when one was my cardiologist, and the other my friend, the odds increase when I am included. Unreal? Good luck? How about a miracle, a great blessing, from the God who continues to bless me today?

After surgery I was in a survival mode, and rightfully so. I didn't even think of riding, or of riding again. But getting out in the public, I spent time at PJ's, the Triumph shop, and sat on bikes, and the rehab had begun. He even offered me a bike to ride when I got released, how cool is that! But more was to come, unexpectedly. We decided to drive to Santa Fe, and stopped at the Harley store to get t-shirts for Ken and Ned, who in their Black Sheep HD for Christ vests went to Durango incognito, and trailered my Triumph Tiger back. I was passed by a man I recognized, and it turned out to be John DelValle, who I first worked with selling motorcycles in Albuquerque-in 1976! We talked, he had wondered what ever became of me, and he knew what the pillow was, his wife had had open heart surgery. We caught up on who's who and then he turned us on to a great New Mexican restaurant. After Theresa had met a woman working there, who was in tears over my miracle. Another believing woman who knew this wasn't luck. And we knew meeting John again was no coincidence.

But God wasn't done, as after my five week check up I was released from all restrictions, and would be riding again in two more weeks. More miracles-these things should take up to a year or more. But one more stop at a Harley store and one more blessing, not coincidence was awaiting. I was walking around carrying my heart pillow, when two big biker types were giving me the once over. Walking over to them, I asked, "you are probably wondering just how tough I am to walk around with this pillow? Well let me tell you, I just had open heart surgery 5 weeks ago, and I am a miracle." Giving some details, the tall guy looked in amazement, while the other guy-big and wide, named Bam, turned away. He started to tell me how he was scheduled for some arterial work in six weeks, and was scared. And he had many questions, and right there in the store I shared with him and answered all his questions. We hugged and as we were leaving, about 50' from where we had met I heard, "Hey Mike, God bless you man!" It was Bam. Magical words to my ears, as the blessings, just like rain had fallen on the just and the unjust. A divinely inspired time again, with the blessings that only can come from God.

And I finally got a t-shirt, again a miracle and blessing to me. Stopping in Bobby J's, the Yamaha dealer, Stan who I hadn't seen for over 35 years gave me a free Bobby J's t-shirt. I have always said Albuquerque was a great motorcycle town...

Believe what you will, I know the truth, and it is called Jesus. From getting me to Durango-a miracle, to Life Flight to Albuquerque to unique surgery, to biker and Cardiologists being best friends, to two old friends meeting over 30 years later, to Bam!, to Stan-and all those in between. No such thing as coincidence. Just a loving Father looking out for His kids. Showering them with blessings. Who was not surprised by any of it. Some would call it luck-I prefer Jesus. Nothing random about His love. Let Him shower you with it today. Psalm 1 states "blessed is the man who walks with God..." Funny, it never mentions luck.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

in the final moments of your life

"Thunder on the Mountain

Tread gently on our hills, be aware of where you are. You are welcome here among us. We were quiet once, secluded and alone. These mountains and our checkered fields are not much changed. Their appearance endures in much the same way as it has been for a very long time. Something is different now. It cannot be explained or defined. Our world is shattered and we have been touched even as the entire world has been shaken. From the terrible events of that September morning have emerged Giants who are specially honored here. Strangers to us all, they have become the Heroes of our towns, our people, of our nation and the world. In the final moments of their lives, they demonstrated courage, strength, purpose and commitment. Their message is clear: to be free, completely free, let no one, let no thing take control. We are Captains of our Destiny, Masters of our soul. We can make a difference in our own lives, we can make a difference in the destiny of the world.
These Heroes of Flight 93 have hallowed our land. We honor them and hold in our hearts a special gratitude for what they have done for us all. Their relatives and friends have walked among us, and for awhile we shared their grief. Our lingering grief is the sadness of the Nation and it will make us stronger and more determined to adhere to the principles that have made our Nation great. These are the very principles guiding the Heroic Passengers of Flight 93. Theirs is the Spirit of America, the spirit of human nature to be free.
There is a sanctity here. Be aware of the silence in your heart. Remember what they have done. Treasure the gift they have given, together with so many others who have demonstrated bravery, so many of whom will never be known to us. Honor the sacrifice they have made, and take from here the memories of your life. Honor this land and this place. It is sacred to us now. We see our sky in a different way, we travel our countryside in awe. There are tears in our hearts. We will remember the Thunder that has shaken our mountains. They traveled our sky for a moment, they have touched our land forever.
Tread gently on our hills, Welcome Visitor, tread gently. You are on hallowed ground."
The beautiful words you have just been blessed by were written by my friend, fellow patriot, and unknowing evangelist, Fr. Alphonse Mascherino, aka Fr. Al. They are found on the Flight 93 memorial website, an invitation to all to visit the vision God gave him after 9/11. A humble man, devoting himself to Jesus, who using the vision God has given him has allowed the Holy Spirit to minister to untold thousands over the years. A man with a similar vision of Billy Graham and Greg Laurie, but on a very humble level. Providing an arena for people to come and be blessed, while remembering the miracle of Flight 93.
I first met Fr. Al in 2005 when on Torches Across America I contacted him. He asked, not knowing me, to speak at the services, as many bikers were showing up, and he wanted them to be welcomed and feel welcome. As one of them, would I help to minister? And I became part of the vision, and was able to be blessed, and bless others at the chapel. A place I encourage all to visit. A place described better than I could by the opening paragraphs.
Over the years most of our communication was via e-mail, and staying at the cottage God had also provided via a miracle. Licensed as a bed and breakfast, he obtained it for his friends to stay at while visiting the chapel, and we have stayed many times. No charge, again God would provide, as He did so many times for this man who drew no salary, but truly depended on God for all his needs. A man who trusted God quietly, and was always marveling at the love of Jesus, and the miracles. He had been healed of three individual cancers miraculously, and last year opened the chapel on Sunday afternoons to all churches-bring your worship team and worship, then a time for prayer and healing afterwards. A man who had run against the tide as a Catholic priest, and was asked to leave his post when he served communion to believers who weren't Catholic. Who with another Catholic rebel were planning on buying up old churches, and letting all denominations use them during the week, in depressed areas where the churches had folded due to no money, and the people still needed a place to worship. A man who often wrote asking me for prayer, and who when wrote asking me to pray for him, he was offered the position as bishop in another Catholic group, wanted me to pray because I encouraged him. He once told me he marveled at how well I shared Jesus without pressure to others a the chapel. And who encouraged me by his answer-"the same God who offered me the position, will be the same God who will see me fulfill it." How many enter into ministry so humble? And are so successful A rebel among rebels, and last night when I found out hospice had been called, I felt sad. I will miss my friend, but will see him again. A long line in heaven to see him no doubt, as so many lives were touched through him. His will be a humble place, still pointing them to Jesus, with Jesus getting all the attention, just as it should be.
So please pray for my friend, who loved the Lord and liberty. Who when a young man visiting the Liberty Bell was told not to touch it, but did anyway, scraping a piece of its wood under his fingernail. A rebel for freedom from the start, who was able show true freedom in Christ. Please pray for the Chapel to continue, operated solely by donations. He never asked for money, if you do it wouldn't be a donation, just like you can't take an offering. And visit it soon, and often. I will miss my friend, but will just take the time until I do to minister as he encouraged me, until the next e-mail or phone call, this time from heaven. Reread the lovely words, and tread lightly-just as the Holy spirit does. Like 1 Corinthians 13 tells us, that love does not demand its own way. But after spending time with it in the person of Jesus, you see why it doesn't have to. Love will do that. Now can we?
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com
flight93chapel.com

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engineered to go the distance

The ad did its job, it got my attention. "ENGINEERED TO GO THE DISTANCE. Baggers ride a lot of miles." Showing a leather clad biker on his stripped down bagger, the tag line led me to believe it was about guys who went places, who rode into the sunset, but here was a guy without pack, without jacket, without helmet, and without any indication he was going on an extended ride. He was even parked in his garage, and this over chromed, too clean for the highway bike was not what I pictured when I read "to go the distance." Short distance? I know guys on Gold Wings who fill up once a month-just out of habit. While others have over 200k miles on their bike, and have no plans to trade. So what is a lot of miles, what is a touring bike, and what is a tour? And what do they have in common with the ad?

People don't know what to say when they see our 955i Tiger, our touring bike. Before the Adventure bike caught on, we were touring on one. Soft suspension, long travel, great handling, good brakes, light weight(for a touring bike), and it gets 45mpg@80mph! With the detachable hard bags, we go for weeks, and time zones. But still it isn't called a touring bike by many. When first riding, my CB350 got me out of town. And out of state-6000 miles in five months, when I bought a real touring bike, a 1972 BMW R60/5. But without bags was it a touring bike? When I got the R75/5 with bags maybe that was, but I put more miles on the 600. And moved from Jersey to New Mexico on my R90S, no bags, the first sport tourer. So tell me, what is a touring bike?

On a quick seven day ride from New Mexico to Pennsylvania, all I had was a small duffle bag, a gift from Cycle for subscribing-remember those cool gifts? I rode the same bike to Canada with Christopher on back with just a tank bag and knapsack for 14 days. I rode my Nighthawk 650 cross country the same way. And Theresa and I rode over 55k miles on my Sprint RS, a sport bike, all over the northwest. Touring without all the weight, and adding fun to the miles every time we hit the curves. Even one extended 300 mile afternoon, we all switched bikes, I had Theresa on back. We were on my Sprint ST-with bags, and rode an Ultra Glide-no room and it vibrated, lots of weight. And Mike's Gold Wing was smooth, but not as smooth as my triple, handled great, but again with the arm chair seat restriction was limited on space. And they used more gas than I did, paid a lot more for their bikes, and well, we won't even get into the prices to service a Wing or a Ultra Glide. Money not spent on maintence was spent on the road. Now, just what is a touring bike?

It must be all about the ride, it is for a lot of us. Like the Harley shirt proclaims, "if you have to ask, you won't understand." When really if we ask, they can't answer, they don't understand. And not just the HD crowd. From time to time I meet those who ride, and we share ride stories. Good stuff. And I also meet those who when they find out I am a Christian, so we share the Lord. With many viewpoints, just like there are many ways to tour. But what is a Christian? Much confusion over that today. The media tells us it is one who belongs to a major religion. Or goes to church, except for Muslim or Jews. Some share they are born into the faith, or my parents went, so do I. Since being a Christian involves Christ, let's ask God, via the Bible. But to be a Christian you must:

1-admit you are a sinner. 2-repent of your sin. 3-believe that Jesus is the true son of God-Deity, and died for your sins. That He rose again. 4-ask Him into your heart, and receive forgiveness of your sin, and gain eternal life. If you have done this, then you are Born Again, a Christian. If not, take a moment to spent with Jesus. Ask Him into your heart, not a religious ceremony, some do it in church, some on the side of the road. Jesus is wherever you are. And welcome to the family! You are a Christian! According to God, who set the the whole thing up anyway. And just like many choices to tour, their are many churches. And you will find one that fits you, and just like the perfect touring ride, you will go many places with God you never knew existed.

So just what is a touring bike? It is any ride that takes you on roads going places. Maybe just an afternoon, or all summer. Maybe across town, maybe all 50 states. Alone or with a group, it expands your horizon and stirs the soul. Maybe that is the freedom that we who ride enjoy, better than any words, and it cannot be explained. it must be experienced.

Just like Jesus. The best relationship you will ever have. No words for the joy, it is beyond that. Even beyond understanding. He must be experienced. By you, not through someone else or some clever ad. Give Him a try today. Take a ride with Him and ask Him questions. Spend time in the saddle going places with Him. Jesus spent His whole life on the road. Maybe that is what makes it so appealing to me. Jesus and motorcycles, Jesus and touring, it can't be beat. Jesus and anything-make that everything, hang on for the tour of your life. Jesus Christ-engineered to go the distance. No matter what you ride or where you go.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com