traces of love

There is a fine line between history and memories for me. For me, memories are what I remember, and anything before that is just history. And watching those who attend the Orange County Vintage Bike Meet the first Sunday of each month, I am finding out I am among the senior group-not quite historic yet, but my memories go back as far as anyone's. I vaguely remember Vellocettes, probably because we had no local dealer, and sad, the two that were there were clean, but very few could relate to them. It seemed most memories were gathered around Triumphs of the sixties, and the Japanese bikes of the seventies. But most seemed to be content in the early eighties. And as I listened, you could tell the story teller's age, and also how precious riding was to him, by his memories, as this was group of mostly men who loved to ride, and loved motorcycles.

It seems we all had a bike that you would fill the oil, and check the gas. I listened to Ray describe running out of gas in 1970, on his 68 Triumph, and how it was the first time he had ever used paper money to fill his 3 1/2 gallon tank, it had never taken a dollar before! I remembered how I felt bad when the pump jockey would come out for 60 cents of gas. Walking by a rather personalized H2 Kawasaki-at least he thought it was pretty, and smelling the two stroke oil among the haze reminded me how good racing castor smelled. And how old girl friends hated it! I guess you if you think the smell of racing castor would make a great cologne you understand. Hearing more ring a ding dings from RD 400's than I had in years, I remembered about lessons I had learned on how fast these little bikes were, and how what two strokes gave up on displacement, they made up in power. Until they died. But mostly the crowd was interested in the Hondas and Kawasakis of the early eighties. And my Suzuki GS1000 was right on the edge. And in some ways stood out, as it is as original as it can be. And when I would tell an admirer that only the tank was repainted, you could tell the sadness, a sorrow that it wasn't all original, so I quit mentioning it. It went from the pretty Suzuki with the painted tank, to the all original GS. Just by never mentioning the tank. You might say, making my own history that day. And among all the Kerker pipes, old leather jackets, old and faded 40 year old t-shirts, and bored girl friends trying to look interested, we all had a good time. And I can't wait to go next month and see new friends I made last week. And listen to the stories they tell, and flood my files with more memories. And maybe even get some history mixed in with those memories. But for now, like on the ride home, my mind is filled with memories of bikes, rides, roads, and all the events that make motorcycles a lifestyle for many of us. And how the memories get older, but the kid who rode back then doesn't. Adults by age only, never in our hearts.

From a historical standpoint it is hard to argue with Jesus. Every religion talks about Him, and even old historians mention Him. From teacher, to rabbi, to carpenter, to devoted son, it seems all religions agree-He did exist. Some even will talk of His death on the cross, although some try to pervert it. But where the line gets drawn, is perhaps best shown when Jesus asked Peter who he said he was. "Thou art the Christ!" Peter answered, and Jesus told him he had answered correctly. But sadly, so many so called Christians, denominational types, and cults deny Him His deity. For being both God and man is what made Him unique. The true son of God who died on the cross for our sins. A fact of history, not of memory.

While home sick one day, a representative of the Watchtower Bible and Tract Society-a Jehovah Witness came to my door. And before the man could give me the literature they pay for, I asked him the same question Jesus asked Peter. And he denied Christ, and started on his cult's diatribe. I told him it is sad he is going to hell, but it is his choice-and God doesn't want him to go, and either do I. And he doesn't have to! Rather than debate, or argue-note to those of you who do, read 2John, I kept insisting he was going to hell without Jesus. Shaking my hand he left, and as I watched, stood with both hands on the hood of his car-thinking. And I hope considering what I had said, as I don't want him to go to hell. That is why Jesus died-and yes, Jesus is deity! He is God! A simple fact, shown in love.

Some know all about Jesus, but only those who believe know Him. It takes faith, just a little, and like the memories yet to be made with new motorcycle friends, Jesus wants to be part of your life. He knows who He is, and wants to know you personally, not just about Him. Whether repainted or in need of paint, He will restore you, and make you a new creature in Him. So when you get together with other new creatures, you all have Him in common. Let the cults have their ideas, you have truth. Only found in Jesus.

Let the memories begin.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

now more than ever-ask the man who owns one!

Cruising down the 15 the other afternoon, standing out among the dull colored grey and black jelly bean shaped cars, was this beautiful, blue Packard. Now Packards have always stood out, in the heyday of luxury and Classics, they were among the top cars to be owned. Built to a standard, instead of a price, they were what luxury was all about, and many a young man heading up the corporate ladder was known to have said "someday I'll own a Packard." And with that same majesty, here was one, cruising at the speed limits over 70 years later. But what had initially caught my eye was its color-one that stood out from even the conservative dark Packard colors.

And at first I thought what an interesting color for this old car, one of the Seventeenth Series, Packard reluctantly added model years to their cars, referring to them as the series from which they had been engineered, (much like Mercedes Benz refers to their cars today, like the 220, 211, 203, 230, etc.) And it turned out it was a 1939, a convertible sedan, like the yellow one Evelyn Mulwray drove in Chinatown. But instead of a light yellow-one of my favorites, this car was the most beautiful light blue, and just the opposite of the other Packard blue, which was so dark it appeared black. And in addition to the color, the other things glowing were the smiles of the old couple driving it, beaming like the blue, as they were enjoying driving their Packard. And like the old ad advised, did they like their Packard? "Just ask the man who owns one."

Now I have this thing for Packards, and was looking through Classic Car that night. And here was a story about another Seventeenth Series car, a sedan. Painted the same color! A special springtime color, it had a metallic to it, just a reminder to those of you who think all cars were black back then. Pottery Blue Iridescent-what a beautiful name for a beautiful color-on a beautiful car. Perhaps the perfect spring color, and with its wide white wall tires, this car just bloomed with spring! Like a shinny Easter Egg on display.

But sadly too many think Easter is about bunnies and eggs. And it is time for their other bi-annual trip to church for these CEO's-Christmas and Easter only attendees. But God chose this time of year, Passover, a time of redemption, to show His love to us. It was a sad Friday-at least at the time, for Jesus. One week earlier He had been greeted in Jerusalem with cheers of "Hosanna," save us, and in less than one week the same crowd was yelling "Crucify Him!" His treasure had sold Him out for 30 pieces of silver-the price of a wounded slave, and even His staunchest supporter, Peter, had denied Him to a teenage girl. And none of them could be found that Friday, at the cross.

But what a difference three days makes. As the disciples found His tomb empty. He has risen, just like He said! And that is why we celebrate Easter today-it truly is a Resurrection Day! And you can be too, just like Jesus promised.

To have Easter, you must first have a Good Friday. You must die to self, and give your life over to Christ. And then you will be raised with Him upon death. Your life, which may be a series of Good Fridays-bad times, loss of friends, and other woes, will be turned into Easter-changed forever, and defeating death! More to life than eggs and bunnies could ever represent.

And so Packard chose the perfect springtime color for this convertible. Two doors of glory, still alive, resurrected if you would, celebrating spring and a new birth. And after a harsh winter, what a pretty car to see. If you aren't celebrating today, maybe you need some resurrecting too. Dump the old, and put on the new! Seek Jesus, and watch as your sad Friday turns into a good one-and then how Easter causes you to celebrate the risen savior-Jesus!

No matter the color of your car, today is a great day to celebrate Jesus. And if you are looking for a new color, let me point you to this Seventeenth Series Pottery Blue Iridescent! A color that reminds me of new life! And may I suggest a savior-Jesus, who will give you new life. First and last in a series, the Alpha and the Omega! A classic savior-and you don't have to wait for Easter!

Ask the men who know Him!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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just between me and God

A note from Pastor Fred Z. about BMW motorcycles we have owned got me thinking this morning. Early in my riding career, when single and it was all about me, and what I rode, I had a string of five BMW's. Each one had its good, and its bad points, and all took me a lot of places. But the most memorable one, was the 1974 R90S. The first production motorcycle with a sport fairing and low bars, it cost $3430 US dollars. An unheard of price when you could get a Harley for less than $2500, or a Z-1 for under two grand. But the addiction was the focus of my life at the time, and when I totaled my new R90/6 in only two days and 400 miles-I was hit and run and left to die by a drunk driver, the only step was up, and it was available.

I was living in Fort Lauderdale at the time, and the S had been on display at Daytona Speed Week. Courtesy of George Jacques, the owner of 441 Cycle Shop, and when I walked into the store to replace my blue wreck, well, the choice was obvious. Added some real Dunstall Low Decibel pipes, and off I went. Across Alligator Alley-before it was a freeway, and took it back the next day for its 600 mile service. But the fact I walked into the dealer was a miracle. When I woke up in the hospital after the last accident, I was on a rotisserie, with my leathers cut off. And could not feel my lower extremities. I was paralyzed from the waist down. Not yet a Christian, I remember calling out to God, a God I didn't believe in, to give me back my legs so I could walk. And this God, who believed in me, answered my prayer. And later that night, walked out of the hospital. In pain, which I would have for years, and still do, but He had answered my prayer. We sometimes forget that HELP is a great prayer, and that God loves sinners too.

And this would be the motorcycle that took me west from Jersey in November of 1975. A very young Christian, I was alone with only one Christian friend, and headed for Albuquerque. Where I was to grow in God in ways I never dreamed possible.

Still single, and still addicted to motorcycles, God and motorcycles were my life, and not always in that order. I still worshipped the S, and even worked at the local BMW shop. I rode faster than I should-big surprise, but never went down. Even won a couple of races between ghost towns, and the bike and I became known within the biker community of Albuquerque, which by the way, was and still is a great biker town.

But as you grow in God, you find you cannot worship two Gods. And God doesn't like to share you with anyone. And it was becoming evident that the S was getting between us. This bike that had taken me across the US of A, and was the most important thing in my life had to go. But I was ignorant, and stubborn, and resisted God, until one day He changed my heart. He was and is pro-biker, He just wants to be first in your life. And through our BMW mechanic Rocky-a real biker, he introduced me to this girl who would trade me her 1975 Yamaha 500 and cash for my bike. And I couldn't wait to sell it. Very humbling-selling this rare hi-performance bike to a girl, but that's the way God wanted it. I didn't keep the Yamaha long, but it was the most humbling experience in my young Christian walk at the time. And even close friends didn't get it, but God did.

He wants nothing to come between us. He wants total access to our lives, and when He means no other Gods before Him, He means no others! And includes motorcycles! But while the S was replaced by a lesser ride, it also was replaced with a larger God. And I began to grow in Christ, without the stumbling block of the S. A companion for over 40,000 miles in two years, I had given her up for real love. And a God who loved me so much He had given His only son.

Things between you and God may start subtle, and I know the excuses. If you are making them, stop. He didn't take away the love of motorcycling, just the worship of one bike. He humbled me, when He could have humiliated me, but God isn't like that. When I finally sought Him first, then He added things to me, and better than I could ask. Giving life to Matthew6:33. For it is also true our battle is not between flesh and blood, but power and principalities. Some have two wheels, some four. Some go up your nose, some feed your ego. But none can replace what God has for you. Nothing is as precious as God!

I was only saved for a year when God allowed me to sell the S. It was my decision. But it taught me at an early age to TRUST GOD! He knows the plans He has for you-good ones. He orders your steps, or roads. And His word is a lamp unto your feet. Or the road ahead.

Your life will always be between you and God. Just make sure that nothing gets between you and the God who loves you. Kings and kingdoms, as well as motorcycles will fade away, but there's something about that name. Jesus Christ!

Ride with Him today! With the only thing between you His love. A love for motorcycles that is only surpassed by my love for Him! Which is truly surpassed by His love for us!

Jesus loves bikers, too. Shaft, chain, or belt. He loves to ride them all.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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two of a kind still beats a full house

The big news in the touring motorcycle world is the new BMW Six cylinder motorcycle. The first six cylinder motorcycle introduced in almost 30 years, it is putting the touring world into features heaven. And as I am about to celebrate 40 years of having my motorcycle license, it is also almost 40 years since I had my first of five BMW's.

British what? No one knew what BMW stood for then, and what the heck is a Bavarian? But those who rode did, and when Cadillac was still the Standard of the World for luxury cars, those who rode called BMW the Cadillac. Spartan, austere bikes, they were an opposed twin, with those big ugly cylinders sticking out. And in a world that was almost all twins, V-twin Harleys, parallel twin Nortons and Triumphs, BMW's cylinders literally stuck out in a two cylinder world. And touring bikes were all about touring. And BMW was king. Not because of what we call luxury today, but because they were reliable. You could actually ride one over 10,000 miles, or out of town and make it back. Where Harleys and Triumphs leaked, BMW's weeped oil. Tell that to my garage. Whereas all other bikes had chains, and belts were still used to hold up your pants, BMW had a shaft. Quirky bikes that didn't use a key, but could be started using a nail or popsicle stick-no one stole BMWs, a big vibration damper knob on the top of the forks, and a big comfy seat, they were made for the open road. Earles forks, and an under stressed engine, they were reliable for their day. And ugly-no one bought a BMW for looks. But it was the shaft that made them a touring bike, not all the luxury gizmos. And in 1970, BMW was changing the way they did business. And how we redefined touring.

Then their /5 series came out, 500, 600, and 750ccs of power. Colors! Where they were always only black or white-tradition had it every 1000th bike was white, now they were also blue, gold, and red. With huge chrome side panels on the tank, gaining them the nickname "Toaster," for that is what they looked like. And with enhanced engine performance, they would run with the big bikes. At least the 750. And still were reliable, and still shaft driven. My first BMW was an R60/5, a 1972. Bought from Sleger-Forbes, the dealership Malcolm Forbes started with legendary Hank Slegers to feed his motorcycle addiction, they were the first mega dealer. And sold Honda, Triumph, BSA, Yamaha, Ossa, and some other lesser brands. In an era when no one discounted, they offered to pay the sales tax if you paid cash. And whereas NJ had state inspection off site, they had one on-site. And for $1600 out the door, I bought my BMW, and was going to wait until spring to pick it up-they also stored your bike for free if purchased from them. But by January I couldn't wait any longer, and on a warmer, sunny day, picked it up. And the rest is history.

Performance was still spelled speed in those days, but to BMW it meant arriving, not how long it took. My R60 was not very fast as bikes go, my 350 Honda was just as fast, but it was the lure of the shaft. No master links to carry as many of my friends did. No chain lube all over your back. Your date could stay clean back there. With no fear of vibrating off. And on cold days, keeping your feet under the cylinders kept them warm. To BMW competition meant never breaking, not how fast you got there. And whereas today without bags and a windshield you aren't a touring bike, back then it meant shaft. Euro guys used tank bags, and real bikers slept in their clothes. No radios, no windshield, and no chains. Only two cylinders, you could go over 200 miles for $1.25, and your bike would make it back home again. So what if it was slow, the road was the destination, and 40 years ago, BMW told us what touring bikes were all about. The destination was up to you. Things would change for them in 1974 with the R90S, but for now, simple, slow, reliable, and safe was the way to go. Don't fix what ain't broken, and spend your time twisting a throttle instead of a wrench. Good advice even today.

Don't fix what ain't broken. Good advice no matter the situation. Keeping things simple, and not setting out to reinvent the wheel, only to end up with a flat tire. Wind in your face, and bugs in your teeth. We were much simpler bikers back then. And we could tell what you were riding by its sound. Or in BMW's case lack of sound. And you never had to add oil. Almost too good to be true to any biker 40 years ago.

Christianity is simple, and it is easy to become one. But it is not easy being a Christian. For Jesus said in this world you will have tribulation. Don't confuse that with it being easy to become one. Believe in your heart, and confess with your mouth and your are saved, the Bible tells us. But then the need to grow close to Jesus becomes more evident. You see sin where you never saw it before. It is a daily battle, where you work out your daily salvation with fear and trembling. Not working to keep your salvation, but like an athlete in the gym, bulking yourself up in the word, and growing in Jesus. Keeping your life under stressed, by looking to God, rather than feeding your ego. And enjoying the ride of your life more, not a sprint, but an endurance race as Paul calls it.

I often talk to some "hi-performance" Christians, who must always be doing something for God, everything except resting in Him. And sadly when they burn out, they crash. Not the way God wants it. So I take a simple way with God. God calls it abiding in the vine. And when close to God, you will be safe, and joyful. God is enough to meet any and all desires. Dependable, consistent, and always there. A chain that never breaks, a shaft that is reliable. And because of Him, you will go farther than you ever dreamt.

The gospel is simple. Keep it that way. Don't let BMW mean broke my wallet. And let the name of Jesus mean Lord in your life. Ride and live and enjoy life.

Oh, and by the way, we never called them Beemers!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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Lee, Randy, motorcycles, and Jesus

Ephesians 3:20 tells us that God wants to bless us more than we can ask for or even imagine. And yesterday was one of those days. A day, that on the surface would appear sad, but to the heart was a tremendous blessing.

My friend Randy was buried yesterday. We had met when we were both part of a common motorcycle ministry. But unlike many who like to wear a back patch to show they are a Christian, Randy never needed one. And whenever we would meet, rather than ask for prayer, we just prayed. Never much for small talk, we were about God's business, and happy to be doing it. We got closer when this same ministry lost its integrity and allowed legalism and the spirit of Phairsees to dictate it. And he and I were both chastised by it for choosing Jesus over their rules. Not in sin, we just chose to walk with God rather than with an organization. And when he was hospitalized last year, I visited, and rather than bitterness towards not one of them who didn't visit, felt compassion for them. Missing a chance to walk their talk, they showed their true hearts. But Randy and I prayed for them, and still do, for people only care abut how much you know, when you show how much you care. Meekness God calls it, not reacting to them, but reacting in love. Loving them despite their sin. And we continue today to pray for them.

Randy would e-mail me encouragement from time to time, just a short note since we both dislike small talk. Gossip we called it. And the last note I got two weeks ago came at the right time, like they always seemed too. And seeing Cheryl, his wife yesterday glowing through the tears, reminded me of how we had been there for each other, and were friends. One that I will and do miss. And of course the service was all about Jesus, just as Randy's heart was. A blessing, far above all we could ask or imagine.

When Cheryl asked if I would be at the reception, I had to answer no. As I had other business. I was saying goodbye to another friend, who had stood by me in another way. I was selling my Scrambler, which was so easy to do, but difficult. A gift from God, I had wanted one when I first saw the prototype. Cool in a way that only Steve McQueen was, it was modeled after his 1964 ISDT bike, with the high pipes. Cool in any group, from Harleys to sport bikes, I had wanted one. And the day that Andrew and I went to OCT to buy a Bonneville black-I had decided to build one with Mickey like the MI3 bike, Todd came up to me, excited, they were trading for one. And if I wanted it, could have it for what they were offering the guy. Which I did, and in a way only God could orchestrate, the man was selling the Scrambler I desired, and buying a Tiger like I had. And for four years, and over 20,000 miles, wherever I rode, the smile was always there. God's blessings don't erode over the miles. But it was time to sell, and God sent the perfect new owner. And so after Randy's service, I was going to change the oil at Mick's, and deliver the bike to Kyle. A final 150 mile ride to say goodbye if you would. Remorsefully, I understood how some of the people on American Pickers felt when making the decision to part with something they had for awhile. We get sentimental, and sometimes it is hard to let go. But knew I was doing the right thing. It was Kyle's turn, and I know he will enjoy it. Let the blessings continue for him.

But the day wasn't quite over yet, as we had dinner with Theresa's dad and Ballerini and her family. And afterwards, Theresa went by and picked up a DVD of Lee's service. I have spoken many times, but watching myself for the first time I was amazed. I thought back to what Kerry Lynn had told me-it's one thing to read my devotions, but another to be written about. And as God's words for Ballerini and family flowed, I was mesmerized, and blessed by the love of God. Three times in one day I was able to see His good gifts, via two good friends who stood with Jesus in the tough times, and how our common denominator was Jesus. And how He used motorcycles to bring us all together.

Truly it is all about Jesus. And when you put Him first, before any club, church, ministry, or even a motorcycle, He blesses. Way beyond. My friends Lee and Randy know that first hand, they are there. But we still have work to do here. People to love, and show the love of Christ. Some who have only heard the message, but never were shown it. And to some who think a back patch with God's name on it makes you a minister of the gospel, it takes Jesus, and without Him, you are just feeding your flesh. Just like if I had kept the Scrambler for myself. The gospel is about Jesus-not us!

Sometimes you just have to move on, and I know Ballerini and Cheryl will. I pray that as they cling to God, the Pharisee types see the truth in them. As they continue to preach the gospel daily, only using words when needed. Love doing what no rules could do. Perhaps that is what makes my friends special. They care about others more than they do themselves. And is evident in the fact we all share Jesus!

Randy and Lee both fought the good fight. Cancer may have taken their lives, but couldn't take their souls. Together in heaven, pain free, cancer free, and religion free. Only Jesus-just like Randy used to say! On a day that should have brought sorrow, when placed in the hands of a living God brought joy. More than I could ever have hoped for or imagined.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the language of motorcycles

ADDICTED! For Guy, his escape is a custom Harley with 122hp. Theresa's is a Bonneville. Stu's drug of choice is a Gold wing. For Spud, any of the bikes with a shield and bar in the showroom. Nathan gets his fix from his Scrambler. Mickey tells me there is no replacement for displacement. Andrew has to do it in the dirt. For me it takes a Tiger, and a few weeks and a few time zone changes. What we all have in common is the addiction to motorcycles. And there is only one sure cure-go riding! So we do! And although some worship at the house of Honda, or Triumph, or Harley, or heaven forbid-Ducati, we all are regular attendees to the motorcycle shrine of our choice.

And most all of us started when young. Watching a friend, then getting rides on the back. Finally wearing down our parents-"you'll get killed, or worse!" But finally getting our own bike, and finally understanding freedom. Freedom tied to the twist of a wrist, that unleashes power and joy found nowhere else. Instant smile! And a joy unspeakable. And once you are bitten, you may never get cured, and for many it has become a lifelong addiction. At first brand didn't matter, just the fact you had a bike to ride. Honda or Hodaka, Jawa or Japanese-just so you had a throttle to twist, horsepower or no power-you were riding!

But soon brands and models mattered. So did size, and whose t-shirt you wore. And you were always reading the cycle mags to see what was new, and trying to figure out how you were going to afford your next ride. The next I'll never need another after this bike fix. Which you would perform and repeat throughout your life. Maybe the most consistent aspect of your life.

When I first got saved, all I wanted to do was fellowship with other believers. Anyone who wanted to talk about Jesus was OK. Then I got plugged into a church, and then another. And as I got closer to God, my peer group would change to those who were seeking more of what God had to offer. Following God, and walking in the spirit, it took me places I never knew existed. Until one day after almost 18 years, God took us to another church. And following His direction, have been very blessed. But some don't get it. And wonder how we could change. And why? And rather than rejoicing over us following God's lead felt slighted. Like I had changed brands. Or deserted God altogether. Not fully realizing that if we didn't have Jesus in common, we had nothing to start with. And following God was the only place to feed my need.

Zmicer's ministry to street kids in Minsk, Belarus reminds me of both of the above. The ministry, using motorcycles, reaches out to these kids. Who have nothing, and where the brand doesn't matter. So they ride, broken and scratched, but they ride, and look forward to it-with no biases except when it is my turn next? And through this experience, Zmicer shares Jesus with them. Gives them hope in life, and takes them in. And has started translating the same devotions you read every day, into Russian! And the kids are responding to the gospel. I have sent shirts, and stickers, so they feel like part of a bike club. No rules, just Jesus. And motorcycles-and it just don't get any better! And I am reminded of how good it felt just to be riding when younger. And also to worship God when first saved before rules, legalism, so called ministries, and denominations got in the way. And I wish the same on all of us. Can we go back to when Jesus was fresh and new? Before you followed a teacher, or pastor? Before a club or ministry robbed you of your freedom, and you were free? Can we go back to riding, and knowing the freedom of regulating the fun factor by just twisting the throttle?

If riding is the language of motorcycles, then Jesus is the language of God. And love. Let no one speak any other language, for His says it all. More freedom than riding, and you can be with Him always. And He will ride with you. Just like the kids in Minsk are finding out. In a world where we are all taught the rules, the thou shalt nots, aren't you glad that freedom still exists in the spirit?

Pray for Zmicer and his club. Matthew 25 Bikers. Who may not know all the ins and outs of the Bible like some, or the freedom of the road like those who ride. But they understand that something special happens when you do either one-and desire more of it. Who can't wait for the next time to ride-and get excited when Jesus is shared.

Just a simple addiction, with no apparent antidote. So feed your need today and go riding. Keeping the kids in Minsk in prayer. And keep Jesus in your heart. Jesus and motorcycles-no way does it ever get any better! Reminded by some street kids in Minsk that the language of motorcycles is universal, just like God's love. And no language is a barrier when they gather together.

Think I'll go riding. Just got done praying, and I need to feed my need! See you in church or on the road-maybe both! The language of motorcycles, spoken from Milwaukee to Hinckley, to Tokyo, to wherever motorcycles are found. And Jesus-He is the language of love. Spoken even in Minsk-thanks for the reminder.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

where's the fire, chief?

It seems there is at least one in every crowd who stands out from the group. When called to lead, the exhibit unique leadership qualities. some are learned or trained, as in the Armed Services, and some just appear, as if innate, born leaders we call them. But borrowing on the old adage that it "takes two to tango," and not that horrible GEICO commercial, if you are a successful leader, you must have a successful following. It only makes sense, right? Right!?

The final Torches Across America ride left Oceanside in record heat. And by the time we reached Cajon Pass by mid-morning, it was already over 100. In fact it would reach 124 on a thermometer we saw. Causing the glue on my Arai helmet to melt, but thanks to duct tape, I was secure-just looked nerdy the rest of the trip. We were fortunate on this ride to have Chief Bruce with the San Diego Fire Department with us, and about a half dozen of his men. They tended to stay right with him during the trip, with him leading of course. As we made it up the pass, I was just ahead of them as the traffic slowed to a crawl. Suddenly I heard chirping of brakes, squealing of tires, and as I looked to my right I noticed Bruce had suddenly pulled from the fast lane across three lanes of traffic to the side, and his six men were following him. They had seen him suddenly pull over, and as they had probably done many times before, followed his lead. Trusting that what he did would be the correct thing to do, as while fighting a fire it could be life saving. So instinctively, and based on trust and years of working together, when Bruce pulled right, so did they-without looking.

Causing the rest of us to pull over, cautiously of course. And as the thirty some bikes parked on the shoulder, we all went back to see what happened. And Bruce seemed a bit sheepish, whereas before he was a bit outspoken. When asked what happened, he replied, "I was trying to turn down the radio on my bike, and hit the kill switch by accident, causing the bike to stall, and when I lost power had to get off the road." Panicking in a panic situation, out of character for him, his men acted in character, and followed him. Whether through experience or through respect, where the boss went, they followed. And fortunately none were hurt, although all were embarrassed. And of course Bruce was reminded for the next 3200 miles about turning his radio down while riding, but nothing was said in reference to his men. I cannot tell if this event is a reflection of his leadership, or their obedience, but it takes two, and here we had seven. We were all glad they were OK!

Jesus asked "why do you call me Lord if you do not do the things I ask?" Fair question, and one many try to elude. Do we trust God enough to follow Him when the road gets tough? When we get into uncharted territory for the first time, and keeping our eyes on Him, like Bruce's men did on him? Or are we just along for the ride, and when God changes lanes-in control without a radio, keep going? You see Bruce's men were trained to follow their leader, for if they didn't it could be dangerous or even life threatening. Yet we don't pay God the same respect. Is not God a better leader than Bruce? Has He or do you know anyone He has led astray?

Lost, who do you call to? In need or scared, who do you go to? And when He instructs you, do you listen? Godly advice only works when taken. And sadly reflects on your disobedience instead of His Godliness. Unlike a good audience making a good speaker, God is God despite us, and doesn't have to rely on us for His reputation. Which by the way is perfect. So we need to ask ourselves the question, why do we call Him Lord and not obey?

Simply put, it is hard to trust someone you don't know. Bruce's men know him, and respect the title and what it means. So get to know God, and respect Him as God. He doesn't have to prove Himself, isn't the fact that He is God enough? That He created the world out of nothing? And that only Jesus can save you from hell? Isn't that enough to cause you to pay attention? And listen?

Bruce had obviously led his men through danger before. Stop and think, then thank God for what He has done for you. And if you can't hear God over the radio, turn it down. And avoid the kill button! The still, small voice of Jesus can be heard over everything and anything if you are listening.

STOP! LOOK! LISTEN! The same sign at railroad crossings just might save your life, and your soul! Ride safe, and may you all have many more miles left to travel. And who you follow will determine where you are going-and where you end up!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogpsot.com