do you remember no shoes on the gym floor?

Because the future seems so bleak anymore, we tend to look back to the "good old days." And although I have heard the term used by many people, it seems to mean another time or something different to each of us. To those starting a career, it is the college days, to those starting a family being single, and to those nearing retirement it means when they were just starting out, before life and reality had shattered all their hopes and dreams. But to me it means something different, which may be the embodiment of it all-looking back to a time when things were simpler, before life had interfered with our plans. Before we knew it all, but thought we did. And now feel threatened by those who think they do now. And the cycle goes on...and on... and on...

To me much of it is reflected in old cars and motorcycles. It is hard for me to watch as some young guy gets excited about a car from the seventies-I was there, couldn't afford them then either. And they were not the cars I lusted for in the sixties. Or watching as TV shows try to tell me what the styles were then-I was there. To me, the perfect outfit for girls is still a skirt, sweater, knee socks, and saddle shoes. Notice I said girls not women, not important why this outfit-those were the good old days. When you kept your cootie shots handy, just in case you were caught talking to one. Did girls ever have shots against boys? It was a general understanding you only got cooties from girls. Still not sure what a cootie is. But going to Hanford back in May to a vintage bike show reminded me the good old days were not that far away, and as I looked at vintage motorcycles from the seventies, I was on one myself, I didn't feel old, nor did the memories. But all the guys my age seemed to age-I wonder how I looked to them? How many of us were there searching for the good old days, or were still caught in their time warp? Time and technology have moved on-with old memories filling the gap left by the refusal to participate in progress.

I'll never know, it is one of those esoteric thoughts for a rainy night, when listening to the thunder takes you back to being a kid, enjoying the show of noise and light, but secretly scared it might strike too close to home. But reliving old memories, meeting old guys, and making new friends and memories keeps me going. So many conversations start with "remember when..." and although your audience appears to be listening, he is remembering when in his own memory. Mention the first Z-1, and five guys will give you five memories. And that is how it should be-personal. With each story the ride getting faster, the road narrower, and the thrills scarier. With the ones ending with "I'll never do that again," leaving you wishing for just one more chance at youth now that you can handle the fear. It has been said youth is wasted on the young, which has to be better than old age wasted on the old. Now as I approach older-but not grown up, I look back differently. Same memories, but from an older and not necessarily wiser perspective. Safe in a place where reality comes in second to bench racing. We were all older, faster, wiser, and more fearless back then. Where truth is mixed with perception, truth coming in second. A distant second for some.

During my recent open heart surgery we heard from many people. some I haven't seen in 40 years, but can remember the same good times. And when I meet fellow Christians from 35 years ago, we share testimonies of God working in our lives. But too few only have the good old days, as life interfered and God was put on hold. There were careers, families, and life in general. And neglecting the very one who had given them life seemed to be the first thing to go. It hurts, me and them, as they missed out on life with God, and it can be lonely since they are so out of fellowship. Even worse when it is a friend you looked up to, and has back slidden. It all comes down to a choice to follow Jesus or your own ambitions-how thankful I am I have stuck with Jesus. Celebrating my 38th summer with Him, every day is the good old days. And not because only of looking back on great memories-not necessarily good ones, but how He took us through, and giving us a hope and a future because of Him. Which is sorely missing from those who chose to go their own way. But it's not too late.

You see Jesus never left us, we left Him. He is still right there, the key word is repent. Turn from the world, and return to God. For some the turn is a U-turn, for others just getting both feet on the path. But God knows, and provides the way. Jesus. Just call out to Him, tell Him you want the good old days to be today. Then trust and obey. Watch as your career gets jump started, your family comes to life, and the blessings flow. Where instead of "good Lord it's morning," it's "good morning Lord!" And watch as the memories grow, and each day gives you hope for tomorrow. When you meet an old friend you don't have to travel back years to share God, but it is fresh and new. Each day having new memories awaiting you-don't miss them!

The good old days are here now. Don't let them pass you by. Your new bike may be faster, but never as fast as your first 900. Or 650, or 750. The brands don't matter, or even the size. My 350 was fast enough, until.... And even though skirts and sweaters are out, your wife still looks good as ever, your love has never gone out of style. Remind her-don't go back to high school to remember how good she looked. Enjoy now. And Jesus-the same as always. Loving, kind, and patient. Waiting for you-make Him Lord again today. If you have waited at all, that's way too long. These are the good old days.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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I miss America-the trains

I still love trains, in fact during rest time during rehab I read a great magazine about the classic trains from the 30-50's, which all finally went away in the 60's. Lots of vintage photos, stirring the memory. Great engines, lots of American made freight being moved, and millions of commuters, and travelers enjoying the dining car with the crisp white table cloths. A time when rail travel ruled, planes were still to expensive, and you still need a way to and from the airport. A day when REA-Railway Express Agency ruled in these pre-UPS/FEDEX competition days. Engineers, conductors, and station masters. Stuff we watched as kids, and then played with at home with our Lionels, before HO took over. Great days that sadly are gone.

When coming home on I-40, the interstate version of Route 66, you follow lots of train tracks. Leaving Kingman, a hub, the trains dot the landscape for hundreds of miles. But there is something different about them. One I can't remember any passenger trains, and there are no more cabooses on the freight trains. But even stranger-no box cars, and very few tank cars. Coal cars back east, but no box cars there either. They are all piggyback with shipping containers. And after watching for awhile, it dawned on me, these are not American made goods. They are all imported, mostly from China. Perhaps the last vestige of transportation has been abducted by the Chinese. On the way to Wal-Mart, a leisure activity of the Chinese government. Remember when they too used to brag about all American made products?

Which tells us more about the US of A and ourselves than we care to admit. We have become discount price driven, as opposed to quality driven. Price rules. We no longer lead, we are a colony of foreign made goods. Which explains all the empty factories, and all the unemployed and displaced workers. Leaving lesser goods at a discounted price for those who can still afford to shop at Wal-Mart, and others like them. And a steady and permanent erosion of America-and its values. A lowering of standards, then a plethora of rules, and finally trying to legislate morality-even invading our homes as courts now tell families how to raise their children-or grandchildren, or foster children. What happened to our morals? Did we sell them out too?

Jesus tells us a little leaven goes through the whole loaf, leaven representing sin. And it has permeated our country and society. Even in our churches, pastors have adopted programs and studies based on man's books, rather than teaching scripture. Giving up morals for social morays of the day. Trendy. Coexist-don't make me puke. Compromise ruins all-now that's coexistence. Lower the standard enough, and all will hit it. Trying to teach people to become better people on the outside, rather than a change from the inside. Simply put-without a change of heart, there is no change of actions-or attitudes. So if the churches won't do it, where do we turn?

First there are many churches that do-thankfully they have not succumbed to humanism. But first turn to God. Why turn to man who is broke and weak when you need money and strength? Go directly to God, who is available 24/7, never sleeps, and has only your best interest in mind. No religion, no rules, no club to join-just love. And as you find your heart changing to Him, you find a joy that goes way beyond emotions. A security way beyond riches, and a hope a future. But it takes trusting God. And we don't trust someone we don't know-hey I know lots of people I still don't trust. But God is faithful-give Him a chance.

Think of this next time you see a train. Each container car represents a job lost, a family disrupted, and a life interrupted. Turn to God before you end up like one of the cars, and its cargo. Jesus loves you-in fact scripture tells us His train fills the temple. Pardon my pun.

I miss America. Don't wait until it is too late and miss God. Today could be the day of your salvation. God bless America-but America-LET'S BLESS GOD!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogpsot.com

baby, you can't drive your car

After 54 days outside of So Cal, I had gotten used to different types of driving. True, most of my time was spent in the back seat of a rented Toyota, due to my surgery, but we still experienced a strange phenomena-courtesy! People would wave you to go first. Very few cell phone ingrates-although one is too many, and turn signals used when turning. Which as we got closer to So Cal evaporated-the true line of demarcation was Barstow. Could Barstow really be the edge of civilization? Sadly now that I am back almost two weeks, I have gotten used to California's driving habits, and will probably revert to some myself.

Some of the unique California habits are found on the freeway, where some mindless twit will be going 45-50, while texting. In the fast lane. And if you honk, still has the manual dexterity to show you who is number one. I saw a shirt I would like to wear while riding, just to get their attention, "honk if you have never seen a gun fired from a motorcycle!" Sadly they might not get it, the words are spelled correctly, not txts. Another habit is driving for miles with your turn signal on, impeding traffic is all other lanes who wish to pass, but aren't sure when or if you are going to turn. Almost a guarantee, go to pass, this yuck will cut you off-never looking up. Which goes along with the unwritten law about turn signals-when used they mean look out, I am about to turn without looking. It is like just the signal makes them invincible, but not invisible. Again, honk to be reminded of who is #1!

The old joke about no one walking in California is personified in parking lots. I watch as cars circle the lots looking for a space closer to the store. Maybe the extra 20 feet of walking will adversely affect those in their $150 walking shoes. And then worse, if they spot someone who may be leaving, will position themselves in the middle of the lane, and block traffic both ways while waiting. Usually while a better space becomes available, which now no one can get to. Which answers the age old question, how do you blind a soccer mom? Put a windshield in front of her! And the true test of determining where you learned to drive-waiting until the last minute to apply the brakes. Both rude, stupid, and hard on the brakes. Did none of these anticipate stopping? Not if a parking space opens up! I guess you have to protect that last part of what is "your" road. Finally, for you brave ones, look in your rear view mirror. Drafting works in NASCAR, no reason anyone should cling to your rear bumper, particularly those under the influence of kids. Who bought the safest mini-van to protect them. We can build better cars-can we improve upon the driver?

Sadly we all drive according to our own rules. I blame the DMV-somebody had to pass these idiots! And to me it has helped society erode whatever evidence of goodness and kindness we have left. Thankfully God hasn't forgotten, who is good and kind, but today it is so rare we seem to only see it via miracles. But that also gives us more time to see God's love. We decided to drive back from Albuquerque, and were OK with the $250 drop off fee-still cheaper than flying, even when figuring gas, food, and motels. But upon arrival, the decided to waive the fee, as a kindness due to our situation-without asking! And we were to see this kindness repeated over and over, from restaurants to bike shops. We were shown to what to us were unusual kindnesses-maybe an example we can learn from. Blessing someone-and remembering that when we do, that we are blessed more. A Biblical principal lost in our "all about world." If you want a blessing, bless someone.

It is OK to hold a door for others. To let someone with a few items in front of you in line. To give up that precious parking space-even cancelling your turn signal would be a blessing. And if these things are too hard for your all important daily routine, just try smiling. It can light up a dark room-and at the least make them wonder what you are up to. Then tell them how God has blessed you-even a smile can show the love of God.

So don't delay. Back in 1955, James Dean, the coolest before Steve McQueen arrived-both Triumph riders, made a Public Service Ad about traffic safety. "Drive safe-the life you safe may be my own," he said. Prophetically he died before it aired, when a car turned in front of him. In where, you guessed it, California.

Trust Jesus today, the life He saves may be your own. Pray for the one who cuts you off, or annoys you. If God can change a heart like yours, imagine what He can do for someone not as fortunate as you! Now that's a miracle!

Kindness and goodness-the fruit of the spirit!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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test results

We were buying some items for a trip a few years back when the cashier told me my license had expired-the state had not notified me. So getting a temp before we left-a permit, upon return from our 7500 mile ride I took the test-and failed! Like many other experienced riders, I had found if you ride like they say-you'll crash. So after explaining my last two weeks ride to the DMV woman, she suggested I sit at her desk and take the test again. She disappeared for a few minutes, conveniently, leaving the answers in plain view for me. And she was pleased when I only got a 100! It seems passing the test was different then real life, and after 35 years she figured I may have some experience. She knew the real test was could I ride-not pass tests.

After my open heart surgery I had an infectious disease doctor, Dr. Ross, and Dr. Walinsky who operated on me. Both got the same lab results, with Dr. Ross's advice different. His was a purely analytical approach, do this to get back within the boundaries, while Dr. Walinsky was more concerned about my reactions after surgery. Both right, but both different, and both concerned for my well being. Sorta like the law vs. the spirit-both right, but one gave me a freedom based on background, while one was based on facts and figures-very impersonal. Life in both cases was the objective.

Jesus tells us the law is death, while the spirit gives life. He also tells us that He fulfilled the law!

And He desires we live in the spirit-which gives freedom! It is like a man I once met, who was trying to get closer to God. He read the Bible more, did more studies, prayed more, and was frustrated after 18 months. If only he would have let the spirit guide him. After we talked, he realized he wasn't trusting God, but doing what he felt would make God like him more. You see you cannot earn God's grace, nor make Him love you more. And it is the spirit that reveals all the mysteries of God. Not study, but spending time with God. Which will include God. You cannot do things to make Him give you favor, but you can let Him guide your life by the Holy Spirit! Grace is truly about God, and His grace does not need us. It is not dependent on our participation-it is a gift that cannot be earned. He loves us the same while still being a sinner, yet we try to impress Him. He calls it pride, and it stands between us and Him. And God wants nothing to get between us!

Give it over to God today. Trust Him. Because He is trustworthy. He sees you as you are, and takes all things into consideration. When He says all things work together, he means all! Not just what we think is convenient for us. He is always there, has the right answers, and it all will work out for us. If we are obedient. So quit arguing with God, and desire to come to a point in your prayer life where it is all thanksgiving. For when you truly trust Him, you will ask no more-only praise Him and worship Him. Talk with Him today, and give Him a chance to answer. You may find that just like the DMV woman, the answers are right in front of you, all you need to do is trust.

I think that deserves a ride, don't you?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the smiling doctor is Dr. Peter Walinsky-the best!

summer vacation, part 4-of motorcycles, memories, and Moses

It looks like I will be back riding next week. And hopefully riding more bikes from Triumph's Press Fleet by Labor Day. After eight long weeks, riding again will be reality. Something that at one time I could never imagine doing again, then told it would take months, I shall be doing in weeks. A passion for riding that God has given me will be fulfilled, all but closing out the emotional and physical healing since my surgery. Another miracle in a long list of them.

Riding so many different bikes, when asked by someone who hasn't ridden that model, I have to try and describe it to them. It handles like, is faster than, has better brakes, and it is all relative to what they may have ridden. And they can only imagine, since they haven't experienced them. They are left up to their own devices of what they must be like, but fall short of the true experience-of really having ridden. How many times have I heard friends describe me riding a bike that is yet unavailable to the public, like they rode it themselves, quickly changing their tune when asked if they rode it. Unless you have ridden it, it is just hearsay. Even courts won't admit that.

Since my open heart surgery, I have heard various heart and arterial procedures described as open heart. I had been warned by a doctor and a nurse that many would do this, and not even realize they were-some who even have only had stints replaced think that they have had open heart. And a man I met last night told me about his open heart surgery, only to have had a pacemaker installed. Still serious, but not open heart. At least to those in the cardiac profession. So when I met a young man yesterday, who was glad to see me, he told me he knew many who had open heart surgery, and knew quite a bit about it. And as he rambled, he sounded foolish. So I stopped him-abruptly, and told him I really did have open heart surgery, and although knew little about it, would he like to see my scar? I had been there-not sure where he had been. And then he left, I guess I'll never know. It's like learning about LA from a news report, or seeing a post card. You have to go there to experience it.

Of late I have begun to feel like Moses. When he came off the mountain after time with God, he was faced with trying to describe something infinite in finite terms. No way anyone could know what he had been through, God kept it that way, very personal between the two of them. And while in a coma, and after, God has taken me to very intimate, personal places with Him. Things I cannot describe, like the peace He gave me. Way beyond euphoria, way beyond emotions, I was totally in His love. And this wasn't even heaven, as one time I asked if I was still alive, and when He answered yes, blew my mind of what heaven would be. I have tried to even rethink the thoughts, but I cannot. God gave me this time for me-and doesn't want me to share it with anyone else but Him-so He made it that personal. He even fulfills scripture in this when He says "eye has not seen, no ear heard, nor mind imagined the things of God." And I have lived this scripture, with a jealous God who doesn't want to share me with things of the world. He wants nothing to come between us. And like He took Moses up on the mountain so they could be alone without interference, He took me in the spirit while in a coma and showed me love-in a place where no one would bother us. That's love.

But unlike where He gave Moses His law written on tablets of stone, He wrote on my heart. And left me with a scar if anyone doubts. But also left His unique nail pierced handprint on my heart that no one else can see-our time together was that special. Truly my surgery was open heart-physically and spiritually.

Trust God today. Pick up your cross and follow Him. It takes a sacrifice, but the rewards are indescribable. You see if could describe them, it wouldn't be God. Joy unspeakable and full of glory.

Just you and Jesus. And He offers it to all His children, who have earned the right by accepting Jesus. Don't wait for surgery-His offer is available now-let's pray.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

summer vacation, part 3-hall of fame ministers

In Matthew 25 Jesus confronts church people, who claim they ministered to Him. But in effect they only did things to draw attention to themselves. True ministry is of God, about God, and involves God-sometimes you are just there. And just like Jesus did, it always points to God. For an example, these lying evangelists who desire of you to get blessed-grace is about Jesus, and not you-it is what He did and who He is-not you. You cannot earn or persuade God. It wouldn't be grace. And God, true to His word, tells us ALL things work together for the glory of God-not just good or convenient or even just involving Christians. So here we go, some of those involved, who God allowed to bless us-working independently but together with God's perfect plan. Prepare to be amazed.

First-this is all about Jesus, Theresa and I were just characters. For God's glory and our benefit. And all these people didn't act on their own, but under God's guidance, even though they may not know it or admit it. God truly has things under control, and orders our steps.

Our friend Dal Mize, our first pastor, great friend, and like a dad to us. We were staying with him in Durango, and he kept us calm, and focused in the face of danger. He told me many times, "I am here for Theresa, don't worry," and I didn't. How many 76 year olds do you know who will drive 250 miles at night, to take your wife to meet you after Life flight has landed? God knew-and so do we.

Lucia, Theresa's sister, although they had hadn't talked in years, when her sister called, flew to Albuquerque to assist. And her other sisters paid for the plane flight. Lucia sat with her and consoled, prayed, and loved on her throughout the whole ordeal. Going way beyond anything you could have done on her own. I hope she was as blessed as we were-even more.

My sons, Andrew, who was stuck home in bed, and then had shoulder surgery. He sent out prayer requests and updates, and helped Theresa handle all the business at home. And now is closer to God than ever-I can never say how proud I am of him.

Christopher, who got back from a gig in Spain, and flew to see me. He gave me strength and aided his mom. Debbie, one of my nurses, paid us the ultimate compliment, "your son loves you very much." A special thanks to Jessica, who selflessly paid for his flight.

Walt and Pat, who owned the home we stayed at for a month in Rio Rancho. We never met them, and they were so glad to have us stay there-reminding us it was God's house, and to be blessed. We still are. And Pete and Shirley, their neighbors, who were there when needed. A big thanks!

To PJ who owns PJ's Triumph, and who I have known casually for about six years. When he saw me with my heart pillow, asked who was my surgeon. When I told him, he replied, "Peter is my best friend, and neighbor. He told me all about you-said it was the hardest surgery he ever performed." Then told me to hang out whenever I wanted at the shop, and when cleared to ride, he would loan me a bike. And to Aaron and Dylan who showed great friendship, and compassion to us. Just curious, what are the chance of Peter and PJ being best friends, and coming together under these circumstances in a city of 625,000? A cardiologist and a biker? IN God's plan-100%!

To Peter our cardiologist, head of cardiology at Presbyterian. God had the best surgeon, the best nurses and staff, and had everything under control.

Dalana, our friend who works for Hilton, who got us a room under their Friends and Family deal the last two nights before we got home. To Tina in Phoenix, who put us on a prayer list, that was read in Tennessee, who called her friend in Albuquerque who brought meals-Jan. Whose friend Brandy brought us two other meals, and who we got to minister to about her son. Still doubt in miracles?

To all the folks at Monroe's who fussed over us, and other places we ate who made sure we were fed correctly. To my first co-worker in New Mexico from 1975, who walked by me in Santa Fe Harley-and we got to visit-he is the Sales Manager. Coincidence? After over 30 years?

I have always said if you need something done, ask a biker. But before we could, Ned told Ken they would drive to Durango to pick up my bike and trailer it back. Cool, you say. They are in Black Sheep, Harley Davidsons for Christ, and I ride a Triumph! Talk about Good Samaritans! A true example of true ministry, if you see a need fill it. And they did in love. Good thing God isn't brand specific. How do you ever thank someone for something like that? Thanks guys-you rock.

To all Black Sheep who donated money? Tears of thanks.

To Melissa who acted as our "attorney" in our absence. It's time I rethink my views of attorneys. You and your bosses are one of a kind.

To all those who fed us, Glen and Penny, Cathy and Jim, Nick, Ellen, and so many others-we never ate alone.

I could go on, but like John says, if all the things Jesus did were written, no library could hold them. In our lives, it is time for that new library.

Special thanks to the pastors and staff at Maranatha, and Calvary Chapel Escondido. Way beyond the call-what example you set to the community at large. To the Kollasch family-we can never thank you enough. True ministry and a true witness of Jesus Christ.

Hebrews 13 is the faith hall of fame, this is mine. Take some time to thank God today, and set up your own hall. Worship Jesus like never before. And watch as you become alive in the scriptures-may He find favor in all you do.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

if you weren't mentioned, we still thank you-and more importantly God knows!

summer vacation, part 2-the miracles

We looked forward to August 1st with great excitement, for it was the day that Peter, my cardiologist was to give me my final release. I was feeling great, and must admit I liked hearing how well I looked and was doing, but it was his words that would allow us to come home. So my prayer was simple, that he would have to look at the scars to believe I had had open heart surgery. A big request from a man who only three weeks earlier had to be taught to swallow, and couldn't lift a spoon to feed himself. Who had no regimen for rehab, just keeping me alive was the regimen. Whose wife had stayed by his side every step of the way, and been through more than I had. Who had faced death, but not alone. A lot to ask, but remember who my God is.

It was five weeks after my surgery, and we were greeted by Dr. Mayberry, whose opening line was, "if it wasn't for the picc lines, I never would have known you had surgery!" Prayer answered, another miracle. And Peter echoed the same thoughts. This from a man who said the three words that best described me were "dead, dead, dead." But it got better, as after my examination, I was released to drive, and to resume a normal life. No restrictions, just an improved diet. What usually takes months, had taken days or weeks. God's healing schedule was far superior. Peter is a great surgeon, but I had the greatest physician-Jesus. Amazing. He even commented to me, how God had brought me this far, keep up the good work. And I only needed to be checked every six months! But I still had to wait to ride, because of being on Coumadin, and he was afraid if I fell I would bleed to death. Another month! I can remember when I thought I would never ride again!

But God's healing was still miraculous to me, on many levels. It was only after we got home and people saw I wasn't in a wheelchair, I could walk, and saw my scar that God showed me one evening His love in a special way. I had picked up my cross and followed Him during this whole event, and He told me to continue following Jesus, never losing sight of the cross. Very few had seen what I had endured, and we neglect to see what Jesus endured for us. As Christians, we like to go straight to the empty tomb, but the victory was won at the cross. And we don't want to visit there, because it was horrible what Jesus endured for us. He reminded me NO Easter without Good Friday. And I still had to carry my cross and follow, which I did going way beyond faith, but had done by obedience. I trusted God with no reservations, and still do. He is my savior and the gospel I live, not my own when the situations fit my plans. One man had told me I had walked through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and was amazed when I told him no, I had been carried through the Valley!

And an aspect of prayer I would like you to consider. WE heard from people all over the world, and from friends we had lost contact with for over 25 years. They all were praying. Amazing. But the neat thing was this had all happened so fast, that even before we could pray, or ask for prayer, God had set everything in motion. He later told me He had people pray for me, so they could be part off my miraculous healing-a chance for Him to show His love and greatness, and them to be blessed. This whole thing was not about us, but about Jesus Christ-never think different.

As you read the New Testament, Jesus healed many people. He dealt with them on a spiritual level, but always gave them something physical to show people the difference. To remind them. I deal with many who have scars that don't show, but never lead them to anyone without the nail scars in His hands. My scar-all 12 inches and 26 staples is there to show how far I have come, or better yet how far Jesus has taken me. The attached image is the day after surgery. I wear my scar with great joy, as it was paid for with a price, and a love that no man can offer. I am a miracle-not an invalid.

Trust God today. Hear His voice and obey. Never put down your cross. Celebrate the Good Friday you may be enduring. Easter is coming, and it is all the more precious when you celebrate with the one who is the reason-Jesus Christ. Let Him show you His hands-then decide.

Tomorrow the people God used to be and bring His miracles. Looks like I will be riding within two weeks!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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