if Congress made a plane, would you fly on it?

As a service advisor, and later a service manager, I was inundated with complaints. As I used to tell people, “ no one comes in and says my car is running great, and I have no problems. I just need to spend some extra money.” No to be sure, they have a problem, or worse yet a perceived problem. Maybe only a symptom, but it needs to be answered, because that is what we did. But many would seek the help of friends, who knew less than they did, and often compound the problem. Or give us bad press, sadly it was earned at times, and come in with a pre-diagnosed problem, that we were to magically hook up to a computer and remedy-for free, while they waited. They were the patient ones. Others would first consult that bastion of integrity, the Internet, and listen to many ignorant opinions of their problem, then tell us how to fix it. My answer once they admitted their folly, was to “right click it, and have them fix it.” And I was serious, their diagnosis, let them fix it, as any reputable tech would do. Another group would call, describe in great detail the problem, then want to talk to a tech, who would walk them through it over the phone. Not on my watch, my response was “the techs are here, the parts are here, and the tools are here. Along with the knowledge and experience to do it right. do you want to make an appointment?” And sometimes I would have my integrity, heritage, and professional standing questioned before they hung up, but I always held my ground. Yes, I wanted to fix their car, only correctly, not based on opinion, but on the facts. And so I often had to repair cars that someone else had incorrectly diagnosed, put on the wrong part, or messed up trying to save a buck. And they ended up spending more time, more money, with the added free bonus of aggravation thrown in for no extra charge. And we stood behind our work, ever stand behind an internet claim? Press 1 if you have....still waiting?

As cars get older they start to develop leaks. According to the Germans, their cars don’t leak, they weep. Like their owners when they get the bill. Feel better BMW owner? And British Cars just mark their spot. American cars, just add to the oil when the light comes on, no need for oil changes that way. But leaks will and do occur, no matter brand or country of origin. Physical law unlike advertising doesn’t care, a leak is a leak. And many would still argue the point, unsuccessfully. It is ten years old, with low miles, it shouldn’t leak. But it is, and does, gaskets dry out when the engine isn’t used that much. Can’t right click that one. And gasketing is not a perfect science-yet. Whenever two things are joined together, a seal is formed, that can leak. Which is why old Triumphs mark their spot. Take it up with your physics teacher, the class you skipped in high school wondering “why would I take that class, nothing there I would ever use in real life.” Ever thought a Harley tech could teach you physics? Now leaks can be easy, or hard to find. I never would climb under a car to see the leak, mainly because I couldn’t get up. But really because leaks have tendency to start at the top, and run down, we call it gravity. Another law of physics. So always start at the top to look for the source of the leak. Very few liquids run uphill, it is like the bumper sticker on the Jeep, “If you can read this, turn me over back on my wheels.” You have a bigger problem, but again have found the source of the leak. Sadly people are like cars, cars are smart enough not to become like people... would you buy and drive a model with your reputation? And looks? How about your trade in value? Cars 1, people 0.

Now I try to stay out of politics, they are all losers as far as I can tell. Why substitute them for God, He knows, they write laws. But these recent scandals have me interested, but for one reason I haven’t heard editorialized yet. All leaks start at the top. Just ask your advisor or mechanic. And while there may be circumstances leading to the leak, they never run uphill. Try that one with your boss, either you are stupid, lying, or just plain incompetent. In either case, it’s your fault. Confess it and get over it and go on. We could source the problem, but the repair was still the same, replace and repair. Stupid hurt, and lack of maintenance or neglect could bet the problem, the repair was the same. Man, how I wish we could have charged a stupid fee? And no, stupid isn’t covered under warranty. But thanks for asking.

So God made it simple for us to get it right with Him. We blew it with laws, Judges, more laws, evil kings, more laws, and sacrifices which required no sacrifice on our part. Remember the definition of insanity, doing the same thing but expecting a different result? That was us, until Jesus came. And made it a simple one step, not as much fun or time consuming as weekly meetings or dues paying fixes. Repent and turn to Jesus. Something we all can do, and many have. We went right to the top to find the solution, just like any good tech would to diagnose a leak. We found the source, and the answer there. Yet many read books, watch TV, and send them money, attend poor churches-you know when you are, or turn to the cults-who keep you away from Jesus. And your life goes on leaking, when it could be filled to overflowing with the spirit of God. With Jesus you not only get the proper diagnosis, but the problem, not the symptom is taken care of. The truth, not some convenient lie to hold you over until something really breaks. The side of the road is usually where many phone calls for help come from-ever right click a tow truck? So seek God today, and then listen. He has the tools, the parts, the knowledge, and the answer-not opinions to get your life back on the road. To fix the leak-from the top down. Which is where politicians and Christians form different lines. Wonder why government is so screwed up? What did the little Dutch boy do when he ran out of fingers to plug the dike? Look for more fingers, or find the source? And what do you do when the leak stops by itself? Check the fluid level-you may be out!

So Mr. Politician-leaks start at the top. And anyone reputable will want to fix them-could be you on the side of the road next time. But in real life, bypass Congress, and avoid going to jail-and paying your $200. Life ain’t Monopoly. Go straight to Jesus, and find He will listen. Now it is your turn...like the ad says, “pay me now, or pay me later..”

And unlike my service advisor experience, you can come to Him with no problems, just to visit... it’s called praise and worship. Which is more fun...like I still tell people, “maintenance is expensive, but repairs still cost more”. And a worn out Bible is the sign of a life that isn’t. If Congress made a plane would you fly in it? Yet so many fight to get on board.

All men are born into sin and need a Savior. Call on Jesus now, He paid the price, so you don’t have to. It is always best to start at the top.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the Moore I see, the less of it there is to see-an ode to Joplin

Like most of you, my first encounter with a tornado was “The Wizard of Oz,” and I would have been satisfied with that. But in 1979 I saw my first real tornado damage riding around Cheyenne during Frontier Days. We were almost in a trance like state driving around neighborhoods, patrolled by the National Guard, and amazed how you could see the path the tornado had taken, some homes still intact, some leveled, and some just an empty block. And that would have been enough too. Driving across Kansas a few years ago we came upon the remnants of a town totally obliterated by a tornado. One of those small towns that appear out of nowhere across the prairies, it was down to what was left of a convenience store, and part of a gas station. It was hot so we stopped and went in, and the sound of portable generators was everywhere. All food was in boxes, some damaged, some like new. They were rebuilding the small hospital, and it seemed electricity was at a premium. An older crowd, as for many this was not their first tornado, they could only hope it would be the last. But you could feel the energy and the hope among those there, and you almost wanted to stop and ask “where do I start?” But ride on knowing sometimes prayer is all God wants you to do. And I still think of them today and pray, and two years ago we were able to see how much the town had recovered-many new buildings, a new convenience store, and life was going on-as we were riding through. Neighbors helping neighbors, there for each other...

Oklahoma City has always been the center of the US of A to me. Almost 1500 miles from home, it means another 1500 to the East Coast. It has meant three stops during Torches Across America to visit the bombing scene at the Murrah Building. It was my less than 28 hour stop on my 70 hour ride across America. It is where Braums and Steak and Shakes begin to appear at every freeway exit, and the brown of the Texas panhandle turns to green rolling hills. A modern big city, with a small town attitude, it is driving through Bricktown, catching up with old Route 66, and leaving to the east and riding past Pop’s. It is also 220 miles to Joplin, where Andrew and I assisted with clean up and recovery ministry two Mays ago. It is a small town named Moore, where we spent the night in 2011, where it was over 100 degrees after 10 at night. We were right along I-35, and had met up with our good friend Joe, and eaten some of the best BBQ this side of the South. It is where we would take off from the next morning on a ride of over 500 miles, covering a distance of only 300 as the crow flies. It is where the sirens warned yesterday of a tornado with Moore in its path. A sound that most Okies are used to, this is Tornado Alley, but yet is terrifying. We sat huddled in a basement in Red Wing, Minnesota a few years back while the sirens went off for 90 minutes. Time stands still while you are waiting, and our wait produced nothing but a new respect for those who live in these areas, as the tornado passed by. We met those who had been in these storms, some who had lost things, and some who rebuilt-that was their tradition. The land was theirs, where else would they go? California? Don’t you have earthquakes every day? No this is home, and this is where they stayed, and will stay-again if necessary. For be it ever so humble, there is no place like home.

So when Joe called Theresa yesterday and advised us of the damage, he lives in Moore, and family lives around there, we knew the area, and Joe. And please keep them all in prayer, the devastation can only be imagined. What we saw in Joplin two years ago cannot be told on TV. When you first come upon the damage, you cannot believe it. But there is also a certain sound, one of silence, as no life or business is going on. Neighborhoods, shopping centers, and freeways that produce all the background noise we cannot hear is gone. You see people in shock, just moving around. Where do you start? How can you help? And then driving through the neighborhoods, you lose all perspective. No landmarks, no trees, and debris everywhere. Cars on top of cars, and the smell-it smells of death, an odor I cannot describe. And I hope you never do. But we found a resilience in Joplin, like we had seen in Kansas, and like I know we will see, and already see in Moore. People doing what needs to be done-teamwork, family work, town work. Everyone leveled to a common denominator of need, and all the things that were important that morning don’t matter any more. Home work, after school activities, Little League, graduation, and jobs are all put on hold-survival now is the first thing, and for most the only thing. So what can we do? What should we do?

If you aren’t already, pray. Thank God for His mercies, I am always amazed at how few deaths there are among the devastation. Get out your wallet, and send money to the Red Cross, Operation Blessing, who we worked with in Joplin,and contacts me every time a tragedy occurs-I wish I could respond this time, but physically can’t. But if you can, contact them, along with Samaritan’s Purse, and go and volunteer. Get out and get ‘er done. I cannot express the joy of helping we had, or to see the lives of those we touched. Go and listen to their stories, and ask what you can do. Ask to pray for them, after listening to one man’s story and the tour of what was left of his home, when I asked if I could pray for him, he called all his family together, “this man from California came out here to pray for us.” Be it ever so humble...

But don’t do nothing. As Joplin becomes Tuscaloosa, becomes Hurricane Sandy, becomes Texas, becomes Moore, get out and help. The winds of Oklahoma may not be as romantic as Hawaii, but the memories will be sweeter. Stop if you are going by, spend the day or night, stop by a church and ask to help. We never saw a need for less volunteers, and I still get info on Joplin today, two years later. And perhaps the greatest thank you note was from Joplin, hand signed, reminding us and thanking us for being there, and the difference we had made. I’ll put it against any postcard you have anytime. The ministry of just being there, how many times do you ask for Jesus to be there, and He always is, can we not follow His example? Maybe JFK said I best in his famous speech, “Ask not what your country can do for you, but ask what you can do for your country.” We are that country, we are that people, and we are that church. We ask God what he can do for us,today ask what we can do for Him? Moore, Oklahoma, just a town on the map. But hometown to many. Jesus Christ Lord of all. Don’t wait for a storm to invite Him to your hometown, and don’t wait for that special invite-I just extended it to you-in the name of Jesus. The harvest is already full, will you be a worker?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

pictures are of Joplin, May 2011

where your heart goes your eyes will follow

As any experienced rider knows, we have the freedom to use all of the lane we are riding in. We know to avoid the center and intersections because of the oily buildup, and we can choose the best line in turns. We can pick the smoothest part of the lane, and even use the extra room provided to avoid accidents. More good reasons to ride, and to enjoy the freedom it provides. But of course cars are different, and with most lanes filled with their width, they don’t and can’t choose like we do. Just like happened one weekend in Mexico...

We were going down for the San Felipe race with the Simon and Simon Race Team. We were one of their sponsors, and they were past winners of the Baja 1000. Ed Frisk, their crew chief and I got be friends, he later came to the Lord, and he was leading a group of six vehicles down. They were all marked with Ford’s Rough Rider’s colors, he was pulling a trailer with the pre-runner on it with the van, and we were in the middle in our Ranger, with no colors. Theresa and Andrew were along and we were planning on an exciting weekend-which it was! But it was about to get more exciting. Leaving Mexicali at night, then crossing the border, we were driving down Hiway 5 in Mexico, when we came upon a Federale’s check point. They light tires on fire at night to warn approaching vehicles, and Ed, got too close to one and ran over it. Setting the Federal Agents into action-our whole caravan getting pulled over. We were soon descended upon by armed troops, who when we rolled down the window, stuck a gun into the truck. Right in the face of a sleeping Andrew, 11 years old at the time. Try that for a wake up call sometime! But in Mexico off road racing is the sport, and the racers all heroes, fortunately for Ed, who was able to talk and buy his way out with t-shirts, posters, and an invitation to meet Paul and Dave at the race, which some did. We were soon on our way, a bit scared, and driving slower, and Ed had learned a valuable lesson about driving at night in Mexico. And about using all the lane-no matter how narrow it is!

Coming back Sunday afternoon we decided to follow the Terrible Herbst Team back, and they drove fast-like they were still racing. The Simon team had decided to spend an extra few days enjoying San Felipe, and the sea food-home of the original fish taco. With narrow roads, and not graded very well, after you drive in Mexico, any road in the States seems good, an approaching semi caught the outside rear view mirror of the Herbst truck, and tore it off-both vehicles not even slowing down, and we dodged the pieces as they disintegrated. Two wide trucks on two narrow lanes had met, and the inevitable happened. Couldn’t happen on a motorcycle could it? My lane splitting story on a loaner Victory some other time...

Scripture warns us to stay on the straight and narrow. Not to veer to the right or left. We see this when people get too far one way or the other in politics, and lose their perspective of right or wrong. It becomes all about me. But it happens to Christians too, and that is why Jesus warns us to stay straight. If we go too far right, we become legalistic. Life becomes all about rules and laws, and we lose the ability to use all the road we are on. We get to close to the edge like Ed, and soon will come into contact with someone or something, following our own understanding rather than riding or walking in the spirit. As we drift from Jesus, we get our own ideas, and soon become isolated, and can only see our side, not our friends, and certainly not God’s. We become more program and process oriented, targets get closer, and soon we can become a target ourselves, all because we don’t choose the best part of the road and then take it. It also happens when we go to far left, and lean on our own understanding, and change our values to meet our actions. We start to allow sin to enter, and worse yet make excuses for it in our lives. And just like the a lane too narrow, soon we impact something or someone and pay the price for going out on our own. It is never our fault, as sin and pride blames someone or something else, if only they had listened to us, it may not have happened. too many laws and too many excuses, sound like your life? Try entering a curve too fast, and with no way out see what happens. Too far right-the woods, too far left oncoming traffic-unless you are in England, but the results are the same-CRASH! So use all the road, just like we do. Straighten a curve by entering it correctly, and taking the best line through it. Accelerate when exiting, gathering speed and enjoying the ride. Look out for the dangers that approach, and that can come from the side-too many accidents because we never saw it coming. Stay in the word, and let the word-Jesus remain in you. Looking back it is amazing how many near misses I have experienced, and am still around to tell about it due to Jesus. Some even while riding.

Single vehicle accidents can rarely be blamed on anyone but ourselves. Learn to look ahead, your eyes always scanning for an escape route. Ask anyone who rides after driving a car and they will tell you riding makes them a better driver too. But in all things, keep your eyes upon Jesus, as our eyes tend to wander, and our bodies follow. Where your heart goes your eyes will follow. Just a quick glance to the right can get you into the woods, a quick left-don’t ask. Ride the curves like they are straight and narrow and enjoy your ride even more. Use both sides of your tire, not just the center, like they were designed for. And use all the road, using the center as a guide. Life is going to throw many curves at you, make sure you exit as fast as you enter and enjoy the ride. Just another benefit of riding a motorcycle, and of riding with Jesus. I don’t even get it how you guys can do cars.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

on a scale of 1-10...

“Dirty” Harry Callahan, when asked to describe a woman, once remarked, “I‘d give her a 2, only because I’ve never seen a 1!” And I must admit, over the years I have seen some pretty detestable characters, but never that elusive 1. But I would like to share of two characters, two pathetic, detestable characters played by two Hollywood legends. Both used to playing glamorous roles, but in playing George and Martha in “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” showcase their great talents. I don’t watch movies because a certain actor is in it, although I have found certain actors make the picture, just like certain groups make the song. Never being an Elizabeth Taylor fan, after seeing her play Maggie in “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof,” years ago, her beauty was overwhelming, stealing the scene even when in the background. But after seeing her play Martha in WAOVW? I come close to being a fan. As glamorous as she was, she is that elusive 1, I’d say close at 1 1/2, playing a character so well you cannot believe she is acting. Add Richard Burton playing George, her equally pathetic husband, the movie is one you cannot turn off, much like trying to turn away from a train wreck, somehow you just have to watch. Just to hear Burton call her “Martha” is priceless, yet these two examples of human debris are so pathetic and hateful to each other, they cannot live without each other. I will warn you the movie is graphic, not so much in language but in attitude, but a 4 **** movie all the way. “Two thumbs up” as the late Roger Ebert would say.

The late Carroll O’Connor once explained how easy it was to play the iconic Archie Bunker because in real life he was just the opposite. It was all acting, but done so well you would think that Archie and Carroll were the same in front of the camera and in real life. But Carroll was a bleeding heart liberal, as was Norman Lear the producer, who even had an organization “People for the American Way,” so far left it was off the road. So great acting can lead us astray, something we need to remember, it is only a part in a movie or TV show-not real life. Or is it?

I am disgusted with most if not all of “religious broadcasting.” From false teaching of prosperity, promising you a blessing for sending them money, to fake prayer clothes, to false doctrines, the wolves in sheep’s clothing are out there. No wonder Jesus warned us to be as gentle as lambs, yet as wise as serpents, for the serpents are just the opposite. Take Eve and the serpent, would she have responded if he was ugly and scary looking, or even threatening? Yet his promise sounded like God’s, but was a cleverly worded lie. And as I channel surf watching each one begging for money, like it is your responsibility to keep these liars on the air, they promise trinkets, food, blessings, and drain the pockets and hearts of unsuspecting. It could never happen to us, yet look around-it has and still does. Do not be deceived, bad company corrupts good morals. And scripture warns of these types who are in for the money-yours! Beware! “Martha!”

Years ago I had read how Ray Stedman did a Wednesday night service, and allowed those in need to take from the collection if needed, rather than donate. My prayer was someday I could do that, and when invited to a Triker Blessing, I took a giant leap of faith and after a short lesson, took up a collection. Telling those in attendance, “I know gas is expensive and money is low, take a little if it will help, but leave enough for others, too.” And I put the first $20 in the bucket. And went on to bless the trikes, and then to say goodbye to the officers of the event. Who were thrilled, and very excited and thankful. The collection was designed for me, to cover expenses out to Laughlin, they paid their speakers, but I had turned it over to them, again trusting God, and wanting to live Ray’s example. Tearfully the one lady told me how for years they had wanted to start a benevolent fund for hurting trikers, but never had the money. Trikers tended to be older, and poorer, and had trouble taking care of themselves, let alone others. But with this money, they were able to start this fund, and were beyond words of thanks. More of a blessing than I had ever dreamed, God used my simple act of obedience to bless them, and to show that love gives, and doesn’t take. That God meets needs according to His riches, not ours, and it is more blessed to give than receive. And they were very blessed to receive.

Today you may be accused of being a Christian? Where is the evidence to convict you? Are you just playing a role, or are you really in Christ? Are you that two, wishing to be a 10, or trying to avoid being the one? Long after my words at the triker blessing were forgotten, they will remember our actions. Just like we remember those of Jesus, but have trouble with the words sometimes. Lay down your cross, and pick up His, and follow Him-no script needed-just obedience. If you are asked to give it isn’t a gift. Avoid those envelopes and pledge cards-give as God directs, and accept the blessings. And if you need an iconic character to follow, try Jesus-none more iconic or better than Him. Many lead lives of self inflicted torture trying to be what they aren’t, and we can see what they can’t. Be yourself in Christ, allow Him to be your Lord. Do you choose to live a Christian life, or are you living an illusion? Does your church give, or receive? Do you?

To me the best actors are the ones who choose the hardest parts and make them seem real. George and Martha were so real that no acting seemed involved. We all know people like them, maybe that is why I associated with them. But I also know those who associate with Jesus, and behave like Him. With no acting involved. I choose to follow them.

Try Jesus, on a scale of 1-10 He’s somewhere off the scale. How do you rate the God you follow? Why play the part when you can be the part? We’ll only know by the part He plays in your life.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

about faces

At age 17 Nick Clifford was a pretty fair ball player. It was still the Great Depression, and jobs were scarce, especially in South Dakota, where the building of the faces on Mt. Rushmore were all the news. Under the management of Lincoln Borglum, son of famous sculptor and designer of the project, Gutzon Borglum, Lincoln was looking for another ballplayer for their state baseball league team. He heard about Nick, and after seeing him play, offered him a job working on the faces-he would eventually work on the face of George Washington. The condition was he would play on the baseball team. Dangerous work, skilled work, but high paying work, Nick accepted, on the condition he would play for their team, which would be a state champ one year with him. And he would be trained to use explosives, he already knew how to use a jackhammer, and the stories he would come to tell, eventually writing a book, “Mt. Rushmore, Q & A.” And some 71 years later our paths would cross.

We were on a 37 day ride across America, which would have us visit 31 states over 11,000 miles. A dream trip, we were planning on going to Mt. Rushmore, our first visit in 33 years. After various stops for construction, most 30-40 miles from any town-part of the Obama $787 billion bailout, we were ready for the Black Hills. Light rain didn’t faze us, but some rude Ranger driver wouldn’t let us pass, intent on maintaining 25mph no matter the speed limit. But taking the extra time, meant more photo ops for Theresa, so I guess it all evened out. Since our last visit, they had enlarged the Visitor Center, and the amphitheater. After looking at this most impressive monument, we wandered the book store, where Nick was answering questions, and signing his new book. Now not too many 90 year olds have the energy Nick has, and listening to him was captivating. He was actually there, had pictures and pieces of the work to prove it, and even his old baseball uniform. surprised it hasn’t shown up on e-bay, but his generation’s values go deeper than resale value. After we were able to visit with him, and get our picture taken with him, to some just a chance meeting, but to us thankful God had arranged it. After more viewing, we left for our motel in Custer-stay anywhere but Custer, free advice that should be taken, and wound back down the hill. Now the faces seemed more alive, and we saw things we didn’t know to look for before. Now that we had met Nick, the faces seemed to come alive, and have personality all their own. Nick had not only been a witness, but participated in their building, he was history, and I would highly recommend reading his short book before going. Like having our own guide, now we knew the whys and hows, and felt like we had been there. All because a 17 year old had baseball skills. And at over 90 still wanted to share his story. And we got to meet the author...that made the difference in the trip.

It is common for many to complain about not understanding the Bible. They study, study more, memorize, take classes, and maybe even attend Bible college, get a degree, but still never get it. Until they met the author, Jesus Christ. Scripture tells us that it is the Holy Spirit that reveals the mysteries of the Bible, and without knowing its author, many words have no meaning. Many fall back on only the Word, running to it without asking God first to intervene, and never get its full benefits. After all the book is all about God, why not get to know the author? Rather than a Trinity of Father, Son, and the Word, take advantage of the true Trinity-Father, Son, and Holy Spirit! And remember Jesus is the Word! What do you do when no Bible is available? What do millions do who do not have access to one? The spirit is always there-just waiting for you to respond, encouraging you to seek Him-what will your answer be?

Along those same lines, religion has painted Thomas as a doubter, which is never mentioned in the Bible about him. The night after Jesus’ resurrection, when He walked through the walls of a locked room, where the other remaining disciples were hiding, we know where Thomas wasn’t, but not where he was. Based on previous scripture about him, it is possible he was out on the streets-not hiding. Yet when told how they had seen Jesus-he wanted the same. He would believe if he could touch Him and His wounds. But when confronted by Jesus in the same setting the next week, Jesus showed up just for Him. And when told the same words He had said about Jesus, recognized Him as Lord and God. Never touching Him! You see Thomas had seen the miracles, the healings, the 5000 fed twice, and heard the parables. He was with Jesus for over 3 years, but the others had seen the resurrected Christ-He wanted to also. And when He did, he believed! He was and is a witness of the risen Christ, and a witness can only tell what he has seen or heard-and Thomas now was that witness!

So get to know the author of the Bible, and watch as your life comes alive in Christ. Just like after meeting Nick the Four Faces now had a personality, and we felt we knew them, let the Spirit guide you into all understanding. Educated people don’t get into heaven, saved ones do. Ask Jesus into your life today, ask Him to show more of Himself, and to reveal Himself in the scriptures. Get to know the author-and become a witness. See things, and hears things, and instead of wanting to touch Jesus to believe, let Him touch you. God the Father, Jesus the son, and the Holy Spirit to guide and make it all more personal. You’ve heard of the book, now meet the author. And remember the words of Jesus after His encounter with Thomas-“you have seen and believe, blessed are those who have not seen and believe.” That’s us. Be blessed today. Witnesses wanted, apply to Jesus. He’ll show up for you.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

amber waves of grain

“Oh beautiful for spacious skies, for amber waves of grain...” begins the beautiful song America. Representing more than 1/3 of America, this fly over country as it is referred to for many is a boring area. “Nothing there but fields and farmers, I think I’ll just read,” while flying over it. But when on two wheels, the ground takes on a new beauty all of its own. From North Dakota south to Kansas, my artificial lines of demarcation, the first times across were at 55 mph, a distance you can measure in dog years. And in a car, windows up, AC on, and CD player blasting, set the cruise today for 80 and it goes by quickly, or at least not as slow. But get off the interstate on two wheels, and you begin to see the song writers words come true. The skies do seem to go on forever, no end to the horizon, it seems to never move, giving credence to the flat earth believers. But the smells, alert the senses to another story. Early morning dew still glistening, and the sun heating up the tarmac, and soon the heat waves are seen rising from it, creating another smell competing with the land. Small towns dot the horizon, some seen from 50-100 miles off, with only the old billboard ads giving time and distance any meaning. Small towns, of maybe 500-5000 people, a place that for a 100 mile radius farmers and their families do their business. The farmers bring their harvest to town, where huge silos store it until processed and taken further to market by hundreds of semis. Where no Walmart has yet encroached on civilization, and moms buy shoes and clothes for their kids at family owned businesses. Where grocery stores still carry the family’s groceries out to the pickup, and much business is discussed over coffee and breakfast at the diner. No Denny’s here, this is real food, for real men, who work real hard.

My first real farm breakfast was in a little town in Kansas, on a Sunday morning. Sitting at the counter, I was mesmerized by listening to men talk of their crops, and the prices they hoped to get for them. The cost of their loans keeping them afloat until the harvest was in and sold. The price of gas that effected them directly, and each penny increase multiplied many times came right out of their profit. They discussed politics, and how the world seemed to be invading their world, how Washington never listens, and how they could care less about pretty boys sending young men to war, when the war being fought here was taking its toll. All the same issues we discuss, they discussed, too. And I was amazed at how they got up day after day, and went to work. No welfare for a farm family, no unemployment checks when the winter winds blow, and work is impossible. No sick days, as every day is a work day, except Sunday in some cases. Benefits-I got a family to feed. They plant, they water, and God provides the growth. But in between, the work never stops. And so the work of a farmer never ends. And they are both farmer, businessman, negotiator, father or mother, tractor operator, county representative, consumer, and producer-all at once. They don’t concentrate on corn futures, they are corn, wheat, grain, and dairy products today, whose every day delay to market can spell failure from spoilage, or losing money while waiting out time for the harvest. A tough life, but when challenged, would accept no other. And my hat and helmet goes off to them.

Another time in Wisconsin I learned while these small town diners serve breakfast all day. Stopping in Iola,Wisconsin, with less than 1000 people, I had what was a late breakfast for me. The diner was filled with farmers, and the mood was festive, the waitresses busy, and the food looked great. Even though it was 1000am, it was still breakfast time, and even though the menu spelled breakfast, this was the second meal of the day for many. Their first breakfast was at 400am, before the cows were up and the roosters were still waiting for the sun to rise to give their wake- up call. Our traditional breakfast was for them a morning snack, with this late morning breakfast a feast. As I found a seat at the counter, between two large men in overalls, boots covered in mud, there was no doubt I was the stranger in a strange land. Through the window they could see my California plates on the Tiger, and I am sure they wondered how I had wandered so far from home. Listening as their eyes checked me out, I ordered the Farmer’s Special-3 eggs, 3 bacon, 2 sausage, ham, potatoes, and pancakes. Enough to feed a small family, for men at work this would have to last until dinner when the sun went down. And as the waitress brought me the three platters of food, these two men who surrounded me watched as I ate. It was possible the eggs were from one of their farms, the butter they were fried in theirs, the bacon from their pigs, and the buckwheat in the pancakes from their fields. I had given thanks, and as they continued to consume cups of coffee, a pot was set in front of each one, foe the next 20 minutes I consumed, until I was about to bust. And they boht looked to me, smiled, and extended the hand of friendship. This California boy had cleaned his plates, maybe he was not so bad as they thought. Not so different after all. Thoughts mirrored by me. And we talked, of their fields, my trips, problems with kids, how the government cannot be trusted, and if they ever got to California places to go. But mostly, what was it like on a motorcycle? And the look in their eyes showed a respect and admiration for my ride. Following me out and wishing me well, not ever letting on that it would be almost two days and three states until I ate again. Excuse me, BURP!

I had been a stranger, and been welcomed. And made to feel welcome. Two different environments could have crashed that day, but left friends, admiring each other. Jesus tells us of how we were once strangers, and He took us in. Something to remember when dealing with homeless, skateboarders, yuppies, and bikers. Those who look different, or worship different. We are all different, but Jesus loves us all the same. It took some getting used to me eating three platters of food, but it was a compliment to them and their profession. Seeing someone enjoying the fruits of their labor. The fruit of Jesus’ labor is reflected in love, joy, peace patience, goodness, kindness, meekness, and long suffering. The character of God, shown in our actions. And welcoming a stranger is a big part of it. When someone looks lost at church, ask them to sit with you. Don’t give directions, walk them to where they need to go. Extend a hand of friendship, ask them to lunch after. Take the love outside of the church when you leave, helping the mom with more kids than hands, the hungry needing food, the thirsty needing drink, the naked needing clothes, and those in need. Welcome the stranger, for we were all once strangers. Nothing like being welcomed in a new environment. We call it discipleship. God calls it love. That morning in Iola it was called breakfast, today it may be lunch. Holding the door open for someone, smiling at one who is down. How many Lazaruses you step over today is your choice. Just like there is fly over country, there are fly over people. Show the love of Jesus today, become an evangelist of love, become a friend. For every farmer I meet I have a new friend, someone to listen and someone to listen to. Share the gospel today, when needed use words. They may just be waiting for someone to wave to them so they can wave back. An opportunity I don’t wish to miss. Best seen from the seat on a motorcycle. Why we ride...

love with compassion,

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