great expectations

The first car I remember was my parent's 1952 Chevy. Blue, purchased before I was born, from Milam Chevrolet Company, "the Downtown Dealer," in San Antonio, Texas. 8-26-1952. I can still remember this two door, blue Chevy, that they owned until 1959, when my Grandpa bought a new 1959 Buick Electra 225, silver gray with red leather interior. He then sold his 1956 Buick Special to them. Cool car-two door, yellow and white, with huge, long doors. Which lasted until 1962, when they went into the automobile doldrums in the sixties with a string of Ramblers. Which was devastating for a young, car crazy kid. Fast and Rambler never were used in the same sentence. Nor was cool.

Some of my earliest memories with friends like Bruce and Barry was going to Westfield and looking at new cars. Sitting in the new Mustangs on the floor at Westfield Ford, under the careful eye of the salesman. Their dad had bought one there, and that seemed to give us visiting rights-not available at many other places. We didn't mean any harm, but still had danger written all over us. Up a couple of blocks to Norris Chevrolet, where Corvairs, Corvettes, and SS396's made us drool. But would always leave chanting "cheap Chevrolet , beep beep!" due to the fact we were chased out one too many times. Oh, to have those trips back today. I'd be happy to have a red 1965 SS327 Impala like Gary Aldingers. Cheap-not today. Lindemann Buick was for old people, as was Reilly Oldsmobile-except for the 442, these really were your father's Oldsmobile. And sadly today, like many of our fathers, Olds is gone, too. Rotchford Pontiac, GTO's on the lot to look at. We used to love all the Tiger ads and the freebies we took from the showroom.

And on South Avenue, Miller Rambler, with little reason for a car crazy kid to go into, and the Lincoln Mercury dealer, which had just gotten Cougars. They changed owners so often I can't remember the name. Yes, 1965, was a great year to be a car crazy kid, and the only real problem with it for an eleven year old was not being able to enjoy them for another six years-the driving age in Jersey was 17. But we sure travelled a lot of miles, and did a lot of burnouts in our minds while visiting these showrooms. And somehow, a romance with cars that seems missing today, was in every young kid's heart. No Toyotas, the VW was the foreign car, and you had to go all the way to Plainfield to see one at Union County Motors, and no one did burnouts in a bug. Yep, cars built in the US of A were king, and to enthusiasts today, the cars of our childhood still are. And sadly as far out of reach monetarily today, as they were age wise to us then. But that has never stopped us from dreaming, or desiring even a ride in one. Just to relive memories we never had, or to imagine what it might have been like. And I can still remember Scottie's brother Doug, whose friend had a 1962 Corvette. Who was cool to us young kids, he was in high school, and very old to us. One day letting us sit in his car, then driving to the end of Algonquin Drive, and turning around-a ride of maybe 1000 feet, but which seemed like a hundred miles at the time. It was blue, with whitewalls and spinner hubcaps. Why don't they build cars and memories like that anymore?
It has been said we look to the past because we have no hope in the future. And this may be legitimate. As the whole world continues to crumble around us, whether financial, wars, diseases, or as of this morning, earthquakes and tsunamis, it is hard to be excited about the future. But we have this blessed hope in Jesus Christ, and all these things only tell us that His time of return is near. There will be scoffers, who make fun of us saying "where is the promise of His return, I thought you said He was returning?" Not realizing, it is for them that He hasn't, since He is patient and wishes none should perish. But that for thousands of years His prophecies have been true-spot on, and Daniel warns us that all these things will happen to the last generation. How exciting that we may be part of that one-who never sees death, but who will experience the rapture?

What things do you say? Read Ezekiel 37, 38, 39. Daniel 7 and 12. And see how the events of the last days are portrayed, events talked about thousands of years ago. Foretold by God. Events no FX or mind can imagine. The end of the world maybe for some, but the beginning of life for Christians. And like Pastor Ray says, "I used to have to read the Bible for prophecy, now I can turn on the news."

As precious as the past was, the future will be even more exciting. But only if you spend it with God. Now is the day of salvation. Don't hesitate. As kids we eagerly anticipated driving the cars from the showrooms in our dreams. And that hope of expectation kept our dreams alive. Someday, we told ourselves, I'll have on. As kids we hoped for our own blue Chevy. Or red SS327. Or an orange GTO. Even a silver Mustang. Some still do. Are we looking forward with the same expectation for the return of Christ? I hope so-the news today will be the prophesies from yesterday. Foretold in love, by a God who wants to spend eternity with you. A message that has never gone out of style.

hot in cleveland

I was eating a late lunch at a Captain D's, outside of Cleveland, Tennessee that is. It was one of those days that despite all the humidity outside, you couldn't keep enough liquid inside. So after too many sweet teas, I was finishing my hush puppies, and finally took some time to come up for air. This side of the restaurant was empty except for me, and an adjoining table of six men. And I couldn't help but over hear what they were talking about. They were obviously with some church, and were interviewing the sixth man. The interviewers all were white, short hair, ties, and looked very religious. The man being interviewed was black, from Africa, you could tell by his accent, and dressed in jeans and a red shirt. They were done eating, and by the size of the interviewers, had probably eaten one or more of everything on the menu. Dinner talk was done, and now it was time to get down to business.

But something struck me, and as I eavesdropped, it became evident that this black man was out of their league. While the others were steeped in denominational tradition, and had their set of rules, this man had something different. And one of the interviewers picked up on it, and at that point saw beyond this man's skin color. He also saw that this man would not be a good fit for whatever position they offered him. And the more they talked, it was evident that although he could man many positions within the church, he was a threat. What if he invited or brought others like him in? What if his wife wore pants? What if brother and sister so and so-major donors, didn't agree with his doctrines? What if he taught from the Bible, showed love, forgiveness, and reached out to others with the gospel of Jesus Christ? How would that make the rest of us look?

For you see his skin color had nothing to do with his being different. While the other men were steeped in legalism, he was walking in the spirit. And that freedom that God promises when walking in the spirit was something that they weren't ready to deal with. In fact it posed a threat. They would have to change-all of them, not to be like this stranger, but to be like Jesus. In many ways, a stranger to them.

I left before I saw the outcome, but I could already tell what it was. This black man had a vision, and a purpose, and was in the spirit. The best way I could describe the others to you was like the night after they found Jesus' body was not in the tomb. All the remaining disciples hid in an upper room, door locked, because of fear. While Thomas, who wasn't with them, was still about God's business. And they called him Doubting? Just like these men, they feared what they should have not. And their pride would keep them from ever enjoying the fullness of Christ. And maybe even heaven. They had kept the rules of the church, with only one thing absent-Jesus. And without His love, would never fulfill the great commission.

Maybe this is the Mystery of Christ. He was able to unite both Jew and Gentile, while no other means could. He offered love, and showed the fallacy of living under legalism. He forgave, when others still pointed out others weaknesses. And like this African man, wasn't looking for a position in the church, but wanted to walk in the fullness of the Holy Spirit. And his own people, the church, rejected him.

We often talk about the fact that we don't know who or when someone is watching us. That day I was an observer, and got more from lunch than sweet tea. I saw the sweetness of Jesus portrayed in a man, but sadly not in a group of men. If your life is more representative of the church types, I suggest you try Jesus. Let Him heal your heart. Be part of the mystery of Christ revealed to a lost and dying world. Love the unlovely, don't wait for an apology to forgive, and reach out to others. Be the only Bible many may read.

And just like the blind man, who Jesus gave back his sight, when asked about it, said "I don't know if He is good or bad, all I know is I was blind, and now I see!" That afternoon I saw more clearly. The law brings death, the spirit gives life. Truly, where the spirit of the Lord is there is liberty. Even in Cleveland.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogpsot.com

when handing out brains, did you think they said trains?

Wherever I worked, I always had one rule. I let the business have the others. Seemed fair at the time. It was simple, take a message if I am busy, except for my wife and kids. Put them through-they have priority over everyone else. Even just a call to tell me they loved me, or to beg for more money, or to warn me what I would find out later when I got home, they always were allowed to get through. As it should be, for being part of a family should have its rewards. But it isn't always that way.

Suppose you have a friend, that every night before you go to bed, calls. And it is the same thing every night. For about 20 minutes they tell you how stupid their spouse is-hey they married you, maybe poor taste in spouses is their only flaw. Their job is worth more than they pay them-didn't they know what the salary was when they started? Or how they have certain needs that aren't being met. Important stuff sometimes, like the new motorcycle that just came out, and then time off to ride it. And then ask for advice, or help. And just as you begin to answer them, they tell you, "I'm tired," or "Batman is coming on," or "I'll call you tomorrow." And the only certain thing is they will-again. And you will answer-at least the phone.

Suppose you have another friend, case #2, where they talk for 20 minutes, then it is your turn. Time up, now they can talk again. And back and forth. And you wonder why are we talking like this? How can I get out of this? Sadly some people refer to this as conversation, when it isn't even communication. But even sadder this is how to describe most people's prayer life. Sound familiar? After complaining to God, then asking for help, they're done. They don't wait for an answer, and then go off wondering why their prayers go unanswered. And claiming God doesn't answer their prayers. If only they had listened. They have a monologue with God, but need a dialogue-where both speak, and both listen. You have obviously gotten through to God, He listens, but He expects the same of you, so He can guide you. But after you plead your case, you go back out the same as you came in. Worse only because you still have your problems, and didn't listen.

And since prayer is dialogue, listen for God. Let Him talk, then respond. Then listen again, just like you would in any civil conversation. Prayer is supposed to be interactive, not intra-active. God made the premise simple from two very obvious points. One-you can control your mouth, but not your hearing. Try not listening sometimes-it only gets worse. So listen, to God, then speak. You may find that He has been speaking to you longer than you think, Jesus advises those who have an ear, let them hear. You have two, what's your excuse? And two-God gave you two ears, but only one mouth, which can vary in size. So listen twice as much as you speak. Control your mouth, which you have the ability to do. You may be surprised what you hear. For you see, like my family, you always get through to God. But we don't always let Him into our conversation. We shut Him out of world. Which He just happened to create by the way.

So try this. Psalm 1 tells us about meditating with God. Not like Ohm-m-m, but think on the things of God. And you will find yourself thanking Him, and asking less questions, because you already have the answers. You will be guided, and therefore won't need an escape route, unless you take a detour from God, and then stupid will hurt-again. Also listen while reading the Bible, for God speaks through His Word. Don't understand, you will when you need too. So don't worry, and if you do, call Jesus. Read, pray, listen, repeat. Continuously. Get it?

Lastly, for prayer, like communication is very personal, and intimate, do it often. Not just when in an emergency. Or when you need or want something. Just as I always like to hear my from my sons, God loves to hear from you. And as you in your relationship with Him, you quit asking why. You begin to trust Him. Asking why can mean "I know better God, what were you thinking when you told me that?" Attitude is important, and trust will show through it. So trust Him, and get to know His voice.
And look forward to hearing it. For those who know it, know Him. And will get to listen to it for eternity. There are no unused minutes in heaven, and any plan that limits access to God on earth is a lie. So let God into your life. Ask, you will receive. But only, when you listen for his answer.

And if He answers no? Simply put, a yes is coming-but with something much better than you asked for. He likes to give good gifts, so let Him. So, pick up your prayer line right now. He wants to hear from you-do you want to hear from Him? That's not a busy signal you're hearing, and He won't put you on hold. Just a direct line, so be still-and know that he is God!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogpsot.com

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waattiffs

Decisions-I read once where the average person makes over 8700 of them a day. And since no one I know is average, above average I think is how we see ourselves, I hope you make the right decision and read on. And decisions are based on choices-sit or stand, car or bike, paper or plastic-text while driving or be responsible. And more often than not, we don't hear about our right decisions-unless we get caught. But I have found that this is another proof for a living, loving God who has everything under control. As I watch moms who cannot control one child, it must take an above average God to maintain over 6 billion of us. But imagine if we were left up to our own devices, what if....

What if Mrs. Davidson had told her sons, "stay away from that Harley kid. He is bad news. And get rid of those leather jackets!" What if they made a V-4 motor? What if Mrs. Honda had told Sochiro to ride the bus? Would we still wanna ride? What if Don Corleone really was in the olive oil business? What if he made you an offer, and you refused? And what if Sonny had lived, would he have been a good don? What if Fredo wasn't weak? What if the movie On Any Sunday was based on Saturday night racing? What if they called it Saturday Night Fever? What would have become of the BeeGees, would they be Stayin' Alive still? What if Henry Ford decided to stay working for the Edison Light Company? What if we all drove Chevies? What if there really was no substitute for cubic inches? And what if young Tom Edison had been more interested in girls than electricity? No movies, where did he take his wife for a date? Go Pros are in your future because of him. What if JFK had decided to stay home that November and watch the Redskins? Would we still have conspiracy buffs? Would we trust our government more-or at all? What if the Hokey Pokey is really what it's all about? What if everybody had an ocean, across the USA? Would we all be surfin' USA?

What if Marlowe had really found the Maltese Falcon? Would it still be the thing dreams are made of? What if Clemenza had left the canoles, and took the gun? What if Martin Luther, who liked to sleep in late, didn't? Would we have church starting at 6am? Or 6pm? What if one night old Chris Columbus thought he saw the edge? And turned back? Or if Ponce De Leon really had found the fountain of youth? How would that effect those of us who never grew up, would anyone notice? What if Lincoln really lived in Gettysburg, and had an address there? Would school kids be required to know it also? Or would 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue be enough? Note-Gettysburg is in Pennsylvania. What if we had won Viet Nam? Would our veterans be taken better care of? What if we won Korea, Iraq, and Afghanistan? Does that make us the most powerful nation on earth? What if we exported things around the world that were made here? Would that help the unemployment rate? What if they voted other places like they do in Chicago-vote early and vote often? What if San Diego had a football team?

What if we used oil and gas that we got domestically? What if two guys from Jersey ran the government? Don't wonder how, just thank them for 32 cent a gallon gas. What if no one cared about Keeping up with the Kardashians? What if OJ really did it? What if letting air out of a tire really did make it weigh less, or by adding pounds weigh more? What if there was really a Santa Claus? What if he unionized his workers? Would they have to work Christmas-it is a holiday? What if the Easter bunny caught on, and wanted Easter off? What if Jesus had decided He didn't want to die for our sins? And we had to work out our own salvation based on works and good deeds. Who would be good enough?

What if Jesus wasn't the way? What if you kept your friends close, but your enemies closer? What if we lived by grace, and mercy? What if you didn't have to mess up to get mercy? Be glad God offers it still. What if motorcycles still shifted on the right and left? What if they truly found a cure for cancer? What if milk shakes had milk in them, and Taco Bell really used meat? What if Ray Kroc had only one McDonalds? What if the brothers McDonald had decided not to sell milkshakes? What if Ronald McDonald lived in an apartment, would we have Ronald McDonald condos? What if you really had it your way, and ate somewhere other than Burger King?

What if God hadn't so loved the world that He didn't send Jesus? What if we really did believe in peace, and realized it only is found through and in Jesus Christ? What if you really believed He was who He said He was? What if you wonder who the Anti-Christ will be more than believing in Jesus? What if this religious stuff is just that-stuff? And you live your life denying the truth? What if you really read the Bible-and believed it?

What if what they say about Jesus is really true? What if you deny Him? What if God really is in control? What if...the decision is yours. I hope you make the right choice.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew225biker.blogspot.com

you're 16, you're beautiful, and you're mine

My friend Guy, from HAMC, sends me interesting forwards from time to time. And although we come at life from slightly different perspectives, we have a common addiction-motorcycles. So when I got his latest e-mail on Saturday, I figured more interesting bikes. But was pleasantly surprised to find it was about Hollywood heroes. Not the Carlos Estevez, aka Charlie Sheens, or Lindsay Lohans of the world. But true heroes, who when it came time to serve their country during WWII, gave up their careers voluntarily and joined the Armed Services of the US of A. And not just bit players, but stars like Clark Gable, who was too old to fight, still trained and gave morale boost to the troops. A pilot, who would have flown over Europe if his age had not disqualified him. Jimmy Stewart, joined as a private and ended up Major Stewart, flying 20 some missions over Europe. George C. Scott-USMC. Men like James Doohan, aka Scotty, Charles Durning, Sir Alec Guiness, and David Niven, who all were part of the D Day invasion. Charles Bronson, Eddie Albert, Brian Keith, Tyrone Power, Lee Marvin, and Robert Ryan who all served in the Pacific theatre, some wounded and many awarded medals or Purple Hearts for their bravery. Men who didn't hide behind their "stardom," but rose above it. These men are heroes to me. The best Hollywood had to offer-and I wonder Hollywood-is Carlos E. the best you have to offer us?

Yesterday we gathered to what would have been Laiken's 16th birthday. I say would have been, for almost three years ago, she died and is resting in the arms of a loving God. A little girl, who when I first met her was only 10 years old, with leukemia. Who for the three years we were friends warmed my heart and became my hero. For like the men mentioned above, she had character. Which rose to the top under pressure. Whose love of life and of God showed through under the harshest of circumstances. She showed it when in Children's Hospital in Loma Linda, and Jim and I held her while they inserted a feeding tube through her nose. She knew it would hurt, this wasn't the first time, and as the tears flowed from her face, she squeezed my hand to ease the pain, just like I had told her too, and I saw a courage and character shine through. And even as my hands hurt from squeezing them, they in no way could compare to the battle she was facing-or the pain from it. To the last time I saw her conscious, while throwing up into a big yellow pot, being comforted by Grandma Rita, she looked up, saw me, and waved-with that big Laiken smile. But the leukemia didn't get her, and infection did. And when God finally said "enough-come on home Laiken," she did.

I know her mom Stacy still misses her, and all the things Laiken never go to do. No more cheerleading, first dates, or proms. She missed by months being the Big Sister she had wanted to be to Abigail. But God knew best-and all these earthly events pale compared to where she is, and what she is doing. Laiken gave when it would have been OK to take. She loved when the situation said different, and wracked with pain. She stood firm, when others around her fell vicitm to the pain she endured. She is my hero, a "shero" if you will. And when Stacy called to invite us, I at first said no. It was a tough week, and I didn't feel like visiting anyone. But then I remembered Laiken, and I had to go. Out of respect, and honor. But mostly love. The love of a little shero, who touched more hearts through cancer than most do in life. A true witness of Jesus Christ, not just going out witnessing. But yet when it came time, she went out, a witness of His love.

Perhaps the song with Ringo's voice says it best. "Now you're my angel devine, you're 16, you're beautiful, and you're mine." Words uttered from the mouth of God, on this her birthday.

It is said celluloid heroes never die. But true heroes, like Laiken continue to live on, and encourage us. For just a few shining moments she lit up many lives. And now she lights up heaven.

My shero, and my friend. A daughter I never had, but got to borrow. A young lady of character. Happy Birthday Sweet 16!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogpsot.com

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those that wander shall never wonder

Certain stretches of road seem to go on forever. Take I-40 east of Albuquerque for example. After going through the canyon-we used to take old 66 and Dead Man's Curve, you head towards Tucumcari, and then Amarillo-about 290 miles of how fast can we get there, but it never seems fast enough. Today we travel it safely at 85mph, but I can remember my first time on it, from east to west at 55mph. A ride that now takes 4-5 depending on potty stops, used to take 7-8 hours, caution being used to look out for radar traps. And on old 66 there were many of them. But today we think nothing of 85 mph, and safety on a four laner, with controlled access. But a much different story is told once you get off the freeway, and travel the old roads. And a time capsule awaits you when you do. Which when you aren't rushed for time, is a pleasant trip to the past. Which today will be someday.

When we first started traveling by motorcycle, my wife preferred to only eat at chain type restaurants, and chain motels. I used to tell her she was homogenized-afraid to step out and try something different. And reluctantly she did, and then the roads, and roadsides became more attractive.

We have eaten some of our best meals at places with gravel driveways, and sputtering neon signs. The outside may look a bit rough, but the cook and the waitress only add more flavor to the meal-and the food too. Where once we would have settled for a fast food chain, we now enjoy eating a real hamburger, a real milk shake with milk in it, and fresh cut fries. Even the pies and other desserts take on a fresher, more personal flavor. Mom's isn't the brand at these stops, but the person who baked it. Cooks with stained old aprons, piles of potatoes stacked on the flat top, and the smell of hot coffee. Add a waitress who calls you Sweetie, and you have the makings of a great meal. And we have learned to try the daily special-which usually is.

Corydon, Indiana was once the state capitol. A neat old down town, we were riding the Ohio River route, and stopped there for lunch. Walking around the block, they did have a few trendy places, which could be anywhere. But on the corner, was Joy's Lunch. And a joy it was. This being a Tuesday, the cook had made tenderloin on Sunday, and today's special was barbequed tenderloin sandwich, fresh corn on the cob, home made Cole slaw, a slice of pie, and a drink-FIVE DOLLARS! A three course meal for less than a #1 at McDonalds. And in 2009 dollars, this was the deal of the trip. Add into it the fact the food was excellent, service great, and we got to mingle and visit with other diners, we found out that the owners were bikers, and served up great meals to riding groups coming through. Sometimes at no profit, sometimes free, as they wanted to help them on their journey. And while talking with two hay covered men, the dad asked me to please stop by his farm, and tell his wife it was OK to buy a motorcycle. We agreed, but only waved while passing. I don't do domestic issues. But for ten dollars, we had eaten, were filled, had made new friends, and were encouraged along the trip, also being told about speed traps and great detours to take. Try that one at Mickey D's next time. You see, there is not only life on the road, but along side of it too. You just need to look. And not be so homogenized.

God likes to stretch us in our road of being a Christian. He likes to take us new places, and show us new things to bless us. But we say NO, I like the road I'm on. Except you cannot see the rut you are really in. The same church service, same meal after, then going home to the same TV and watching the same shows. Sometimes really live it up by stopping for an ice cream. Vanilla. But all in all, a predictability that borders on a slow death. And death arrives, but you are too bored to notice.

God promises us abundant life. Not to be confused with riches, but fulfilling desires He has put into you. And then He fulfills them, when you follow Him. He wants to be the personal God, not a chain or fast food God. To make every meal, and every mile special-although I'm still waiting for the I-40 refresher-maybe if I change my attitude? Anyway, He adds life to living, and allows you to be touched by others, but also to touch them. I cannot tell you how many pictures I have had taken with BBQ pit crews, cooks, waitresses, or other diners we have met. Friends I hadn't known before we stopped, but friends now that we know about. Friends who shared stories over tenderloin, and let us into their world, if only for a few minutes. People who have made the trip special, just by being there.

This road I talk about is not found on any map. It is a road of the heart, and can only be travelled that way. It takes trust, and a step of faith. And only Jesus can provide the way. Do you and yourself a favor today. Try the old roads, stop at a non-franchised ice cream stand. Eat a real lunch, and sit at the counter. Listen and learn, and then repeat the experience for others. You may find that your new friends are more like you than you think. But don't let that scare you. Take advantage of a fulfilled life in Christ that He promises. And take pictures to encourage others. But never lose the file of film in your memory. Smells, tastes, food, and meeting new people. On the road again? Or still? Depends on your perspective, and your trusting of God.

Travelling with Jesus. New roads and new friends. Blessings not found on the freeway, but only on the road with Him. I wander, while others wonder. You'll never know until you go.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

from Bonneville to Daytona in 60 seconds

From time to time I am reminded why we ride. And from time to time also reminded why I ride what I do. We all have a heritage of sorts, even though there are times in our lives that it embarrasses us, and we deny it. But usually we can make it work for us-truth bending it is called, and the world won't call it a lie, they do it all the time-professionally, just bending the truth to meet the situation. Bikers call it bench racing, and the better the racer the better the tales. And when mixed with truth, they truly are better. But sadly it is only the 150mph Sportster, or the 7 second 1/4 mile Ducati, or some other impossibility that piques our interest. And by the time the story is repeated, the Sporty went 175mph, and the Duke is in the fives. And each teller knows someone who knows someone who knew the guy who was a friend of the mechanic who put air in the tires, of a friend who once bought a bike at the shop. Under previous owners. But the connection is still there, and the bench racer still has the rights to tell the story-based on that relationship.

But consider the audience, and how it is more important to the story sometimes than the teller. And as I watched two men I have known for years, talking Triumphs on FOX 69 in San Diego, it was evident they knew their bikes, but not the audience. But I would really lay the fault at the feet, or mike of the interviewer, they only answered the questions he asked, but really on the camera man. While talking Daytona, he was shooting the Thunderbird. Two different bikes. And when talking Bonnevilles, seemed more interested in the Daytona. And if you weren't a rider, you wouldn't know the difference. Because non-riders see us as all the same. Just another loud motorcycle. And while the announcer kept calling the Daytona, I happen to have one in my garage right now, a 675R, a trouble bike-it seems anything with two wheels would get him in trouble. Frankly, him walking across the lot and not being prepared got him in trouble. But with live TV , you get what you get. Remember the turkey drop live on WKRP? At least no bikes were damaged during the interview.

But you were left with Lance revving the motor on a Street Triple-with stock pipes. Quiet, yet that great triple sound. And the last impression to viewers was just another loud motorcycle-loud being I can't hear my cell phone when driving! How about hanging up and drive-law breaker?

And although these guys did a good job, I wouldn't want to base my whole motorcycling experience on this one episode. Yet when the world looks at Christians, that is how they judge us. They think all we do is ask for money. We give-you cannot take an offering. Never realizing all the giving churches and ministries provide. Samaritan's Purse was in Haiti way before any one else, including the UN. No politics involved, only love. When volunteers are needed, you only need to look to the church-and they are there. In fact, only bikers come close to this when a need arises. You see, it is always easier to look on the bad side, and judge. If you think a pastor only works Sunday mornings, spend a few days with him. Calls at 3am, families in crisis, spending 20+ hours for a 60 minute message. Having to deal with all types of people, and yet keep his church running like a business. A profitable business. Churches haven overhead too. And just like those who think all bikes and bikers are crude, he doesn't get much help from the media. If only they worked his hours, they would have a different outlook.

Pray for pastors today. And start a habit of it everyday. They will be judged harsher by God, a tough criteria for anyone thinking they should be a pastor, and even stop by and attend their church. See what really is going on. For like bench racing, the truth is in there somewhere. Except it comes out in love, and not an edited sound byte response. For there is something about THE truth that sets us free, and Jesus is THE truth. And it is times when I see men saved, and joy enter into hurting families that I remember the greatness of being a Christian. And who I represent.

So it is when I ride, and why we each ride the brand we do. We represent them the minute we throw a leg over the saddle. A wise reminder to both Christians and bikers. But really to those that aren't either. Until you have sat in our seats-don't judge us. The view from behind the handlebars is much different than from your car. And the view from the seats in church is much different, also.

Just call it a heavenly perspective. Don't just ask the man who is one, sit with him and enjoy. And be really cool-ride your motorcycle to church! Daytona to Bonneville-any bike beats even the coolest car! And only Jesus is the way! And He is really cool!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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