the street corner Samaritan

It is Easter Break in 1971, and Eddie Lynch and I decide to go into New York City for the day. After taking the train from Fanwood to the Port Authority, we make our way up to Madison Square Garden. It is warm, sunny, and almost lunch time, so we are looking for a place to eat lunch. When suddenly while standing on a corner waiting for the light to turn green, a black man steps out from behind a news stand, breaks a bottle against a light post, and hits me in the face with it! I block the next two punches, cutting my arm, and we chase him down into the subway, as he just gets into a subway car, running past a cop as the doors close. He gets away, as the cop turns to me and says "you're bleeding pretty bad, you better get help!" Then does nothing as we tell him of the attack. He yells down to another of NYPD's finest, who grabs a different black guy, who has no idea of what is going on, and then is released when we again tell how the man got on a train. And got away!

We are walking up the steps to the street, and blood is really pouring out of my face now. I mean pouring out, and running down my face in streams. I was hit in the left cheek, and would later have two cuts of over an inch long sewn up, along with a hole in my nose repaired. But as we stood on the street corner, me bleeding profusely, it took 45 minutes for me to go three blocks by ambulance, once one showed up. Never saw one cop, and of the hundreds of people on the corner-thousands must have passed by, it was lunch time, one woman finally grabbed a bunch of tissues from a box and handed them to me. While the others gawked, then looked away, not even offering simple assistance for the bleeding. Then off to the French Polytechnic Clinic, where a woman doctor sewed me up. And you wonder why I hate Hew York?

So when Danny taught this last weekend on the good Samaritan, I could associate with the guy who was beaten. And how many passed by not even offering assistance. I was like a wreck on the freeway that morning, just an interruption, causing people to stop, look, and then complain about me holding up their schedule. Like it was fault. Sorry! I still bear the scars from that day, it is the ones that don't show that I remember the most. The other ones are there anytime I am in front of a mirror.

I used to say that no one cares, and I was wrong. We all care, it is only about ourselves and no one else we care about. How many times do we complain when we are stuck in a traffic jam because of an accident, cursing the poor victim, and never showing them compassion? It is all about us, a fact that a few summers back while riding in Oregon with Frank we were reminded of. An asphalt truck had overturned, closing the freeway, and causing us to double back, and take some back roads. God showed us a beautiful view of the Columbia River Gorge, with a bi-plane flying in it, at our level on the the cliff. We talked all day about it, until God showed me how He gave this to us, despite our cursing of the tar truck. And we are nice people! We stop for others! What does that tell us about our hearts? And about God's mercy and grace? Why didn't we stop and pray for that trucker?

Too often we react as we did, and need to react as the good Samarian did. He gave the only thing that we can never get repaid-his time. And even extended it, in love, to cover further expenses. How ironic we see the love of Christ extended to an innkeeper, when the night our Lord was born there was no room at the inn. Only a barn for our Lord to be born in. Love doesn't take into account past wrongs, it just loves. Just like Jesus told the lawyer-love God with all your heart, and your neighbor as yourself. We don't know how many Jesus was addressing in the crowd that day, but perhaps hundreds were listening. Church folk, who may have come to hear Him, or were just there for whoever spoke. But then I wonder, in Matthew 25, how many may have been there that day, who were there the day Jesus told this parable. Could they be the same ones that Jesus explained to who their neighbor was, who then told them He never knew them, because they failed to love the least of them? How would you have reacted? How do you react? But God, "he made me late. I had my new suit on. He was homeless. I hate hospitals." And the worst, "it's their problem, they probably deserved it." Who really is he least of them in God's eyes?

Jesus said "whoever does these things to the least of them, does them for Me!" Do we pray for the accident victim tying up traffic? His day is certainly worse than ours. Do we offer to sit with a homeless man, rather than have him evicted from a burger joint? Will we submit to being treated like we are in jail, so we can visit those inside? Can you give me a drink? Can you stop by the hospital? Can you even hand me some tissues when I'm bleeding? Can you stand before Christ and say you really love Him, when you hate those made in His image?

Through one man sin entered the world. And through one man, we are offered an escape route from it. Jesus, The only way to God. I was fortunate that day, I only have scars. And I hate New York. Earlier that day another man had been hit, the same way, at the same corner. Only he had nerves in his face damaged. I can smile today, despite circumstances. I wonder if he can? Use the precious commodity of time to minister to others. Money is nice, but is a poor substitute for a hug. You will always get another paycheck, but you cannot replace time. Jesus knows that, that is why eternity is so precious to us. It will more than pay for the times wasted on earth. And will reward us for using our time wisely for Him.

Do you say you care? Now is the time to show it. Be patient. It leads to salvation. Pray for those who are slow, or broken down. You could be there yourself. We reap what we sew. Sew love, and you shall reap love. Lord, please bless the woman who helped me that day. I am thankful for her. Help us to remember, Jesus took the time to die for us, can we take the time and live for Him?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

feeding the addiction we call motorcycles

Look closely at the attached pictures. You may be surprised. Yes, that is Skip Heitzig and Dennis Agajanian, on Skip's chopper. He also has a CB750 cafe racer. And Dennis has a Harley, but rides his GS BMW more because it is more fun. I got this from both of them talking one on one. Seems we have a common addiction-motorcycles. And of course Jesus. There have always been two opposite schools of thought in motorcycle design. One is add more chrome, the other is take everything off that isn't needed. Simple enough philosophies, just leave it to man to screw it up. I can see points in both schools of design, it is when taken to an extreme that I lose interest. Form before function, remember the motorcycle NHTSA build under Jimmy Carter, that only went backwards?

Harley for years, and all those others who want to be a Harley, but don't want to be a Harley, have chromed anything it can. I have seen anything from lights, to brakes, to wheels, to seats-yes seats, covered in chrome. Leaving something with such a huge investment that they are afraid to ride it-and it always needs polishing. I have also seen guys with the "if it don't need it, remove it" mentality. And end up with ugly parts exposed, seats with no padding-smoothes out the lines, and only a tach, looks cooler. And then it can't be ridden very far, because the pain system God installed in man at the factory won't hold up. And in both cases, man has become slave to the machine.

When I started riding most choppers were Triumphs. Lean looking, I can remember springer front ends, hard tail frames, and loud pipes. But then the cafe racer look began to take over. Low bars, rear set pegs, and an engine built for speed, with a chassis built for handling. I never went for the chopper, but went full on with the cafe racer look. I don't think I owned a bike for over 20 years without low bars on it, and the speeds I rode made it comfortable. And when Suzuki came out with the GSXR, and the others followed, it went from cafe to race track styling. Harley re-marketed itself, and the chopper boom began. Which is now on life support, how many paid way too much for a designer bike, and now are left with a designer statement? Which no one wants, and can't be ridden much. At least many were built off of a custom frame, not aborting a new bike's just for the looks.

But cafe racers are the latest designer bike. And so many older Jap bikes from the 80's are being sacrificed for the latest trend. Too many by those who just want to be stylish, when just about any bike sold today will handle much better than anything in the 80's. Nerdy bikes that no one would ride if they were cool, are now being heralded as the new cafe bike of choice. But you have to look cool, while scraping pegs, just like choppers did while scraping floor boards. I just feel bad all these older bikes are being chopped up-forgive the pun, not intended, and we are losing many clean, old original bikes to vanity. Hopefully it makes my all original GS1000E worth more. It is for sale, but not to anyone who will cafe it! You must draw a line somewhere, and anything that has been around this long, in this condition, should get some respect. This goes for the riders too!

I have never been trendy, and when I see a new trend coming, I look ahead to the crew who will have the responsibility of cleaning up the mess they made. I listen as I visit with other believers, who get off on vanity tangents, following what is fashionable, rather than Godly, and then have to be brought back in line by those who didn't stray. But I am glad for those who stay the course with Jesus. No surprises when it comes to God. He is consistent. NO variation on the gospel, or His word. But yet when someone gets a "new" revelation," it seems a group is always ready to drop what they have, and follow it blindly. If only they had followed Jesus that way. When I hear about those that name it and claim it, I am glad I serve a God, rather than Him serving me. Because in my service to Him, I get to see all He has for me. Which is always for my good, and always a blessing. And whose style is just not for a season. Can you say that about your walk with Christ? Are you always looking for something new, when you already have everything in Jesus? Are you bored with God, never wishing to admit it is because of disobedience? How many new bikes have you ever bought, wishing you had kept the old one?

Stick with Jesus. Sounds simple, and it is simple. Stay in the word. It became flesh, then died for you. Think of it as a person, and let it talk to you. It is the same yesterday, today, and forever. How many bikes have come and gone from your life based on style? And when the style changed, you were left with something no one wants. Stick with Jesus. Don't be trendy. Don't chop, channel, or cafe your life based on what is stylish. Stick with what works, and Jesus works for you. and everybody! Years ago my friend Bill chopped his CB750, then put a Dunstall kit on it. Both were cool for the time, but both were unridable for long distances. Which we rode. And when it came time to sell, he had to put it all back to stock. Just to sell it. No one wants your dreams, they have their own.

The gospel is simple, so guys like me can get it. Jesus can give you more creativity than you can ever imagine, wrap it in blessings, and watch as you get closer to God-and as others come to Christ because of your testimony. If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, behold Jesus. He is beautiful, wonderful, and loves you. And I heard He has just the right ride for you. Just remember, the best view of any motorcycle is the one you see over the handlebars. Let your ride take you somewhere, and take that ride with Jesus. So when you are twisting wrenches, I'll be twisting the throttle. So many roads, so little time. Shouldn't you really be riding more? Isn't that why you rode in the first place? It works with Jesus too. Stick with your first love, and you'll never waste time when you could and should be riding.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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icons of cool

My friend Lance sold me my first new Triumph some 16 years ago. So we go back a ways with Triumph, and were commenting on how well the brand is doing. But then we started to talk about a "new" generation of riders who had never heard of them. "Does Honda make them? Are they new? Where's England? And are they like a Harley?" And the answers are- NO, NO, northwest of Europe, and yes, and no. And he told me of one particular young guy who had just left his store. About 20, he was very interested in motorcycles, and never heard of Triumph. "What are they all about?" he wanted to know.

So Lance explained how they are celebrating their 110th birthday this year. Not impressed. So Lance asked if he heard of Marlon Brando. Who? How about Lee Marvin? He had heard of Clint Eastwood. James Dean? Please say yes. Do you know about Steve McQueen? More blank looks. When Lance explained all these guys rode Triumphs, because they were cool, he wasn't impressed. Leaving the store maybe looking for a safer ride, one not so famous. Definitely not so cool. Now I know what the problem with this generation is-they have no cool. In fact, they are so uncool they don't even know what cool is.

Brando was cool. He was the Wild One. So cool he rode his own Triumph Thunderbird in the movie. When asked what are you rebelling against, he answered, "whatta ya got?" Maybe he wasn't acting, just being himself. Lee Marvin, another man's man used to race his Triumph on weekends, after riding it out to the desert. One of the best chase scenes ever was in Coogan's Bluff, where Clint chases the bad guy, both riding Triumphs, through Central Park. No one ever said Clint wasn't cool. James Dean became more famous for cool after his death, but while alive rode all he could. There again, on a Triumph. Like the song says, "he was too fast to live, too young to die..." But the King of Cool is still Steve McQueen. Racing on weekends under the alias of Harvey Mushman, his public wasn't sure if he was an actor that raced, or a racer that acted. Steve would rather be known as a racer, better class of people. No one was cooler than Steve, from the Elsinore Grand Prix to the 1964 ISDT, he was happiest when riding. The perfect combination of cool-Steve and Triumphs. But he was so cool, that when asked did he do the driving in Bullitt, he answered "no, Bud Ekins did it." Bud was Steve's hero, the man who taught Steve to ride. And while we all wanted to be cool like Steve, Steve wanted to be cool like Bud. Racer, stuntman, owner of the largest Triumph dealership in the USA in Hollywood, and cool. Way cool. Quick, where are all the cool guys today? What has the latest generation have to offer? Who is so cool that both men and women want to hang with them?

I wonder...if this kid ever heard of Jesus Christ? Talking of cool, no one was ever cooler. Like Brando, He was a rebel. He was against religion, and what it did to men's relationship with God, so He died so we could know God. Like Marvin, He was tough on the outside, but tender on the inside. He could heal a blind man, or go without food for 40 days. He was love. Like Clint, He has some famous quotes. "Go ahead, make my day." For today is the day of salvation. He said it over 2000 years ago, when He showed His love for us while dying on a cross, an innocent man. Like Dean He was a true rebel with a cause. Recorded in John3:16. "For God so loved the world, He gave His only son, that whoever believed on Him has eternal life." And like Steve, He was the King of Cool. Also King of Kings, Lord of Lords, and Almighty God. Terms not equated with anyone else in history. He was God, and He was with God. Something only God could do. Now that's cool.

And He is still alive today, offering eternal life to those that seek Him. He still heals the sick, meets all your needs, and wants to get to know you. So you can know Him. He is so cool that He even calls you His friend! And in everything He does He gives glory to God. The coolest man who ever lived, still lives today. How cool is that?

You see this generation needs someone cool to lead it. Jesus Christ is the answer. The only one cool enough, and loving enough. He is God! And calls out to us, He knows our name! Will you become His friend today? How cool to be in heaven, and have Him introduce you as His friend. And He is willing to do it right now, while we live here on earth.

No one was, is, or will ever be cooler than Jesus Christ. You might call Him a Triumph in His own right. And you would be right. Maybe you are what you ride. Too bad I wasn't there, I would have told this young man all about Jesus, the coolest. But there are many who don't know or have rejected Him. That is not cool. There are many brands of motorcycles to ride, let a Triumph in Jesus be the next ride you take, the best decision you will ever make. Riding with Jesus, who calls you friend-now that's cool!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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doctor's practice, Jesus heals

 Remember the old Donna Reed Show? She played the perfect mother, and wife of Dr. Alex Stone, MD. And with his office in his home, he truly made house calls, as except for occasional trips to the hospital to visit patients, he did all his business at home. And that is how I remember doctors when I was young. Dr. Santoro was the family doctor, friend, and confidant. His house had been designed to have a doctor's office included in it, and that was how and where you went to the doctor. With the waiting room being the largest room, and his nurse, aka his wife, occupying a small desk, while wearing her clean, white uniform. Same with Dr. Grill our dentist. Rates were reasonable, they were referred to as Dr. and Mrs. and you felt like you were getting personal attention, and you were. But they were more than Dr. and Mrs. and there was a common bond between you. A system that worked-doctors practiced, their wives were the nurses, and you were the patient. We each played our parts.

But today it is all medical groups, in medical buildings, with a full staff, where wives are not nurses, you have insurance billing specialists, and you go to another office for x-rays and tests. All covered by your insurance carrier, if you are insured, after paying your co-pay. A word I never heard until I was in my twenties. As a college student at UNM, the first time I had to go to the student infirmary I was in shock. My parents had always paid, and when I left, they wanted money-now! I had none, and had to make payments, a great imposition to the previous generation. And from there on looked at the medical field in a much different light. I never thought about the business of medicine, and as I was to learn, many doctors didn't either. Adding to their stress, and endangering their practice and home lives.

It had been a bad night. First I fought with my girlfriend, then we broke up. Then as I was going to a friend's house to be consoled, I got hit in the rear by a 1972 LTD-all 4000 pounds of it. Twice the weight of my MG Midget. I had been hit so hard the car was pushed almost 100', and my body was in pain. In this pre-cell phone era, the cop let me call Gerald, my Christian friend and chiropractor. Who immediately met me at his office, on this late Saturday night. My other call was to Michael Baldonado, who was to be a life saver for me the next few weeks. By the time I got to Gerald's office, my friends were arriving. Praying, there was over 20 of them! And Gerald did some cursory checks, and got me going. A night where my emotions had fallen to a new low, the love of my friends was boosting me up. And would continue to support me, as Gerald and his chiropractic gift would aid in the healing. But it was a night of family, my Christian family, that stopped what they were doing, and helped me out. Love was the panacea that night, just the right prescription, and the right prescription for all situations.

Looking back, if I had looked at the situation, it was pretty bad. My body was as damaged as my emotions. But instead I chose to look to the cross of Jesus Christ. He bore my wounds, and guided me through the next months as I recovered. Other true friends like Garcia took me in, after I stayed at Michael's for a few weeks. And we used the time to praise God, to seek Him, and I grew in the Lord. God had taken a bad situation, and turned it into a joyous one. Doctors can only do so much, it takes the ultimate healer, Jesus, to make the changes. And like always, He sends those who are willing, as opposed to those who are skilled. And like the doctor's offices of old, we are taken into homes where we are healed. Where the healing process can be fully seen in a physical, emotional, and a spiritual presence. Where Jesus is allowed to be the ultimate healer, and those involved are blessed. Sadly those who are unsaved miss this opportunity, and suffer needlessly. We have joy, for joy is not the absence of suffering, but the presence of God! The fruit of the spirit.

Today or even right now you may be in a situation that needs help. Apply the proper first aid-prayer. Seek Jesus first, then obey. Lean on Him, and watch as a bad situation turns into a blessing. He will send the right people. Watch as bodies, souls, and spirits are healed. Watch as the family unites in His spirit, and as we are reminded that wherever two or three are gathered in His name, He is among you. Alone-call out to the Holy Spirit-there is your two! See you are never alone or without Jesus.

Medicine has come a long way. But it still pales compared to God. And with insurance companies telling doctors how to practice, and families falling apart daily, why not turn to the one who is always there. Who always knows what to do, and has the ability to do it? Have the same faith in Jesus as you do in an aspirin. I don't know how it finds my headache, or my back ache, or knows the difference, but it does. So I rely on them. A miracle drug if given to someone who has never taken one. Imagine the results if we trusted/relied on God the same way we pop pills?

Doctor's practice, Jesus makes perfect. And He still makes house calls. Now that's a miracle we all need!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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motorcycle dated

People have different ways of keeping track of time and dates. Some may have a special event that occurred in their life, and recall things before or after it. Some have lived various places, and associate it with where they lived, hoping the dates and addresses coincide. Some keep diaries, and then remember more exact details, at least as their emotions remembered them at the time. But for years, we have used our own system of remembering, times, dates, events, and things missed along the way. We shall call it motorcycle dating, and although it may not always be accurate, it recalls things based on which motorcycle(s) we owned, where we rode them, and who we did it with. A memory album, which can be more complete than any photo album, as it reveals the heart through the ride, and the ride of the heart. If you ride you know what I mean, if not, you may have precious memories awaiting you. I wouldn't want to miss any blessings along the way.

It was September of 1986, and with my new FJ1100 all of a week old, I set out from Farmington to Bangor-New Mexico to Pennsylvania. I was going to surprise my Grandpa with a few day visit-I had eight days to do the total trip, and warned my Grandma I was coming. As I rode down Broadway, he happened to be sitting on his front steps. As I rode by, he jumped up, knowing it was me, and ran to where I parked. "Michael!" was all he could say through tears of joy, and the three of us had a great two days together. We went to dinner, dressed as they called it, at the Colonial, and had a huge meal. He gave me a new shirt to wear, as my t-shirts were not dressy enough. But the three of us also had a secret we always kept. This trip was for them, and although I came within 60 miles of my parents, they never knew it. They would not have understood, so we kept it to ourselves. It was a time for a grandson with his grandparents. I remember the meal, and the shirt, but not what I had to eat. I remember the FJ, but most of all I remember my Grandpa jumping up when he saw me-all 81 years of him. And his tears of joy, maybe the greatest gift anyone had ever given him.

Christopher was nine years old when we rode to Canada, again on the FJ. For 13 days, and 3900 miles, we had a special time. Riding ferries, seeing the Northwest, from Victoria to Mt. St. Helens, we had a great time. A lot for a nine year old to take in. And I never really knew how much, until we were back home. He was playing with a friend, and their Transformers. His friend was a one upper, always one step bigger than the story last told, and had been bragging how his dad had taken him fishing for the weekend. Christopher just answered, "I rode to Canada on his motorcycle for two weeks with my dad." Game, match, set. No brag, just fact. In one sentence he described better what it meant to him than all the pictures I took. Again, a precious moment between a father and son, based on a motorcycle.

Theresa and I had stayed out way too late on a Saturday night in Colorado. In the days of no gas on Sunday, and no motels, we found ourselves at the Jackson Hotel. Which was celebrating its 100th anniversary that night. But the rooms weren't finished, so when the bartender/cook/innkeeper saw we were desperate, he let us stay in the unfinished rooms, with the bathroom down the hall, if we would set up the beds. Sure thing, and then topped it off by having the best pan fried steak I ever ate. An intimate evening, with a meal for two, in the middle of nowhere. The right place, the right time, with he right people we had never met, and would never meet again. And thanks to the tank on my R100S, we had enough gas to get back to Durango the next day. From a town with no name, at a hotel that wasn't open, with my best friend. Something we would never have done in a car, it seemed so normal then, and so normal now. Sometimes the best trips are not the ones we find on a map, or planned.

I had met Jesse when I took my cross country trip in my van in 1975. At at rest stop on I-25 north of Denver, we met and got high. Then went on our ways. I didn't know it then, but within two weeks I would meet Jesus, get saved, and my life would change forever. The next summer, I had moved to Albuquerque,, and was selling motorcycles at Motorsport-when in comes Jesse. He was teaching at the Taos Pueblo. And immediately we hugged, and he wanted to get high. I agreed to go to lunch with him, and for the next hour shared how Jesus Christ had changed my life. No more drugs, and a joy unspeakable. He listened, and I don't know if he ever came to the Lord. But from a chance meeting at a rest stop between a man from New Jersey, and a teacher from Taos, to selling motorcycles in Albuquerque, God had brought us back together. He was perhaps the first person to see how much I had changed after being saved. Even neater, he owned a 1972 BMW R60/5, blue, like my old one.

God has given me three passions in life. First my passion for Jesus Christ, which is the most important in my life. Second, my best friend, riding partner, and wife, Theresa. And third, the love of riding motorcycles. And in His own way has woven a life for me using them all. Some would call it luck, I call it a blessing from a loving God. And like the old gospel song says, "...and the half has never yet been told." For I hope to have many more miles, rides, and memories before heaven. There are so many roads, so little time, and so great a harvest of souls. Make sure that no matter how your memory system operates, it includes Jesus. He is yesterday's memories, today's memories, and a bright outlook on memories to come. Precious times, on bikes long ago traded on new ones, but somehow the memories just get sweeter. As only Jesus can make them.

Let the ride of your life become your own reality series. With no fear of being cancelled when trends or audiences change. Share your own memories with someone today, and encourage them to get out and live. Sometimes you never know how far you have come until you look back. I rather look ahead to how far I have yet to go. Enough talk-let's ride!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot

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I still wave at trains, part 2

I always look forward to the first weekend in May because it is time for the ATHS Truck Show. But this weekend I really needed the break. Andrew had been to the ER three times, I had a torn muscle in my back, we were exhausted, and my father died on Saturday. Then I got a phone call Saturday afternoon, telling me the service was on Tuesday, in Jersey, leaving me no time to get back. Excluding me from any involvement. This after earlier in the week being told by my mother she wanted NO service, and would wait to intur his ashes until we came back this summer. But I could send flowers. And then my mother accosted me on the phone Sunday, cursing me and God, and telling me she was cutting me out of the will-because I was hurt because I was told not to come visit him during his illness. Also keeping my sons from seeing their grandfather. And being skillfully not invited to his service. I have the e-mail. So I needed the truck show! Which is again being held at the Perris Railway Museum, which has real trains, in a county like setting. And this year, Kelly and Theresa would be bringing the kids along, and Landon was bringing his Thomas the Train toy to say hi to the train.

As we rode into Temecula, the traffic suddenly halted ahead, and we saw 40 motorcycles on the side of the road. A semi was doing a sweep blocking off traffic, and then blocked two lanes, protecting the bikers. We stopped to assist, and saw a Soldiers for Jesus patch holder praying with the downed biker, he was OK, his bike was unridable. After the events of the past day, it was refreshing to see total strangers bound together in a common cause, not caring about specifics, just dealing with the problem. Legacy Vets, Viet Nam Vets, and others-more concerned about the safety of one of their own than any politics.

But God knew my heart, and what I needed that day, and had a big surprise for me. When we arrived the train was just pulling out, and Landon got to see it close up. As we walked the truck show, BIG trucks and some cool restored and unrestored trucks, it got time for the kids to ride the train. As Theresa and Kelly sat in the passenger car with the kids, not knowing what was about to go on, we took pictures, then sat to watch. When suddenly the engineer called from the cabin, "Hey do want to ride the train? Come on up into the cab!" If he asked twice, I don't remember, as I was up the ladder and in the cab so fast. Theresa too. And as it pulled out, I was waving at the people-from the train! A smile so big it brought tears. A gift from my heavenly Father, knowing just what I needed, and when. Reminding me how much He cared. My thanks to Ken Schwartz, engineer and superintendent for his great offer. He will never know how much it meant to us. But he wasn't done-or was I. He had me sit in his seat, and I drove the train for about 1 1/2 miles on this short line! And then brought it to a stop. And then when we told them about the kids, he had them come up and sit in his seat, and blow the whistle! Mike had driven the train on their first train ride! An afternoon I will never forget.

For God so loved the world, He gave His only son-Jesus. And gives us life abundantly. Out of the ashes we rise...there is no one like Him! Or His love! Jesus saves-not by words, or by deeds, but by a change of heart-faith He calls it. He also calms and loves the hurting, which I was. Trust Him today. Is it OK to say that that afternoon His train filled my temple?

Over the past week I have ridden anything from a 165hp Ducati, to a Street Triple to a Tiger Explorer. And driven a train. 110 hp to thousands of horsepower. Can you say that? I can! And I even kept it on the track, at speeds up to 14mph! The train, not the bikes. Thanks Lord, for your special care. Not a bad week.

Oh, and please pray for my sister. Reread her words of the note she sent out on my mailing list-you guys. And see I never called her horrible. Reread mine. A prayer request. All lies are based on truth, God knows. Write to my Mother too. She needs love. But pray first. And pray for us too. That the work that God has called us to goes on. As for the quote she stated my father said, "paper will stand still for anything," the only Google items I could find it quoted on was relating to a modern Christianity teaching, that Jesus wasn't God, didn't know who He was, and never was resurrected. Not my kind of Christianity, or truth. Not THE truth. Another lie. Be careful who you quote. God's word will last forever.

No Jesus, no peace. Know Jesus, know peace. The truth has set me free-I hope it did my dad. I hope someday it does my mother and sister. No airing of family problems, just praying like God instructs us to do-for the lost and dying. Who loved his dad very much, and never got to visit or say goodbye.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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let your right hand decide

From the teaching an old dog new tricks file comes this personal note. Yesterday, for the first time anywhere, on any road, I used the cruise control on a motorcycle. Now before you think I really lost it, it wasn't on a Gold Wing, or an Ultra Glide. The next two weeks I'm riding a 2012 Triumph Explorer, their answer to the big BMW GS series. Incredible motor-this sucker is quick, and has many electronic enhancements that I normally wouldn't care for. In fact it has so many new items and buttons, I took home the owners manual and read it-just so I could figure out how to get the odometer mileage to show up on the speedometer. Which now is called an info center. An i-pod on two wheels, thankfully no texting feature. I can tell how fast, how far, how much fuel used, and how many miles I have left before I have to push, and knowing the ambient temperature while all this is going on. Two trip meters-that part I like, and can use on trips. But it also has three settings of traction control, ABS which can be turned off in the dirt-I'll keep that one on-great brakes, and cruise control. On a shaft driven bike controlled by a drive by wire throttle. And, get this-it comes standard with a center stand! Finally, something I can use!

But back to the cruise control. Which is hard to use on freeways around here, just too much traffic. But yesterday afternoon riding to Murrieta the traffic was light, and after taking my eyes off the road for seconds at a time, I set the cruise for 84-it only works 30-100mph in case you care. And it worked, once I learned to follow directions. Even on hills, it kept the speed within 2mph of where I set it. It started to grow on me, but my decision was I don't like it. And didn't use it coming home. My right hand felt abandoned, I didn't fell like I had control, and I kept wanting to twist something. The bike didn't miss a beat, but suddenly I wasn't riding, but just along for the ride. Compared to my Street Triple I rode up, which has everything you need, and nothing you don't, this bike was on electric assist overload. And so was I!

Now I'm not saying I'm simple, but I like simple things. And my approach to all these gadgets as they are referred to in the owners manual is, why don't we spend more time creating a better rider? Skill and how to ride in certain situations can help prevent an accident, rather than having a computer do it for you. Plus you have control. You can make the choices, because you are participating. I spent more time looking out for traffic so I could turn off the cruise, and didn't feel safe-I had lost my control! Did I ever really have it? So give me simple, like the Street Triple. And give me simple in my God. A simple gospel that I can understand, that I can understand enough to share with others comfortably. So God gave us one, His Son Jesus. Simply put, we sinned, and are separated from God. We need a way back, and Jesus is the way. Confess your sin, believe with your heart and you are saved. No baptisms to salvation, no classes, no membership, no special underwear, no passing out newspapers, and no Jesus and anything. Just Jesus.

And here is the kicker. The last thing mentioned in the list of the fruit of the spirit is get this, self control. You are not forced to follow Him, but if you don't are in complete rebellion. It is your choice to obey, to live a Godly life, and to follow Him. No rules, just love. It takes you and Him-together. You can't put your relationship with Him on cruise-it takes participation, God is already committed-are you?

And self control works with meekness-which is power under control. Meekness is being in a position to do the wrong thing, but choosing the right thing, despite bad advice. It is your choice. It is living with your handle on the throttle, and knowing how to control it, which is directly connected to God. So the question is, how much of God do you want? Little blessings-use a little throttle. Big blessings-open up your throttle, your heart to Jesus, and trust Him in all things. And marvel as you pass those on cruise, who think they have it made. You're riding, they are just along for the ride. It takes a relationship between you and God, hand on the throttle, to participate. It takes knowing when to open it full, or when to back off. It takes trusting God to know how far and when to open it up. It takes Jesus so you have the access to God. It takes self control, based on trust, based on knowing God.

God wants you to think for yourself. He doesn't demand His own way, but wants you to change yours to be like Him. Blessed He calls it. From a God who has everything you need, and protects you from the things you don't. A simple ride, based on a simple gospel, based on a simple relationship between you and Jesus. So I choose simple-more fun, and more God in my life. Some choose to cruise through life, I choose to tour. Let's compare trip memories some day-I would love to show you all the places Jesus has taken me. And your cruise? Hmmm... But it still takes your hand on the throttle, and a trust in your heart. Faith leading to obedience. I like that. Jesus Christ-everything you need. Nothing you don't. And he's your choice.

How fast and how far you go is up to you. Find out in Jesus. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. Don't let anyone else choose your ride for you. And your choice is?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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