just a coupla guys from Jersey

For more years than I care to remember, this blue Ford van sat on a long downhill on I-78 in Jersey. He sat there with his radar out, and picked off cars left and right, as he was in the median. And although he was there, and it was well known, people still sped through there, and easy target for him. Somehow I always managed to avoid him, but more than made up for it elsewhere. And in 1974 when the 55mph speed limit became law, I got 18 points in 12 months, 12 points means loss of license, and had to move to Pennsylvania using my grandparents address. This new law seemed like a good thing for revenue, as I got stopped at doing 56, 57, and very few offenses were over 60. For your safety, we were told, on a highway designed for 85mph cruising, that just months ago was safe at higher speeds. And so the story went..

Of course to commemorate the new lower limit, the motorcycle world celebrated by coming out with faster motorcycles, the Z-1, GS1000, BMW R90S, and even a six cylinder Honda. All could easily do 55 in first gear, but even the threat of a ticket, which meant higher insurance, and possible loss of license, see above, kept us within the limits. We just rode smarter, maybe a little slower, but smarter. Until one afternoon, three of us took off for the countryside in Jersey. Yes there is more to Jersey than the opening of The Sopranos. On this beautiful Saturday, Bouke was riding his Z-1 with the Yoshimura kit, the same one that at 105mph the helmet blew off my head, BH on his Dunstall Honda 750, and me on my R90S. I was trailing, these guys were really nuts, and at 100mph looking in my mirror all I saw was grill and flashing lights. Pulling up to Bouke, he had seen them too, he nodded at me and we took off, WTO! With BH following, and leaving the cop behind. Way behind, for it was a few minutes until he caught us when we pulled over. Getting out of his cruiser, he looked at the Dunstall, and said “that thing is fast,” looking at me, “that thing is faster,” and at Bouke, “that thing is a rocket!” And proceeded to talk motorcycles with us. It seems he rode, and had more affection for fast motorcycles than the 55mph law. It also turned out he was a Captain in the New Jersey State Police, and decided to let us off, but couldn’t because he had radioed us in. So he asked us what he should do, but answered it himself after checking Bouke’s plate, which was licensed to an old Bonneville. “You’re all getting tickets for improper registration, no points, and only a $15 fine.” We knew not to argue. And then he also gave us his card, with his home phone, if we ever got into trouble again. This man did more for public relations and motorcycle safety that day than all the other sermons I had to listen to when previously pulled over. He had us, but showed us mercy. And we gave him something, uncommon then, and very scarce today-respect. And never did pull out his card when needed, never wanted to jeopardize him or his position. Respect works both ways.

Mercy is an interesting concept. Jesus showed it many times in parables when those caught in sin were forgiven. It wasn’t a free pass, it was paid for by Him, later on the cross. But in His mercy He showed love, and set an example for us to use on others. And backed up with meekness, a fruit of the spirit, His power under control is a welcome thing in our lives. And in this pre-Christ time in my life, I was shown mercy, by a loving God, who I was still cursing. I needed more mercy, and He continued to show it, based on who He is, thankfully not on what I had done. Based on my record, I am usually borderline on even a good day, but thanks to His mercy and grace, I am forgiven. And live to face another tomorrow and all the trials it brings.

BH was later to lose his motorcycle license when he wheelied his bike for a girl, and landed on the trunk of a police car. I would lose mine for speeding tickets, but never at the fun speeds of that afternoon. Bouke, who knows how many ID’s he had on him, don’t ask. But God continues to show us mercy, and saves us by grace, a gift I don’t deserve, and couldn’t earn. Points never came easy for good deeds, I ‘m glad Jesus knew that. So He offers us grace, His unmerited favor. And when tempered with self control via the throttle hand, we never need to take advantage of it. Meekness again, power under control, makes us better riders, and also better Christians. It’s right there on the list before self control. Also after love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, and kindness, unless you need to be reminded. Good things, showing the character of God. And allowing us to be like Him.

Jesus said He will never leave us or forsake us. He was with us that afternoon at over 100mph, and here as you read this. Love will do that. And all He asks is that we pass it on. Just like the Police Captain that afternoon. On the side of the road. Where Jesus just happened to spend most of His time, on the road. Mercy is faster than a speeding ticket, so as the saying goes, “never fly faster than your angels can fly.” Or better yet, stay close to Jesus. Never leave home without Him. Worked for me, even in Jersey. If it works there, imagine how it can work where you ride.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

so what do you have under the hood?

In their iconic song “409" the Beach Boys sang of a four speed, dual quad, posi-traction 409! Bragging that “when I take her to the track she really shines,” and “she always turns in the fastest times”. And all the giddy-up from just saving pennies and saving your dimes. The romance of burning rubber, the smell of Sunoco 260, and the threat of the man just waiting to write you a ticket. Ahh, the joys of youth 50 years ago. When speed was king, their was no replacement for displacement and no substitute for cubic inches. Put the top down, get your favorite girl, tune the AM to your favorite station, and let the good times roll. Just waiting for the next red light and someone to pull up next to you and challenge you to a race. But the crossed flags on the front fender of your Chevy, with 409 above it, told them to back off, you had power under the hood, and weren’t afraid to use it. And all your friends were impressed, and so was your girl. Speed was king, and you had the most of it. Only a foolish MOPAR or Ford would challenge you. Pontiacs were a threat, but that little GTO was still a few years off. And to top it off, they even wrote a song about your car. “That’s me they’re singing about,” you’d tell your girl, as she snuggled close to you on the bench seat. With only the shifter on the floor coming between you. Oh for the good old days.

For those of you who don’t know, a four speed referred to the transmission, four on the floor, like racers had, not the three on the tree like your dad’s sedan. A dual quad as to four barrel carbs, drinking gas at an alarming rate, but building power at the same time. Posi-traction got the power to the ground via the rear wheels, remember those crazy burn outs! The romance of the road all combined into one package, and you behind the wheel of it. But what do those things mean to kids today? How will our kids remember their fast cars? No more four speed, dual quad, posi-traction, no more 409. Today it is replaced by a 6 speed auto transmission, electronically activated, that has learned your shifting points. Never have to take your foot off the gas. Point and steer. Even the steering is power, allowing you to keep your arm around your girl. Except there is a console between the bucket seats, and she can’t get close enough to snuggle. No more dual quads, as your car is now fuel injected, a fuelie in 1960 terms. Now again controlled by a computer. Self tuning your ride for all situations. No more posi, you have traction control. No more burnouts, unless you have it turned off. Power to the front wheels? And no more skids either, ABS has cancelled that. No wonder we don’t hear any songs about a “6 speed auto, fuel injected, traction control..." And no 409 either, now we are trendy using metric, and would be a 6.7 litre, but more realistically a 3.8, as engines now are smaller. No more Smittys, or dual exhausts. No capped headers, we sit in silence isolated from the world so we can hear our satellite radio. Listening to oldies. All alone, safe and secure in a vehicle with all the romance of dad’s car, yours being just a smaller version of his. So what do the gear heads of today dream about? What do they sing about?

Just 50 years before, they would sing “all I need is a fast horse,” now it is about horsepower. Hopefully always will be. But for every 409 on the street back then, there was a sleeper, with no emblems announcing what was under the hood. Maybe the lumpy idle from the cam would give it away, but in a four door sedan? And that is exactly what my friend did, put a race motor in a four door sedan, a 1966 Chevelle. Blue with roll up windows, and a turbo-hydromatic transmission, shifting on the column. No wide ovals, but an idle that should have given it away. And more than one sucker was enticed into racing him, and shut down as John pulled away from them. Soon the word was out about “look out for a blue Chevelle,” and the competition had caught on. But for that summer, four doors beat four on the floor. And we all learned to ask, “what’s under the hood?”

The Bible is filled with warnings of evil, and how to recognize them. Wolves in sheep’s clothing, and many who promise but don’t deliver. From those out to steal your money, and your soul, to those who seek signs, instead of God, we all need to be careful. It seems natural to seek God in bad times, we really need Him then, but in Deuteronomy we are reminded to not forget Him in the good times. How He took us through the tough times so we can be enjoying the good. But many forget, and claim they did it. Even Old blue Eyes sang “I did it my way..” But the successful Christian will stick close to God in all situations. For it is in the good times we are more vulnerable. We get proud and think no one can get to me, I’m fill in the blank. Never realizing that there are blue four door Chevelles out there just waiting to embarrass or defeat us. For the devil is devious, and can appear as an angel of light. Note the word appear, he cannot be one, but imitate one. Just as what’s under the hood’s best asked before you race, the 1John 4 tells us to test the spirits, to see if they are of God. Does what the person say match up with the Word? Do they recognize the deity of Jesus Christ? Beware the wolves are out there, in white shirts and ties, passing out literature about Jesus, just not the Jesus in the Bible. Even using His name in their religion, again not the Jesus of the Bible. So be wary of who you join forces with, whose teaching you sit under. And what they teach. Jesus tells us he is the way, not a way as Jehovah Witnesses lie. He is deity, He is God, not a brother of the devil or created as Mormons will tell you. They may even tell you they are Christians, but they know they are not, as taught in their churches. But will lie to get you to join their church, rather than seek God. And for them there is hell, whether they believe in it or not.

So don’t be afraid to ask “who do you say Jesus is?” Even Moslems will admit He was a great teacher, again denying His deity. He is God incarnate! Spoken of from Genesis 11 to the end of Revelation. And loves you so much He gave His life for you, so you could get back to God.

So beware of flashy sayings, trendy music, and promises not found in the Bible. Ask to look under the hood. You may be surprised as to what is really there. In Jesus you will find meekness, power under control. Posi-traction for the soul, no matter the engine size. So if someone asks you to race, and you notice his rear tires appear bald, they may be racing slicks. Remember the lesson learned of the blue 4 door Chevelle. It is what is under the hood, and in the heart of man that matters. Make sure Jesus is in your heart before you accept the challenge. Will you accept His challenge?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

suddenly it's the past-and I was there

I ran into Ray and Kenny at the Orange County Vintage Motorcycle meet in Huntington Beach yesterday. Held every month, over 144 of the loyal braved the 75 degree weather and came out riding. From the two Ariel Square Fours, one the People’s Choice Award, to a clean /2 BMW with Earles forks to many Triumphs, BSA’s, Nortons, and even a prewar Indian Scout, and a prewar-war Henderson, it was fun. Add in a few Velocettes, a six cylinder Honda, and all bases were covered. Ray has been around the So Cal scene for over 50 yers and many know him, and he still rides-fast. And has passed on his biking genes to his son Curtis, the fastest gun at Willow, and to his grandson Bradley, an editor at Sport Rider. Ad listening to the old guys tell the stories of racing down Fullerton Blvd. at 120 back in the day, and watching as many younger guys riding bikes from the 70-80’s, older than them, it was good time. Even a 1974 Kawasaki Z-1a with only 880 original miles on it, for sale for only $15,000. Of course the owner knew Ray. But as Kenny and I walked around, we laughed at how no one seemed to notice that we both were riding 2013 Daytona R’s. The only two in the Us of A! And felt invisible in the crowd! Just the previous day I had been surrounded at a motorcycle store on it, guys wanting to know all about it. Here it was too new to notice. Maybe the way it should be. But a quick trip back to when I started, and a reminder of how far we had come. Probably the only meet where vintage Harleys, the only one being a 1969 Sportster XLCH are outnumbered, and the new ones seem out of place. Why care for new nostalgia when there is plenty of the real stuff available?

But it was a good day, and after two hours of listening to old stories, commenting on bikes we used to own, and wondering whatever happened to You know who, the guy on the old Honda, I took off, completing my 200 mile round tirp ride with no problems. A feat not possible for some of the old bikes, or the older riders. How far we have come, and how we can still be invisible. Given the right crowd.

I have won numerous awards in my time. Salesman of the Year, Rookie of the Year, and won trips to Cancun and Germany. it may be true I have never come in second in a beauty contest, or first either, and a few years ago when moving my office, took down all the plaques and trophies from over the years. And threw the away. Somehow they didn’t mean the same to me anymore, and had no desire to keep them. Trophies can be like that, just like the right audience is needed for an old Indian, the right audience is needed to show your trophies. No one but Coca Cola employees would care about Coca Cola awards I won. It was time to move on, so I tossed them. No longer a part of my legacy, as those things no longer seem important to me. But while looking at restorations in progress, and some completed yesterday, I realized I had never won a Most Improved Award. Which to me were always misleading, as you have to come from near bottom to win, and once achieving Most Improved how to fall pretty far to be considered again. Fortunately Farrest Fallen awards are never given out, we just talk about them behind the person’s back. But I laugh at Most Improved Awards, as many achieve them, but have difficulties maintaining the level. In spelling there are always new words to learn, and old bikes will wear our again. Thankfully God never does, and holds all the awards for an Awards Ceremony in heaven.

I had been with Winzer only a year, after moving to So Cal, and they were about to celebrate their 10 year anniversary in Texas. Timing could not have been better to be Salesman of the Month for two months leading up to the celebration. I would meet men from all over the country, and many knew my name, but not me. After going on stage to get my awards, they made me wear a suit and tie, in fact the National Sales Manger brought an extra one in his attache just in case I refused to be seen none. After words those of us who had won awards were surrounded by many asking questions. Or just wanting to meet us. But as a group of 15-20 gathered around me, one asked, “what is your secret to success?” I answered him, asking three times “you really want to know?” And the anticipation grew. What is the secret? What sales school, or training film, or motivational speaker inspired me? But my answer was simple, “Jesus Christ. He makes all the difference in my life.” And the crowd thinned, faster than it formed. Faster than riding the Daytona. For my answer was simple, just like the gospel it represents, Jesus Christ. For He has made the difference in my life, and makes me who I am. And that is why some years later I chose to get rid of the awards. I choose to remember Him, to Him be the glory-not me. But yet He allowed me to win to share my testimony. Think about that one for a minute. Does your testimony give God all the credit, or is it all about you?

Old bikes, old memories, and old awards will fade away. Who Jesus Christ is never will. Cling to Him in good times and bad, while being most improved, or falling away. He is still there, with the promise of heaven. And delivering it here while still on earth. Someday in the future, someone will ride into a vintage bike meet on a 2013 Daytona R. And those of us will remember them as new, just as it should be. To a ne audience just waiting to hear our stories of going fast, and escaping death. Of cops outrun, bikes owned, and friends lost but remembered. Don’t let Jesus join the forgotten file. Keep Him fresh in your life, tell others about Him, share your testimony, He will give you the words and the opportunity. Just trust Him. Remember someone shared with you, caring on a tradition. This is one tradition worth passing on to the next. He will always be new to someone, He once was to you. Salvation, the only award you cannot win, but is a gift. No matter how old, how fast, or how improved-we all need Jesus.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

darkness on the edge of town

Riding east into Xenia, Ohio, the sun was brightly reflecting off my rear view mirrors. But up ahead was quite a contrast, as the sky was as black as night, and it was only 430pm-I was riding into a storm, and from the wind and rain hitting me in the face, I started to look for shelter. And then the rains hit-hard and fast, and before I knew it, I was riding in water over my foot pegs. So getting off at the next exit, I turned off onto the exit ramp, and as I rode to go under the over pass, I came upon a Mazda, with water over its hood, and up to the windshield. No place to stop, I kept going, around it, and rode through with water almost to the top of the tank on the Tiger-pretty high stuff on this dual-purpose bike. But somehow managed to keep going, leaving the Mazda in my wake. Going up a small grade, I pulled into a gas station, and parked under the overhang, as the rain only got worse, and then the thunder and lightning, cool stuff under any other conditions. Trying to pull off my helmet, the ground shook with a bang, and I saw lightning hitting the bowling alley in back of the station-about 200 yards away. Suddenly the gas station wasn’t quite the safe haven I had first pulled into, and as flames erupted from the bowling alley, I had to consider what was worse, a soaking or a burning! Within seconds, which seemed like minutes, fire trucks pulled up to the fire, and quickly put it out. I was not only amazed at how fast they responded, but how the fire still burnt in this storm. And how within this ten minute episode, I had blue and gray skies, high and low ground, fire and rain, and safety and imminent danger, all within a mile of each other. But I was safe, albeit soaked through my rain suit, and still had another 100 miles to my motel destination that night. Cold, wet, squishy, and hungry-not at all the plan for the day, and then the sun came out-and dried everything but me. I can still see the looks on the other diners’ faces at the Bob Evans as I sat eating my hot turkey dinner, while shaking. Everyone else in summer clothes, and not even a raincoat or umbrella in sight. And I wondered if the Mazda driver was among them, giving me the eye, maybe for not stopping to help. Maybe an episode for the Twilight Zone, but too real for me.

Wet weather riding is not a favorite among those of us who ride, but you know when riding back east, storms will hit. Afternoon showers on this September afternoon not unexpected, just uninvited. And as the skies got brighter, a not so dark shade of gray, I looked forward to tomorrow, with only a 20% chance of rain-hey that gave me an 80% chance of no rain. If only the 80/20 rule worked for weather. But I was safe, everything would dry that night, and after eating at Bob Evans, why don’t we have anything like this in California, I slept good. But was up early to the sound of thunder. Fortunately it was a group of Harley riders taking off early, so I rolled over and slept another hour. Just in time for the sun being my wake up call. The rains would wait until later, when I had no place to stop, so rode on-for another 100 miles or so. And for whatever reason I kept singing the Allman Bros. chorus, “you’re my blue sky, you’re my sunny day, Lord you know it makes me high, when you turn your love my way...”

Lord you know. Words to hang on, and words to trust in. Amazing in the entire ordeal, I hadn’t got scared, but only anxious, and that was when waiting to use the rest room while the bowling alley burnt. Somehow I knew God had everything in control, even though the skies, rain, fire, and fire fighters said different. I was more concerned at first for a woman in a black car almost backing into me, don’t hit my bike after all I had just gone through! But somehow I had this peace, one I didn’t get then, and don’t get know, but I knew God was there, in the blue skies, just the other side of the rain. Maybe there was some truth to the song, “Lord I know you make me high when you turn your love my way.” And in the storm, He was there with me in the midst of it, keeping me safe. He had taken me through the storm, not around it. Giving me a chance to see His grace and mercy at work. Not a valley of the shadow of death, but one that anyone with common sense should have been scared of, but I rode on. Jesus Christ in a life will do that. Urging you on, despite the odds, keeping you safe in the storm. And remembering the safest place to be is where God wants you-I‘m glad He didn’t want me in the Mazda that day. Or bowling either. But riding, and He was with me. Never leaving me, nor forsaking me. He was the rider on the storm with me, wet, cold, upset, but not scared.

I had survived the darkness on the edge of town. I had come through the storm, and would ride again the next day. In the rain, but then the blue skies, and warm weather would greet me, and all would be forgotten, and forgiven. Well at least forgiven, for another chapter had been written in my book of testimonies. But a thought continues with me even today, I didn’t get mad at God. I could have, so many blame anything they disagree on on Him. They get mad, try to take it out on His people, and even on Him. No end to stupid, maybe that is why it is designed to hurt. But a thought has been with me the last few days, He loves us so much, and I can’t explain it. It makes no sense, psychiatrists refuse to believe it, atheists deny His existence, poets write sonnets about it, and theologians dispute it. The Allman Bros. sung about it. But God’s love to us shows no wrath-yet. So to better understand it, He put it to me this way. “It is hard to make a fist when a nail is piercing your hand.” And it reminds me of Jesus. Whose arms and hands are open to us, never raised in a fist, or clenched in rage. He loves, and sets the example. Can we do the same in our reaction to Him? To others? How about ourselves, when the storms come and ruin our ride?

The evidence is found in the hands of Jesus. The nail holes are there. To show us love, to hold us up, to guide and point the way in the storm. So unclench your fists, and show the love that He showed us first. Trust Him, and guide others to Him. Let Him guide you. You may be entering a storm, sudden or not, and even though the sun is shining, a storm is coming. And only He will take you through it. Look to His hands, see the nail prints, and be glad His hands are open to help, guide, and love.

Besides, you can’t twist the throttle when your hands are clenched in a fist. Just a thought, from someone who has weathered a storm or two, safe in His hands. And after the rain, there is a rainbow, another open hand of God reminding us of His love. You only need a rain suit when it rains, never ride without Jesus no matter the forecast. Remember those open hands...

love with compassion,

Mike

nmatthew25biker.blogspot.com

one afternoon while waiting in line

While on a mission of mercy for my wife, a candy run to See’s Candy, I was standing in line with the other devotees, when the woman at the head of the line held things while talking on her phone. Now I and others have become familiar with the rudeness of others on cell phones, but this woman seemed to take it to the extreme. This was a small store, with only one woman behind counter, and four of us in line, but we got the benefit of having of having to listen to this woman discuss very personal matters of setting up an old woman who was near death for hospice. We all heard details that were none of our business, and that we really should not have been privy to. About the only thing we didn’t find out was her name, but all else seemed exposed to us in line. And to make it worse, she wenton for about five minutes, while the lady behind the counter was trying to fill her personal order. While Ms. Cell Phone went on and on, even making faces behind the poor See’s Candy girl who was trying to help her. Rude, indifferent, and self absorbed, it seemed the rest of us didn’t matter, and either did the hospice recipient. Again a strong case against cell phones and the rudeness that they encourage. I can only be glad that it wasn’t someone I know in hospice, and that this rude woman was connected with her.

On my ride yesterday, I watched as I ate a mother and her son eating next to me. They started to talk, his cell rang, and then he cut her off. So she picked up her cell and called someone, what a tribute to mother/son time. And this is all too common. I watch as people text while driving, almost cutting me off, and years ago I was hit by a man who was on his cell. Cut off his hands! But yet in our it’s all about me world, we all seem to have so much to say to those who don’t listen. Or won’t listen. So much talk about useless things, that important messages may not get through. Even when we called 911 a few weeks ago, it was rerouted from a central dispatch, and we were told to wait, there would be silence, for maybe a minute. Put on hold at 911? I could get through to hospice quicker! But yet we are self absorbed by cell phones, and communicating, just not good at social rules or at being social. Blame it all on Samuel Morse, inventor of the telegraph, precursor to the phone, “Watson, come here I need you,” was Thomas Edison’s first phone call, at least Sam’s first message posed a question, “what hath God wrought?” And today we are finding out, that many things that start out with good intentions go astray. From internet to cell phone we have so much information available to us, yet we have become a stupid people. Which is truly revealed when the power goes out, and people have to actually talk to each other-face to face Iwas amazed though at the response in the candy store to this woman. It was one of contempt for her. Anger from one man, who was insulted and embarrassed for the lady in hospice. How dare her personal life be paraded in front of strangers? The woman in back of me started the comments with “how rude, do we have to listen to her?” But the See’s lady’s comment was the most telling. “That was nothing, you should hear some of the things I hear. It is worse that a bar in here, all the personal things I know, and don’t care to hear about.” So where is this all going?

For years while in line, if someone is talking on their cell in front of me, I start whistling the National Anthem. Louder than they are talking. Freedom of speech works both ways. And have been given dirty looks, have had the offender talk louder, and asked to stop once, she couldn’t hear over my whistling. So I whistled louder, telling her I couldn’t hear my whistling over her talking. She called me a name in Spanish, and kept on talking, but softer. Point made. Yet these willing offenders go on, in church and meetings. While conducting a meeting once, a man’s phone rang, and he answered it. So I stopped, and asked can we all be quiet so we can hear better what is going on? And apologized for trying to conduct business while he interrupted me. He sheepishly hung up-point made. So, where am I going with this? Freedom of speech is a right under our Constitution. But not a responsibility. Better to know the difference than suffer the consequences. Take Jesus for example, under Jewish law He was convicted unfairly. He could have declared His rights under the law, but yet chose His responsibility to God, and went to the cross-willingly. Some theologians claim He was murdered, but He went willingly, choosing a violent death by crucifixion, to save us and reunite us with His Father, than claim His own rights. Setting a pattern for humility and love. But just imagine if He did exercise His rights? What if no death on the cross? Sure we would miss Good Friday, not celebrate Easter, and miss out on tons of chocolate consumed. But we would miss heaven, because He is the only way. You see love gives, He is the ultimate example. He also listened, and gave proper responses. And He is the original wireless communicator-it is called prayer. Try that one on your cell friends? Is His number in your cell’s memory? With so much to talk about, with so little to say, wouldn’t His calling plan be less expensive, and reap higher rewards? Jesus never dropped a call, His line is never busy, and it is private-no one is listening, or will interfere. Or record, listen in, or eavesdrop. NO communication with Him will ever be used against you! Now what rights do you have Jesus didn’t? And what responsibilities do you not have He did?

Someone is always listening, all cell phone calls are recorded somewhere-not for your benefit. So share Jesus, just like we did when our phones were tapped years ago. Must have really confused the DEA and ATF with all the kind words and praying they heard. Some sort of code, they must have thought at first, but love speaks no code. And it doesn’t interrupt either! So like the Proverb says, “don’t put your ear to the wall to hear your neighbor, you might not like what you hear.” God is always listening. May change the way we talk. Or use cells in public. He reads texts too. And t answer Morse’s question, based on a quote based on Numbers 23:23, “what Hath God Wrought?” The answer is Jesus! The ultimate communicator. The way to God. To heaven. See, someone is always listening.

By the way, my wife loved the candy. So it was all worth it.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

motorcycle therapy-the only way to fly

It was just about a year ago that I started to experience horrible pain in my upper back. It became the worst after riding a new 2012 Daytona R 675 all of 82 miles, and just the thought of getting on it again was too much to think. Having ridden on café style bikes for almost 40 years, I was very comfortable with the riding position, and just a year earlier had put over 1000 miles on a Daytona in just over a day. But the pain was excruciating, and so I called Mick and ended up taking the bike back in the truck. Not at all my plan, and not at all me. But the pain was to worsen, and after being misdiagnosed as having a pinched nerve, I finally ended up being life flighted six months later and having open heart surgery. The pain was from a combination of problems, among them a staph infection filling my pericardial sac, and an aneurism on my aorta, that finally caused my aorta to explode. AAA in doctor talk, no one survives it, but I did. I am a miracle. And early on after my surgery, never thought I would or could ride again.

But my healing became even more miraculous, and at seven weeks after surgery, I began riding again on my Bonneville. No endurance at first, and a 30 mile ride would wear me out. But as I improved, I finally rode all my own bikes, and by November, at five months after surgery, was again riding my first 2013 press bikes, first an Explorer, then a Street Triple. My confidence was rising, as was my endurance, and the miracle healing was to continue. And then in January, I was to ride my first 3000 mile month-I was better, but not quite there yet. Whereas 500 mile days used to be the beginning, 300 put me to bed early. But with new bikes to ride, I found the enthusiasm and the strength to ride six new bikes in the first two months this year, with an America, a cruiser style bike my ride until yesterday. Not my style, and after a 700 mile week, I was heading out and then the winds hit. Combine that with how uncomfortable it is, with no power, and add wind, I decided to take it back early-usually 1000-1500 miles is my goal. And I was looking forward to riding my old GS1000, which has been sitting at Mick’s since before Thanksgiving. So as I rolled in, I was glad to see Ray, who I hadn’t seen before my surgery, and hadn’t heard about it. We visited, caught up on each other, while Mickey dynoed a bike for David Searle, editor of Motorcycle Consumer News. We all got to talking, and Mick introduced us all, giving us all a hard time, as we are so old. Ray is almost 70, we should all look so good, and still very fast. Still looking for more power for his 167hp on the dyno B King. Mick is the kid at less than 50. Almost as fast. But as the three of us talked, Mick rolled out a 2013 Daytona R 675. This is all I have, if you want it. Do I want it? After his intro of me of how I rode more miles than anyone else, and would ride anything, I decided I had to. At least let me try. And it was with a bit of excitement, tinged with apprehension that I sat on it. What a bike! I had gone from a horrible ride to the best of the best! But how would I do? Could I handle the extreme riding position? An hour and 82 miles later I called him to ask how to adjust the shift light. A full on race bike for the street. I was back!

I started by praying a version of Ephesians 2, thanking God for the good works He has for us, I took off. Immediately both hips started to hurt, but that I would overcome in a few miles. Call them birth pangs, are rebirth pangs. I had gone from riding in a birthing position with feet forward to a fetal position, tucked in. And I was riding, and it felt good. And I had no pain! I was back, and had come full circle. The Daytona was just the thing I needed, and God had it ready for me to ride that day. Unplanned by me, but He knew just what I needed, I didn’t realize how much it meant to go back to where I had left off. I was healed! Amazing! And after putting only 100 miles on it riding home and church, I can’t wait until today. Just as God gave His very best in Jesus, He provided Triumph’s very best in the R model. Something I never would have wanted to attempt again, the memory of pain was that intense. But God has given me a passion to ride, and fulfills it in ways no one else ever could. We are more than overcomers. And today I shall again resume my rehab, on the Daytona. He keeps me in the loop with great bikes to ride, and I continue to marvel at Him and His love for me.

Being in the loop is a way of saying we are kept abreast of things. Knowing what is going on, and being kept up to date. It is almost essential in today’s business world, or even in social texting circles. But God keeps us in the loop via His spirit, and He calls it grace. His part is providing it, ours is accepting it. I ask people how many sides does a circle have? The answer being an obvious two-an inside and an outside, and it is better to be within God’s circle, in the loop. To be in His grace, as His plans for us are always better. But we have to trust and obey to see grace, and that is not always easy. It takes a step of faith, or in my case yesterday, a ride of faith. And while singing praises to God all the way home, I still marvel at His plans for me. And I can never be thankful enough for Jesus in my life. Whether working, playing, riding, or sleeping, He never leaves us, nor forsakes us for others or other things. And provides things in our life for our enjoyment, to show how much He loves us. But He is not only a benevolent Father, but the ultimate healer, as He healed me, and now has brought me full circle, back to my pre-heart surgery riding level. Almost, I need more seat time. Which is sitting in my garage waiting for me. Truth is, I am in fact better than ever, as now I have an even better appreciation of Him. Times of trials will do that to you. Where you turn in that trial determines how you are blessed. Are you building a testimony or offering excuses? And quite frankly, I don’t want to miss any blessings or testimonies, for you either.

To some it is just a dream ride, to me a reality. To the jealous a spoiled child, to God a blessed and loved one. To some an act of faith believing, to others a stumbling block. How you see Jesus is up to you. If in doubt, try trusting Him today. He will not let you down. But do it His way! Life ain’t Burger King. Long after He gives you the desire of your heart, He will continue to be the desire of your heart. From intense pain to intense joy, that is the ride many of us enjoy with Jesus. Stay in the loop with Jesus, pray daily, and think of Him during the day. Sing to Him in praise and worship, and if inside a full face Arai, well the joy is that much better. And although the circle may have two sides, the best side is still the inside. In the loop with Jesus. Banked curves when you need speed, and an infield to pit and rest. Let Him complete your ride today. Spend some time in therapy with Him today. Getting better never felt so good.

love with compassion,

Mike

mathew25biker.blogspot.com

"I'll slow down so I can keep up with you"

 I love Harley jokes. I also love Triumph, British, and Japanese bikes jokes. Add BMW, and I am an equal opportunity joke lover. I cannot tell you how many jokes I have heard about Joseph Lucas, the Prince of Darkness, of leaky Triumphs, and of BSA’s. And I laugh with them. But this last week things happened to me, we’ll file them under funny, because they are. But they also reminded me of some who are so prideful that they cannot laugh at themselves...so to quote an old National Lampoon Radio Dinner line, “you are a fluke of the universe, whether you can hear it or not, the universe is laughing behind your back..” Now I don’t enjoy group rides, I call them crowd rides, for mixed in among those that can, are those that can’t ride, and you only ride as fast as the slowest rider, or as good as the worst. Agreed? So this last weekend, we hooked up with our friends in Black Sheep, HDFC, and rode to breakfast with them. For Harley riders, these guys ride a faster than usual pace, and I was amazed when we were able to catch up to them. When we came up on them, Ned had been thinking of us, and was glad to see us, and us of them. But we slowed to 60-65mph in a 70mph zone, breaking rule #1 of riding, never let any semi trucks pass. With rule #1a being don’t let one of your own be the cause of a traffic jam. But we all made it on time, and I joked with Ned later, “I slowed down so I could keep up with you.” And we both laughed, as he is definitely not a Harley snob. They gave me a hard time apologizing, saying next time they will ride faster, so I can get out of second gear. Good friends, good humor, and we love it.

Now when a Harley guy tells a Harley joke, I guess it is OK, but when I tell them...look out. Wayne who rides an Ultra Glide, once told me that 95% of all Harleys sold in the last 10 years are still on the road. The other 5% made it home. Substitute Triumph, etc, and it is still funny. But my latest one is “Harley Davidson-The most efficient way to turn gasoline into noise, without the side effect of horsepower.” Maybe my new favorite, right after an early gem from Gordon Jennings, “there is something inherently wrong with an engine that makes maximum power at idle.” Loosen up and laugh, take a chance of getting bugs in your teeth...

Coming out after too much Mexican food one night, I encountered a 400 pound biker, named Tiny. How many of them do you know? Anyway, he started in on the Triumph jokes, and with more booze than brains fueling his jokes, I got tired quickly. But I was his audience of choice, so I decided it was time to join in, with a Triumph joke. “Why doesn’t Triumph make vacuums anymore.” I asked. “Because it was the only product they made that didn’t suck,” and he broke into laughter, gave me a hug, told me I was cool, and how he once had a Bonne. Must have been before he weighed more than the bike. And he went off telling anyone else who would listen to his new joke. And I was his new friend.

But I have a friend, who once verbally accosted me for making Harley jokes, he rides one. I was told I was jealous, and couldn’t afford one. His must have been one of the ones who made it home. I was told how prejudiced I was against Harley, and would never be able to ride one. “If he had to explain, I wouldn’t understand.” But he did. But I did understand one thing he didn’t, and may refuse to. We are all brothers, riding is what is our common denominator. So when I take the newest press ride to see Spud at Biggs HD, he looks at it, and explains how we have the same common disease, motorcycles. And how I have an open invite to ride any bike on the floor whenever I want...how many of the elite have that invite? And I am known as the Triumph guy! Back to Ned, it was him and Ken who drove to Durango to get my Tiger this summer after my open heart surgery. Both active in Black Sheep, and Harley riders, I am forever thankful, and when I thanked Ned, I asked “weren’t you embarrassed by trailering my Triumph?” he explained they wore masks. So if you saw a blue Tiger being towed by two big guys with masks last summer, now it all makes sense. We ride!

We are in the midst of a great revival in the church today, one that will usher in the return of Jesus. Church attendance in many places is growing, and many are being saved. But bringing new ones into the church is exciting, but growth only occurs, numbers wise, when other churches aren’t raided. Don’t take from one, to feed another. Cannibalism of other churches is no way to grow. Or is just inviting people to church. Jesus taught in the temple, but ministered on the streets. He went to the people, out among the lost. Nowhere is it found that He invited anyone to church. Yet so much evangelism is based on inviting people to church. Get them in, it is the Pastor’s job. Maybe that is why some churches are in decline, and some even closing their doors. Evangelism, like witnessing, is part of our life. It is Jesus in us, not put on for an evangelical event, street witnessing, or even church. It is who we are, just as we are what we ride. We all ride, the common denominator, just as Jesus is what makes us a Christian. Sitting in church won’t make you a pew either. And if it takes riding slower to fellowship, I will. Just as I am delighted my Harley friends reached out to this Triumph rider. How my close friend, Fr. Al, a Catholic Bishop just died, big on uniting the different denominations. Just like my two Lutheran pastor friends, Jim and Phil embrace bikers and welcome them into their church-on their rides! Opening the doors to all says more than any message about love! So to my friend, who I know loves me, just not my jokes, I forgive him. And wish him well, reminding him that you are what you ride, in my case a Triumph! And that I will ride with him anytime, if I can keep up.

Maybe if we all concentrate on Jesus, and a little less on our differences, we may see the family grow even faster. Both of God and of those who ride. Heaven will not be brand or denomination specific. Why not get a practice run in for our eternal ride, and love someone today. Laugh at a joke with others, get to know them, and find a great chance to show them Jesus, where no preaching would. Invite them on a ride, listen to them, they just might have questions you have the answers for. And show them love, which is what we are supposed to do anyway?

By the way, did you know that BMW stands for Broke My Wallet? Or Bring Money with You? I’ve had five and speak from experience. Let your experiences be of Jesus. He took the time to slow down for you, because He knew you could never keep up, or do it on your own. And no matter how much chrome you have, it won’t make you a better rider. Better a God of Light than the Prince of Darkness. And the scriptures also talk about being in one Accord? Any upset Honda fans? And as all old Triumph owners know, we don’t change the oil, we just top it off.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com