the seasons of love,part 3-spring

Theresa wanted to live in a cabin, in the mountains, so we moved to Vallecito Lake, 27 miles from Durango, at 8300' altitude. It don't get more mountainous than that. And as we learned, the Rockies get a lot of snow, 500" the first winter, but only 300" our second. Meanwhile...I had bought a new 1981 KZ750 from my friend Tom in Salida. Using Don Atencio's truck, I had picked it up in November, and stored it in the basement, which was accessible from the lower level, and there it had sat-all winter! With only 20 miles on it, and the 6 month warranty running out soon, I was concerned the warranty would run out before winter would!

Oh the pain of it all! But the hope of spring kept us going. Too bad it takes so long. But many succumb to the cold, below zero as a high, the snow, and the cabin fever. I couldn't ride, but I at least could go sit on. So I did, with the hope of an early spring keeping me going. And sometime in April, my impatience was rewarded. We had some days in the 50's, then the 60's, and the snow was melting fast. And when it got down to only about two feet deep, I couldn't stand it any more, and decided to dig a path to the street. Simple, you say. Well...we lived about 100' off the street, down a steep hill, you could sled on it, and the only access was an old BLM road that was so bad the ruts were a foot deep. But I could see the street-nothing was going to stop me!

So I was up early, and digging a three foot wide path to the street-and freedom. Which seems easy, until you do it. Essentially you are digging a long, deep rut with two foot walls of snow surrounding you. At noon, I had gone all of 25 feet, and was sore, tired, impatient, and not sure if I would make it. Those were the good things. But I had help, reluctant at first, from my wife, who started digging with me. Now the old saying that a job and a wife have been the ruin of many a biker isn't true of her. I had a good job at Coke, and a great wife who loved to ride. All the encouragement I needed, although a D-8 Cat would be nice. So we finally got to the street, just before dark, and it was time for the bike. The plan was I would ride it up the path we made, which meant it had to start-which it hadn't since November. To our amazement it started right off, and then backed it out-only to find I needed to dig more so I could turn it around. Excitement had interrupted my sense of planning. At this point I was going to get to the street even if it was my last conscious act. So here I finally was-pointed up the hill, bike running, and took off!

Now does the expression "slicker than snot " mean anything to you? If not, you have never encountered Colorado red clay-which is "STS!" And with water running in the ruts from melting snow, and fist sized rocks lining the bottom, it was a hill climb of the first degree! And after a few runs, never made it more than a few feet. Thou shalt not repeat the words from my mouth.

Remember that old saying about the biker and his wife-well this wife came to my rescue-pushing while I tried to hang on, bouncing and twisting up to the street. While mud, rocks, and cold water mixed with snow pelted her. I was so busy on what was ahead of me, I didn't see her getting nailed by all the above, and when I hit pavement, took off for a few miles. I was free! The official start of spring had begun.

With my adrenaline still pumping I returned, and I was shocked to see her. "What happened to you?" And no flowers or candy, well maybe chocolate was going to make this situation better. She was covered with mud, in her hair, her face, her clothes, and when she went to take a shower even found it in her underclothes. Amazing stuff-mud. But the bike was free, the weather was nice, and spring was in the air. Even if it was also all over my wife.

God shows us signs of the seasons, and while we wait patiently for spring to arrive, we still have to endure winter. Some get impatient, wondering if it will ever arrive, struggling through cabin fever, wondering if the promise of spring will ever arrive, then forgetting how bad winter was when it does. As Christians we are patiently awaiting the call from heaven, with the sound of the trumpet to call us home. The rapture, as we call it, has been promised for 2000 years. And while some grow weary, even wondering where is God in this promise, we who remain wait faithfully. For just like the signs of spring, when we see them we know we will be riding soon. Winter will be gone, and our waiting is done.

Today the signs are all around. Watching the news headlines is like seeing scripture come alive. Winter will soon be gone, and spring will be here-expressed in God's love as we all arise to heaven. But we must be patient, as no path digging, or early season snow melting helps it along. Signs won't get you there-only Jesus will. God's timing is perfect, and Jesus is patiently waiting for the sound when we all are gathered with Him.

And unlike my new bike warranty that would expire in time, no matter if the bike was ridden or not, God is faithful, His promise to us never ending. Be patient-endure to the end like we did. And remember you are not alone. God sent me the prefect helper that day-Theresa. And she remains to this day-although that was the last time we ever dug the bike out. We were ready in the future-prepared for what spring promised us. We moved to Southern California.

Get right with God today. Springtime, aka the rapture could happen at any moment. Don't miss any riding time, aka time to share Jesus now. Waiting to dig out the bike will be too late. We are closer today than we have ever been before.

Springtime in the Rockies, all because Theresa had to live in the mountains. And I couldn't wait to get my new bike out. Jesus is coming soon to get us out! Let this lesson be the push you need to rise above your situations and be ready.

MARANATHA! Truly spring is all about love. Just for that, I think I'll go riding. And thank the Lord.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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the four seasons of love, part 2-winter

Cathy and I got to be friends after she broke up with her boyfriend and started hanging out with our "gang" again. She was was very pretty, with long brown hair down to her waste, and also my friend Joe's sister. In these BC days, before Christ, I was very wild, and when we started getting to be friends, she was warned. I was told. But being independent, she was fine, as I respected her, and also for the fact that not Big Brother, but her brothers were watching. There was always the constant reminder of "not with my sister" hanging in the air, but we became close anyway. Never quite boyfriend/girlfriend, but we spent so much time together that a casual observation might lead you to think otherwise.

We lost touch after I got saved and moved to Albuquerque, but when I drove back to Jersey with my best friend Terry and his sister, Geralyn, my first call from my parents house was to Cathy. It was Christmas break, and she came right over. Something magical was going on between us, and we spent ever waking moment, and some non-waking moments together. Christmas was in the air, and talked of getting married. Things seemed so right that Christmas, and even Lance thought we would make "a fine Christian couple," although it would be less than six months until she was saved. Even Joe thought it was a good idea-so the planning began. And it was fun, until we discovered one obstacle that we couldn't overcome. My life was in New Mexico, hers was in Jersey. And neither one of us would move. And then it became evident that although the feelings of love were there, it takes more than feelings to be in love. We decided to wait, which is just like saying nothing is like saying no. It was my first experience with God telling me no. And my first lesson on what no meant. It meant that He had something better planned for me. A lesson He would repeat to me many times again.

Pastor David Jeremiah tells the story of two people who went to his church. We will call them Barbie and Ken. Ken was handsome, talented, and destined for greatness. Barbie was pretty, smart, and both loved the Lord. The story around the church was what a great couple they would make for God, and they planned to get married after college. But at the last minute, before the wedding, Ken had a decision to make-the hardest one ever. His heart was in ministry-in Africa, and Barbie wanted to stay home and have kids. So much in love, but also in love with God. A few days before the big event, and it was to be BIG, Ken told her that he could not abandon the dream that God had given him, and unless she wanted to go overseas, he could not marry her. She understood, and through the tears they both went on with God.

Ken prospered in Africa, starting churches, and keeping in contact with his home church. His contact was a young secretary, who we will call Betsy. He and Betsy got close during letters, phone calls, and on his first visit back. But you could tell something special was between them, and the girls wondered, dare they set them up on a date? Which turned out to be the best thing for them. They fell in love, and got married. Betsy shared Ken's dream for establishing churches, and at the time I first heard this story, some 20 years ago, they had started over 150 churches in villages where no Jesus had been before. Together they were a mighty team for God. But it took a no from God, that was followed by a mighty yes to bless them both.

My yes came just in time for that next Christmas. And I will be celebrating my 35th Christmas with my wife and best friend this year. Like Ephesians tells us, God gives us more than we could ever ask for or ever imagine-and He delivered with Theresa. But it took that no, and even coming so close with Cathy, for God to get my attention. With Theresa I have the perfect partner, we both love Jesus, minister together, and ride together. Like the old Turtle song says "I can't see me loving nobody but you, for all my life!" And that's how God has made us. Happy. Together.

Jesus, Theresa, and motorcycles. It don't get much better. And a lesson on God's love,and how no means something better yet to come. For it is true Jesus is the reason for the season-and He has given me a wonderful wife to remind me of that every season. Every day. For love is more than emotions, it is a person. Now that's love-that's Jesus.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogpsot.com

the four seasons of love, part 1-fall

Unto everything there is a season. The Byrds taught us that in the sixties in their song "Turn, Turn, Turn." So many sang it and even quoted it, never realizing they were quoting the book of Ecclesiastes. A season which brought Roger McGuinn, lead guitarist to the Lord. A season where he first fell in love with Jesus. A time he learned that love isn't seasonal, but eternal.

The first year being a sophomore in our town meant going to the high school, we still had junior and senior highs in those days. And as scary as it was, the stories were told of how sophomores would be singled out and sometimes beat up, we went warily, but excitedly, being the underclassmen, as we were no longer the big shots like last year. That day had passed. And on the first days of school that fall, we noticed many things. Girls in particular. They had all grown up over the summer.
The once time tomboy with braces, somehow had turned into a woman, with curves and everything. Her hair even had style, and as you looked at yourself, you still looked the same, and as you stopped to talk to her you realized with her new found beauty, she now had confidence-which scared you! Was she going to give me all the grief I once gave her? Even her braces were gone, no more "tin grin" jokes here. Truly you had to look at her from a new perspective. You had to act mature, even if you weren't? I can still feel my face breaking out. How bad did it really show? Do you think she noticed?

But taking time to meet her, you found her to be nice, and forgiving of you, and wondered if she was always that nice. Her mother later would tell you her little baby was always this sweet. You found opportunities to sit by her in class, maybe even walk by her locker. And you knew her friends, and sadly she knew yours. Hopefully you had grown up enough to not act like them. Then the word got out she thought you were pretty cute, which only brought out more zits in the excitement, and after stressing and with the help of lots of Clearasil, you asked her to the dance on Saturday night. The first big dance, with a live band, and it was advertised "Stag or Drag." And once someone more sophisticated than you, one of her friends, explained drag meant a date, you understood the discount. Which if she said no at first, would be your fall back position, "see it would make sense to go together, save a buck." So when she said yes the first time, and you didn't have to go to plan B, it was almost disheartening, for you had practiced all weekend, never thinking she-beautiful and grown up, would go with you, zits and all. But she said yes, and the five days to Saturday seemed like they only took two weeks. Good thing Mom bought you the BIG tube of Clearasil!

After going in with her, and trying to talk over the loud music, you realized you were going to have to dance eventually. Sadly your whole history of dancing was with your friends, who would make fun of the others. Panic time! But you asked, something cool like "wannadance," all one word, she accepted, and found out later she was just as scared as you. Maybe all that cold sweat was for nothing! Note-extra Right Guard next time. And then they played a slow dance. The time you had dreamed of. As you put your arms around her, while concentrating on your feet, so as to not step on hers, you felt her next to you, closer than ever before. She even felt like a woman. And as you put your arms around her shoulders, she put hers around your waist. HEAVEN! This was too good to be true! She was hugging back! And she wasn't my aunt or my mother. And for the next three minutes, nothing else in the world mattered. Did the music really have to stop? And as you two went to sit down, you were exhausted, you didn't know slow dancing took so much energy. Then she took your hand-and held it in hers. So you squeezed it back, she smiled, and no words could express the feeling-you liked her-and better yet, she liked you!

The rest of the dance was a blur, as it went so fast. Good times always seem to do that. And when the dance ended at 11, she had until midnight to be home. And you used every minute of it to walk her home, not wanting to want the evening to end, making every second last. Holding hands. Finally a kiss-WOW, and then home. She said she would call to make sure you made it OK. And even though you would face your parents wrath for being late-you were to be home at 1130, it was worth it. Time can be so short and cruel when in love.

Your whole life changed that night, as later she would wear your ID bracelet, and sit with you at lunch-without your friends to poke fun at you, they were so immature. There would be weekends at the mall, bowling nights, Saturday afternoons at the football game, where she thought you were so smart knowing so much about sports, and the pizza parlor after with friends. Homework together only an excuse to see her. Even holding hands on cold evenings with gloves on was special. She was your first love, and although there would be others, she would be the one that all others would be compared to. Hopefully she too, would remember her first dance, first hug, first holding of hands, and then her first kiss. And you hoped it would be the kiss all others, including her husbands, would be compared too. For fall dances meant new love, and a whole school year with her to enjoy it.

When you came to Christ, the time came when you discovered how much He really loved you. More than a sentence to death in Sunday School, or having to go to church, now you wanted to. With others who were saved also. And the change in you was dramatic, just like when you met the girl who was transformed over the summer. You still looked the same, but inside beat a new heart. With new attitudes, that caused new actions. And life was worth the living, because Jesus lived in your heart.

But somewhere along the way, life interfered, and the light dimmed with Him. He didn't change, you did. And as you did different things, you found yourself comparing them to Jesus, as your first love. And nothing ever compared to living for Him. Even though you tried, cars, girls, vacations, and even motorcycles couldn't take His place. He was your first love. So if you find yourself singing this tune today, it's time to return to your first love. Come home to Jesus. He will welcome you with open arms. He misses you too. And you will wonder why you ever wandered from your first love.

First loves are like that. You will always look back fondly to your first girlfriend. Some call it the good old days. But Jesus tells us these are the good old days. And they stretch into tomorrow, next month, next year, and into eternity. Roads that don't end, with the one who first loved you along-Jesus. Return to Him now, so many roads, and so little time. But He knows, and provides eternity-to ride with Him.

Romance may come and go in a season. The love of Jesus lasts forever.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

would you like fries with that?

Every once in a while, I just want a regular hamburger. Nothing fancy, just a burger patty between two buns, with ketchup. Maybe a slice of American cheese. So when I get the look from the waitress like Jack Nicholson did in Five Easy Pieces when he tried to order toast, I know I'm in trouble. Why would you want just a burger when you can have a peanut butter/gourmet cheese/range raised/gluten free bun/with organic ketchup and organic onion and tomato? You have to ask? Veggie burger or some turkey parts thing-that's unconstitutional! Yet, we have become a designer oriented society. Continually coming up with new recipes-I will avoid the improved or so called better tasting here. It seems that we have become bored, and are trying to improve everything from coffee-now it's latte, to burgers. But some of us still like the old stand by-a burger, fries, and a Coke. It don't get much more American than that. Cue to America the Beautiful. "Oh beautiful for hamburgers...."

Now you can order your gourmet burger-you mean the rest of us up to our elbows in Double Double aren't gourmets? Excuse my paper napkin! But in addition you get trendy names, they get to charge more, and more than once I left still just wanting a basic burger. Not the Super Wally, or the even more Yuppie sounding Sonoma burger. Now we have steak burgers-ever hear of Steak and Shake-been doing it for over 70 years? How about a Portuguese Whopper, or a Monterey Burger? Can you even find Monterey on the map? I had a Mercury Monterey once. Isn't Portugal as a country going bust? And please-don't give me anything else named Mc Something. Gag me! While I get Mc Sick. I used my coupon for a free cheeseburger at Wendy's the other day-NO plain hamburgers were listed on the menu? What would Dave Thomas say? Wasn't he the one who told us the most important bites of the HAMBURGER were the first and last? Built a business on that, too.

Even White Castle-"Buy 'em by the bag!" has BBQ now and veggie burgers. Tommies will give you extra chili for no extra charge. "The regular" they advertise. What will the next generation tell their children? "Yes son, we used to have hamburgers, but no one wanted them anymore. They were like the Diet burgers you like, except they had meat. Let me show you a picture of one-hear they even tasted pretty good too." Seems fries have gone the same route, now you can have them with cheese and chili-YUM, Boardwalk fries, crinkle cut, Tater Tots, fresh(the others aren't?) or steak or thin. Want a Coke? Is that New, Diet, Zero, Classic, Cherry, Vanilla, or any diet variation of them? No wonder it takes so long in line. Never has ordering food taken so long, or been so exasperating.

Sadly just as we are losing coffee counters, burger stands, and the real thing-Coke, we are also facing the same dilemma in church. Just read the signs out front. "The friendly church" as he tells me I can't park my bike there. Any various combination of names including Baptist. Maybe they should put the infamous Rodney King saying on their sign, "why can't we all just get along?" And so it goes, from orthodox to fundamental, to liberal, to apostate, to New Age. Every generation tries to improve on what it felt what the previous generations failures were. True, no denomination was ever started thinking that it would do things worse-somehow without God it just ends up that way. Churches got religious. That was one reason they hated Jesus-He wasn't. He spoke the truth. No diet theology here. No give me a #2 without salvation. No supersized promises that no one could keep. You mean the Bible doesn't say that? He spoke the truth. Simply. Called it the gospel-good news. And it still is today where it is not only preached, but practiced. No coupons, free gifts, or two for one promises. Just the simple truth-we sinned and need a savior. His name is Jesus. Do you want to be saved, say yes to Him. No-go to hell. Your choice. Much easier than ordering dinner at a burger joint?

When you accept Jesus you get it all. Love, joy, peace, and patience. No picking from a list, takes too long. And you would screw it up anyway. "Let's see today, I don't have time for patience. Wish I could tell you how humble I am. Do I really have to screw up to get God's mercy?" I feel so glad that none of us go to the first Church of Pinocchio. We would never talk like that.

So just give me Jesus. Straight up. The way He has been for over 2000 years. Don't change the formula, don't add rules. Don't even tell me where to park. Or where to sit. Just give me Jesus. You can keep your rules, I'll keep my morals.

Funny, I don't recall when Jesus fed the 5000 fish and bread where he said "will that be fried or broiled? White or wheat? How many in your party? Or that will be $$ at the drive up."

Original is still the best. From burgers to Jesus, the gospel still means good news. And no matter what you add doesn't improve on it.

Now, does anyone know a scripture about chocolate milk shakes?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

it's about time

When I look back to tickling carbs to start my bike, then kicking it instead of pushing a button, I am reminded how simple life can be. When I think about how I used to pull out the choke to start my car, I am reminded of a procedure done by hand, not by computer. When I think of how we used to start our cars on cold mornings, then go back in for one more cup of coffee, I am impressed with how far they have come. For even then, if we did sit in it while it warmed up, so we wouldn't stumble off, we had no cup holders. Remember the first cups with lids on them, and how Circle K had a dash mounted cup? My friend Fred even put one on his motorcycle. Tapes won't play in extreme cold, so you had just an AM radio playing top hits, or listening to yesterday's news today. Listening for something new, but it being too early in the day for anything to have yet happened. With every five minutes being told how cold it was, just in case you missed a sudden surge in temperature. In your mind, but not your body, hurrying against the cold, only to repeat the procedure when going home. The only difference being attitude-I wanted to get home. Still do.

When living in Colorado, at 8300', our car would freeze to the road every night. Minus 30 degrees will do that. Sometimes 20 minutes of high idle wasn't enough, and you would still struggle to get down a hill, barely making it up the next one. Heaters only work when there is hot water, and you are reminded why they are called cooling systems. Why when is it below zero, the same cold blast of air isn't as welcome as on a 100 degree day.

We were part of the starting procedure, and it started with us. Push in the key, turn on the choke, after hitting the gas pedal twice, turn key and hope. Repeat key turning 3-4 times. Then sit and wait. The good old days. Now-get in turn key, and if it doesn't start immediately go to complain mode. Drive off after a few seconds, for the computer will compensate for rough running, cold, and even our own ignorance. Before we had to learn to drive, now people just point and steer-free to talk on a cell phone while they cut you off. Participation meaning it is all about me, I am in a hurry, usually because I am late, and everyone will know about it. Get out of my way-here I come!

Sadly people like this are this way in all of their life activities. They are the ones whose kids show up late to soccer. Who are late to school, and who climb over you while singing in church because they are late. Heaven help the one who points this out to them. But a consistency is present is all these cases-they are always late for practice, school, and church-because they can be. Stressed out, using every last second to have an excuse, then feeling no remorse when they are called on it. Late still means late. Stupid hurts. And the saga of "it's all about me" continues.

One night at a men's gathering, one of leaders got up to leave. He had to catch a plane to China. I asked, "shouldn't we pray for him?" The room got quiet, until another co-leader spoke up, "he's in a hurry. We prayed earlier." It got quieter when I reminded them that Jesus never hurried. And that He was never late! And He was always on time. Then it got really quiet.

I can also reflect on when I first got saved. My roommate and I would do a short devotion, then pray every morning. I had to be at work at 830am, about ten minutes from home. And even though I would leave at 825, or even 835, I was never late. Somehow God honored me, because I honored Him first. I learned not to rush, but to put Him first. Never once punching in after 830am! My first experience of obedience, honoring God, and putting Him first.

Where are you rushing off to today? In the world's eyes time is the only commodity that you cannot get back. But in God's eyes, time is timeless. He calls it eternity. So stop-there's that time thing again, and ask God to help you enjoy time more. Take the time when prompted by the Holy Spirit to stop and minister. Is it a surprise to God when the light turns red? Or the one in front of you goes so slow? Use your time wisely, guided by God, and watch as you control time-rather than time controlling you. David Bowie wrote "time can change me, but I can't change time." Another rock and roll truth. But get to know and trust the one who can.

Jesus Christ changes life. Walk with Him and you will never be late. You can have the extra cup of coffee-sorry latte you trendy types. For if He leads, you are just where He wants you to be. On a path He created, and in His time. Never late, never early-always on time. Even on warm mornings!

Get in, sit down, and listen! When it is all about Jesus rather than you, His voice comes through clearer. Even in a helmet! So relax. Take the time to ride with Jesus today. It's about time!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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summer of love, fall of man

It was my favorite receptionist's birthday yesterday. Lois, at Maranatha Chapel turned the same age as Bob Dylan. And as she showed me a signed poster of him, we got talking of music back then. Seems she grew up in San Francisco, and we talked of all the concerts and bands she saw at Fillmore West. Quicksilver, Country Joe and the Fish, Santana, and so many others, and we both remembered what a special time for music it was, the only difference she was there! But when I asked her about being up on the Haight, she said she was never a hippie. We all tend to group many different subcultures together, and just being young and loving the music then didn't make you a hippie. Haight Ashbury, an intersection of two streets, would come not only to define a neighborhood, but for a short summer in 1967, define a whole city, which it still does today. The Summer of Love it is referred to, and many look back at it fondly, but the truth is after this summer of drugs, sex, and rock and roll, it left a fall of man that still exists today.

Tune in, turn on, drop out. Drugs were used openly, sex was free, and no one thought of who would pay the bill afterwards. For after this season ended, in its wake it left an outbreak of VD, unwanted pregnancies, and a neighborhood trashed and disheveled. For all those who participated left the debris of their summer behind when they left, sadly some were human debris. A malady that today the free clinic started there still tries to recover from. We learned that when self is at the center, then the heart takes over, and the mind is governed by feeling. Not taking into consideration all the facts. We are then helpless to reason properly. Sadly, the fall of man was to be more than a season.

Sadly most of us only remember the great music, but like any circumstance where sin is the principal player, it leaves victims behind. But God, showed us then, that the creativeness in music then would translate into a new Jesus music, a season that still exists today. For one of the fruits born out of the Jesus movement was Jesus music. Where for years only hymns were available, God showed us true freedom in Him, not drugs or sex, and some of the greatest music ever came out of the next ten years. Love Song, 2nd Chapter of Acts, Parable, Chuck Girard, and others changed the face of music, and the hearts of men while worshipping God to a beat we all could relate to. Even reaching into the rock and roll Hall of Fame in the example of Richie Furay of Buffalo Springfield, who today is a Calvary Chapel pastor. You just gotta know that worship team rocks. Roger McGuinn of the Byrds, Carlos Santana, and others came to be Born Again, and worshipped our Lord, as did Bob Dylan. Which is why Lois had his poster. Truly what a long, strange trip it has been.

In the fall of 1976 I was a student at the University of New Mexico. A young Christian, when Parable came to play there at the SUB. A free concert, many came to listen, but when Jesus was shared between songs, the crowd thinned. But then grew as the music restarted. And over and over again repeated this, until many filled the room and heard the gospel. The same music that had defined a generation that led to destruction, when under the Holy Spirit changed lives eternally, only a loving God could do that. "I never knew that Christian music was like that!" was heard during lunch the next day, by many who for the first time heard the gospel of Jesus Christ.

And continues to do so today. In heaven we will be continuing worship. And there will be music. Why not participate in the opening act now. So many bands we never heard of will be leading us in worship there, join in now. We have so much to be thankful for, let's start the praise and worship now. Let our season of love begin, and never end. No fall of man, but the renewing of a whole new generation in Jesus. Now that's something to sing about.

Happy Birthday Lois, may you continue to sing the songs of Jesus in your heart into eternity. For He has given you the best birthday gift of all-a hope and a future in Him. Just like Bob Dylan sang, Forever Young. And forever is a long, long, long time!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

I was an urban legend

Life isn't fair sometimes. Make that most of the time. Take when the national speed limit was reduced to 55mph. To save gas we were told. But after the gas crisis, it stayed down, it was safer we were told. But truly it was a way for state and local authorities to line their coffers with our speeding violation money. And living in Jersey at the time, they were experts at it.

I lost my license in 1974, due to too many points. Speeding, and never got one on my motorcycle. Now before you say "what took him so long?" realize most of my speeds were less than 60mph in a 55mph zone. With cops hiding behind every tree, and even out in the open on I-78 west just where it meets I-287-a blue van that was permanently parked, that everyone knew about and still always had at least one car pulled over, I got ticketed for 56, 57, and 58 in 55 zones. I even got a ticket for 56mph coming back from my girlfriend's prom! Truly a sense of revenue enhancement, but strangely never caught when on my bike at much higher rates. Go figure.

One day Lance and I were going to pick up Merlin at the hospital she worked at. I had a BMW 1600, and we wanted to see if it would do 100mph. Which it did-on 287, just before we got off at her exit. Pulled over by a Dodge with the old 440 Magnum, it was a plain gray car with no markings. Doesn't seem fair does it? The guy who stepped out asked for license and registration and I thought my car would be towed right then and there. He even seemed unamused when he asked, "where you going so fast, the hospital?" And when I answered "yes," I figured I was done. But he didn't even break a smile, and wrote my info in a notebook, explaining he was out of tickets, and would bring it by my job that night.

At work that night I was still freaked out. And for a few nights after, as the man or the ticket never arrived. I even was scared that he would mail it, then my mother would know how fast I went, and add that to my list of punishments. No statute of limitations when it comes to mothers. Lance and I were still spooked, Merlin had said "I told you so," and now I was faced with losing my license, and having to pay a huge fine. And...the wrath of my parents. I was bummed. But something happened, or didn't happen. No ticket ever came. I was spared-my first taste of mercy. But, looking back, Lance and I thought we may have it figured out. When the car pulled up next to us, he held up a card saying "State Police Vehicle." And the driver was in overalls, like a mechanic. We had been stopped by a mechanic on a joy ride with a cop car! Probably not the first time he got his jollies, and probably explained why no ticket book, and no uniform. But just the fact he said he was a cop, and acted official was enough. We didn't know whether to laugh or cry, or seek this guy out, but figured revenge would only expose us, being the punch line of a joke and with a bruised ego was punishment enough for me. And somewhere out there in the New Jersey State Police garage the story is told over and over. I was part of an urban legend-and Lance was there to prove that it really happened. "I can just see that kid's look of horror when I stopped him. But I almost lost it when he really was going to a hospital..." And the legend lives on.

Urban legends, old wives' tales, or anecdotal events that may or may not have really happened. Some sounding so true that they are more believable than some real events. No age group, or no peer group is without them. Some based on fact, some based on here say. The seven sons of Skeva were like that. They were told of this man Jesus who had healed the sick, had the blind see, and the lame walk. How He even could rebuke demons and have them flee. So they approached a man known to have demons, and rebuked them. Only they didn't know that it took the power of the Holy Spirit to do that, and they turned on them. Beating them, and sending them away naked. With one question, "we know of Jesus, we have heard of Paul, who the heck are you?" They were smart enough to not stay and give an answer.

"Rejoice, the scriptures tell us, not that we have power over demons, but that your names are written in the book of life." And not written in a ticket book that day with Lance. I was shown mercy even though the butt of a joke, and even though my sin found me out. The Skeva brothers had no power, only words. Real power comes from Jesus, and His dad even tells us "not by might, not by power, but by my spirit, says the Lord of Hosts." And so once again I am reminded how it is better to trust God, and walk in the spirit than live under the law. I can guarantee that somehow today you will break one.

Grace, God calls it. Sometimes dressed as mercy when we are in sin. Either way, I rather walk in it than ride in a police car. Ask the Skevas, words mean something. And names mean something, too. Absolute mercy. Proving that angels can fly 100mph, even when in sin.

And also ask for ID when stopped. Many false teachers out there. For identification, ask to see their hands, only Jesus' will have the marks left from the nails. Accept no substitute. If only the Skevas had been so smart, but then we wouldn't have chapter 19 of Acts! Truly all things work together for those who love the Lord-and are called for His purpose!

love with compassion,

Mike

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