The Great American Pastime

Ever tune into a movie in the middle and wonder what is going on?  I did yesterday, but with the help of the description from the movie guide I figured it out.  Tom Ewell, a successful lawyer, was asked to manage his son’s Little league team, and hoping it would draw him closer to his son, he took the job.  His wife Anne Francis, she of Honey West fame, kept score and the boys were taught by him the basics of baseball.  With an emphasis of playing fair, and you may not win every game, but try your hardest.  And have fun.  Which they did, have fun.  Until in one game a smaller kid retaliated by pushing his catcher, and the catcher pushed the smaller kid back.  Kids being kids, a small melee soon took place, and then parents being parents joined in, too. Later in the locker room, the parents were upset the coach didn’t have his players retaliate, but he rather had them try to break up the fracas.  And when he gave them the chance to pull their kids from the team if they didn’t like his coaching, they all did. 

But came back later for practice, and the season went on.  They won some, lost some, some were rained out, but the parents never forgot.  It was about winning at all costs, giving them bragging rights in their 1956 subdivision.  But in the last game of the year, against their arch rivals, the kids go out all out to win, but do it by playing the game hard, like they were taught.  And found out how much fun they were having.  They end up winning when the smallest kid on the team is put in as a pinch runner, and keeps running, disregarding the throws and finally scores.  Playing hard as the coach had told him.  They had won, fair and square, and the kids were happy, the parents still sore, holding a grudge. Then we fast forward to the coach’s home, and he is feeling sorry for himself.  He gave it his all, even gave up his vacation to Mexico to manage, and no one seemed to care afterwards.  Finally we get the happy ending we all love, as the kids show up, they loved their coach, and took to heart what he taught them.  The parents showed up too, from the coach through their sons they too had learned a lesson.  And the kids gave him a stein he had wanted, and he was offered to become scout leader.  Much to the chagrin of his wife....who was to feel abandoned again.  But cheered up when told she could be den mother.  Tough choice of giving her up for a troop of boys, one brief shot of her in a a bubble bath may have swayed my decision.  And it all ended happily ever after.  Just like in real life, right?

I played a lot of soft ball in my day, but none so competitive as when I played in a church league.  These pious holy men in church became raving fanatics one the field.  Pastors who played were called names, ridiculed, and some of the dirtiest ball I ever saw took place.  The idea was to win at all costs, and rather than representing your church, family, or even God, it was all about the individuals, then the team.  And once when reminded that you don’t win every game, they fell onto scripture, incorrectly, and claimed as church members, they should always win, because God always wins.  And when reminded God was God and they weren’t, men within the team started fighting with each other.  And the last thing we had was fun, and even though we won a championship one year, the dissention among the players had spread to the wives, and to others in the church.  Suddenly brother so and so wasn’t so holy because he was a  lousy shortstop.  The things of God became secondary, if at all.  It was all about winning, and sadly through winning it all, had lost something along the way.

We were created in God’s image, lest we forget like these men did.  We are to be holy, but fortunately he added mercy and grace to the game plan.  In being holy, he expects us to be whole, to be like him, a whole person, the same one on the field and off, as in church and at work.  Or play.  A whole person performs the function we were created for, and we were created to be that expression of God as a witness to others, to enjoy all the fruits of being a Christian.  Whole, which produces holiness.  To not miss what he has planned for us, and to be richly blessed, for as our heavenly father, he loves to bless us.  So why not let him?

We find that God is not interested in the things we do to try to please him, but bring attention to ourselves, but he wants us to represent him.  To maybe be the only Bible some ever read, the only Jesus some may encounter, to be a witness of him, not of us or our winning.  He is interested in the character within us, at church, at work, at home, and on the playing field.  To be an example of the wholeness of a living, loving God, who gave it all through his son Jesus so we can be reunited with him.  Only in Christ will we become whole, and finally holy.  And so he has put a hole in our heart, that only he can wholly fill.  That without his fulfilling it, we can never be whole or holy.  No matter how great a team, church, or record you have.  Without Jesus you can never be whole.

And his desire is we become holy because he is holy.  So take heed to the things the spirit shows you, stand against wrong, stand up for the right, but do it in love.  God has taught us through his word the things we should avoid and why.  Yet many feel they are above God, it will never happen to me because I’m saved, I can do what I want.  And suffer, if only because they went astray, not doing what Jesus showed us, what God wants.   The same God who brought the Israelites out of captivity, who fed them manna, and who sent Jesus, has given us his spirit, but also a choice.  For true love demands a choice.  We can be holy, or unholy.  Sadly the team I played on was unholy, and men I respected at church lost all my respect after one season.  Teaching me many lessons, among them forgiveness.  And we don’t get to heaven as a team, family, or even a church, it is our choice to follow God or not.  You choose, he leaves it up to you. 

Funny but maybe not, how a secular movie showed me things about being holy.  That is the holy spirit, wishing to make us whole.  Winning may be everything to some, but God is more interested in how you play the game.  In every contest, every game, every decision there is a choice to make.  Choose to be holy, as God desires, and find when you make him the desire of your heart, holiness follows.  You cannot teach it, learn it, buy or sell it.  For like grace, it is a gift from God via his spirit, you must experience it.  In the movie, the kids got it, the parents took a little longer.  Do not neglect the children or hinder them from seeking Jesus.  “Come as children,” he advises, if we could only see God as children do, maybe we would listen more.  It was prophesied “a child will lead you,” if it works on the playing field, imagine what it can do in your personal life!  Through a son, we are taught about the father.  The spirit is willing, are you?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

selling at no reserve

If you follow auctions at all, you can tell the pulse of the market for cars and motorcycles.  Cars have now become so expensive that only the privileged few can afford them, whoever thought between $100,000 and $1 million for a MOPAR Barracuda that they only made 7 of?  Because no one wanted them when new?  But now scarcity adds to value, and the few who have the much can afford to own one.  Now each car sent to auction has a perceived value, one that the owner has in his mind that the car is worth.  Add or subtract the sentimental value, mileage, condition, rarity, and desirability, and you have a value for the car.  And the seller then can place a reserve on the car, a number that until it obtained in a bid, he doesn’t have to sell the car.  But some sell at no reserve, or lower the reserve when the bidding gets close, to sell the car.  But few cars sell at no reserve, as many do not wish to gamble on the bidders that day, have set a number they need to get for the car, or feel it is really worth.  And if not bid to the reserve, take it home.  So selling at no reserve can really heat up the bidding, or depress the value of the car, it comes down to what the bidders are willing to pay for the car that day.  Buy for love, sell for money....

But now that cars have reached a higher buy in plateau, old trucks are taking over, and the prices are going sky high.  $50k for an old Chevy or Ford?  Again the market is telling us what sells, and old trucks are hot. The one time workhorse of America, the work truck, the one abused and under maintained, the one that ran until it died, is now collectible.  And even parts only trucks sell for $10k, and whereas they were once parts trucks, as the supply dwindles, they are restored.  And a buyer is ready in each case.  But with their prices outta sight, now motorcycles are moving in, and moving up.  Look at the ridiculous prices paid for old Harleys, Indians, and Triumphs.  Just to sit and not be ridden, and if it happened to be owned by one Terrence Steven McQueen, you will pay double, to put your seat where his sat, but never get ridden. So many car, trucks, and motorcycles that were once used as transportation are now collectible, and sit unridden, undriven, but highly cared for, far from their initial use.  We all like to look at them, but it is more fun to drive them, to see how fast they really perform, and remember how far we have really come, or not come.  For somewhere between memory and perception lies truth, and the answer to “what’ll she do?” 

But recently a new class of collector vehicles is emerging, ones that have patina, and are left as found.  High miles, maybe a barn find, they are not restored, and the stories they tell by looking at them add value.  Compared to an over restored car, that is restored better than it ever left the factory, old unrestored cars tell a story.  From lube and oil stickers on door jams, to window sills worn form arm resting on them, to pedals worn, and paint faded, they tell a story better.  Because they have one.  And the proof is there, push an old button on the radio, maybe 77 WABC comes up, or WOR, and you can be given an insight to the driver.  They have character, and a class all their own, because they are real.  Because they have a story to tell, and spending some time with them the story is told.  A value not worht dollars and sense, but one that no value can be placed on.

Life is like that.  So is walking with the Lord.  We are advised to seek out and listen to advice from the older men and women.  To seek wisdom from them, to gain information to help make decisions, and to pass it on to others.  Driving an old car from the 40’s may seem slow at 50, but when you remember the speed limit was only 35-45, the car seems to fit the speed.  But if it tries to keep pace with today’s speeds, it can’t, and will suffer if it does.  So the Bible also advises us to help the older ones, to aid them, and learn from them.  Going through some old cook books from my Grandma, from when she was married in the 1920’s, that same recipe works today.  Real ingredients, when home made was all there was, as store bought was still a decade away.  A glimpse into yesterday that still works today.  Looking back to look ahead, do you?

It has been written that the chemicals in the human body add up to about $20, more in California.  But Jesus bought us with a price, at no reserve.  No matter how high the bidding for your soul, he tops it.  He calls it love, and his forgiveness is like no other.  For your value is not based on condition, but him, and he is priceless.  He takes the old bodies, old minds, old hearts, and makes them new.  He renews the spirit, giving it life and value. He renews the mind, giving insight and wisdom not found any other place.  And he forgives, loving you as you are, but not wishing to leave you that way.  And we get new bodies some day, perfect, not restored, but new.  No patina in heaven, and the reserve has been lifted.  Others may know about us, but he loves us. 

And we become bond slaves, not a slave bought, but a slave who offers their allegiance to him.  Our choice.  At one time a hole in the ear lobe to signify it, now a changed heart, shown in action and attitude.  We are changed, yet many live like a high priced collector car, hidden away.  Our initial purpose when created was to worship God, to get out and share his love with others, yet many hide in churches, stay home and don’t participate.  And we miss the story of their testimony, and the blessings God has planned to share through them.

Cruise nights are popular now, bringing the old cars out and sharing the stories, reliving the good old days.  If it works for cars and trucks, why can’t it work with testimonies?  How about a cruise night for Jesus?  Before and after pictures of who you were, and how Jesus changed you?  Many will gather around a 1954 Corvette, imagining how it was, how about a 1954 Mike sharing how it was?  First hand?  Maybe for the first time coming to grips with how valuable you really are, and the price Jesus paid for your soul.  Yet some will go the beauty parlor route, the nip and tuck route, and even the personal trainer route.  And wonder why their wine skinned life cracks under pressure?  Spend some time with Jesus today, tell him your story, let him add details you forgot, and then tell others.  Tell them at no reserve, for no value can be assessed for your testimony.  In real estate and collector cars you didn’t pay too much, you just bought too soon.  God’s timing is always right on, the stories told in scripture thousands of years old, yet contemporary. 

Somewhere under all the grease and oil of life lies a heart.  One that needs changing.  One that is crying out for God.  And only Jesus can fulfill it.  Today is the day of salvation, let the restoration begin.  Add value to your life that no one else can, and that no one else could afford to.  When the price for your soul came up, only Jesus had the reserves to purchase it.  And he still does today.  Jesus saves, and someone once said “and at today’s prices that’s a miracle.”  Bidding at auction will tell you what a car is worth, only Jesus knows the value of life.  Put a sold sticker on your soul, sold out to Jesus.  No matter how much you think you are worth, you will only true value in Christ.  Patina is back in style, the patina of a lost soul never lost its value to him.  And you always get taken home. 

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

are you a fluke of the universe or are you finding comfort in being a part thereof*

I once knew a famous off road race driver who was legendary.  He was known internationally, had won many Baja races and if I mentioned his name you would recognize it.  But because of the following story I won’t, out of respect.  This famous racer was asked to do a commercial for one of his sponsors, so showing up in his driving suit, he was told to just read the cue cards, they would be over in no time.  But after many takes where he deviated from the cards, some not even coming close to what was written on them, the man holding them mentioned to the director “I don’t think he knows how to read.”  So placing a card in front of him insulting him, he went off as before, deviating from it, unable to read the card insulting him.  Finally they just asked him to ad lib about the product, one take was all it took and all were happy. 

Another off road icon, who builds his own trucks, and now has his own race series, hired an engineer out of college to design them.  He had great grades, had graduated from an admirable school, and had raced successfully in SCCA races, sports cars.  But his truck designs were dangerous, poorly designed, and prone to fail.  My company and I were called in to advise, and when asking pertinent questions, found out this man had never even been to an off road race, let alone seen a truck.  He was going off successful specs for sports cars, not vehicles that take a pounding for 1000 miles in the desert where there are no roads.  He had the degree, just not the experience, and argued we didn’t know what we were doing.  One mention of our sponsorship with NASCAR, and how they use us for fastener advice, we were quickly shown to have earned our reputation.  But so was he....and they built the trucks to our specs, not his.  As did many other off road winners....

At Coca Cola I worked with a man who was hired because of his connections.  He had been a successful, highly respected football coach, the alumni and students all loved him, as well as his fellow teachers.  But he found himself working for us because he had been fired after many years of success.  Which didn’t make any sense, until one day he confided in me he had lied on his resume.  He never attended the colleges he claimed, nor even finished school.  He had no connections outside his fake resume, but none the less was successful.  Until they looked into his background, read his resume. The school took a dim light on this, and fired him, many in tears.  The rest of the people, students, teachers, and other schools didn’t care he had lied, he was a winner.  But no other school would hire him, because he was a liar.  And so Coach, as every one called him had a reputation for winning games, but also lying on his resume. 

An old adage tells us a marksman is known by his aim not his arrows.  All three men were known for their accuracy in their field, but based on their arrows, except for the designer/engineer never would have been hired.  And he was a failure based on his arrows, his aim was horrible.  He was no marksman.  Years ago when looking to get into ministry, I looked on the web, engaging Christian head hunters, the job finding type, not the savage ones.  Although they may be easily confused.  They didn’t care about my experience, where did I go to school?  What were my grades?  Did I have a DD, doctor of divinity?  I had no arrows, but my aim had brought me face to face with many to minister too.  If they had asked about my aim, I could have shared many testimonies, but they were more concerned about the arrows in my quiver, and the quiver they came in.  So I followed God, and let him guide me by his spirit.  Only he will ever know how successful I have been, or how I would have totally failed without him.

And so when encountering two men last week, who we used to go to church with, they were excited about the new church they were attending.  The pastor was young, but had lots of degrees, a DD, and all his staff was well educated.  They invited me to come and see, and I hemmed and hawed, for this man and his staff may be good teachers, may have degrees to prove their education, but where was the fruit of their labors? Were these friends of mine more impressed with their credentials than their testimonies?  I am and was.  Yet today many are like these men, good men, who thrive on education, but have no application of it in their testimonies.  Proverbs tells us an empty stable stays clean, but makes no money.  Never getting out of the church and applying the love of Jesus you learn about is sad.  Yet any wear out the seats of their pants, their whole Christian experience one of listening to a man hiding behind a pulpit, teaching them the word, but never having them engage in it.  Saving shoe soles, not seeing souls saved.  They live life like monks, a vow of silence they didn’t know they took, for they are much different at work, or when shopping.  Their church persona belies any knowledge of the love of Jesus when outside the church.  They brag on knowledge, of trips to Israel, they know where Jesus walked, but fail in walking with him in day to day life.  Whereas a worn out Bible used to mean a life that wasn’t, their’s is worn out from studying, studying to find themselves approved.  By man, not by God.  And their reputation within the church is exemplary, and they are safe as long as they stay within the 4 walls.  Yet Jesus gave us the example to get out and live, to share him as we go.  They never fail because they never attempt what they have learned.  They have knowledge of Jesus, just not this wisdom, or his love.  They love the others in the church, but heaven help anyone who questions them or doesn’t agree with their doctrines.  Their pious heads rear back and they quote scripture, just not as Jesus did or intended it. 

Are you known by your arrows, or even your quiver?  Or your aim?  Do you miss sometimes, but your aim is love, and to minister love to others in need?  When in a group sharing, do you come up short in education, but long on application?  When they share about what they learned in Bible study, does your testimony prove it?  Many Christians brag on their clean barns, a tidy stable.  But are really unstable when it comes to the things of God.  Their resume when checked out shows no experience, Christian or other.  They follow the cue cards, reading words they know, just not the God who inspired them.  They have no flexibility in the spirit, as they claim God’s way is the only way, and end up in the way.  No spiritual guiding in their lives, but they know scripture.  Today stop and take a self examination of where you are in Christ.  Is he Lord, guiding you by his holy spirit, or are you constantly studying to find approval from others?  When you see a man in need do you pray about it or do something about it?  Working for Roger Penske, I learned the best definition of teamwork I ever heard, “if it needs to be done, do it.”  Jesus did, and tells us we can do even more in his name, by his spirit.  Some will put up stats, some will gain a degree, thinking they have an education.  Even have the diploma to prove it.  But then there are those who win, sometimes ugly, but they win.  Life is like that,  Christians end up in heaven, the ride is what separates them.  Their testimonies being told.  Being in the picture, rather than looking at it.  I once was hired to cut trees not because of any equipment I owned, they would provide it.  But the interview was only one question, and although many were more qualified than me, I got the job.  The question was “what have you done the last two weeks?”  While many had been hunting or skiing, I had been cutting wood for a hotel.  I showed the desire to go out and do the job...what does your testimony tell others about Jesus?  Still seeking, still praying, still waiting for a calling?  Look around, Jesus didn’t have to look very far, and neither do you.  The ad asks “what’s in your wallet?”  What’s in your quiver?  Your heart?  Are your arrows new and shiny because they have never been used?  Or is your quiver old and worn, your fingers calloused rather than your heart from use?  Are you learning about Jesus or experiencing him?

Money will buy a fine dog, only love will make him wag his tail.  Check out your barn, your stable, your quiver and arrows today.  You cannot teach experience, you have to experience it.  Same with Jesus, knowledge will tell you about him, a relationship with him and you will get to know him.  Walking with him is more important than walking where he walked, but both can be useful.  But only when the spirit guides you.  Moses got tablets of stone with commandments, Jesus writes his word on your heart.  With one commandment, to love God and others.  The Bible is written about things done and experienced, not philosophy or for gaining a degree.  An encouragement for all who read it, but only becoming real when applied.  New leathers often mean a poser, how shiny is your quiver?  You will never know how good your aim is until you shoot the arrows God has given you.  No matter what your resume says...

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

*with apologies to Deteriadata

Go placidly amid the noise and waste

And remember what comfort there may be in owning a piece thereof

Avoid quiet and passive persons, unless you are in need of sleep

Rotate your tires

Speak glowingly of those greater than yourself

And heed well their advice, even though they be turkeys

Know what to kiss, and when

Consider that two wrongs never make a right, but that three do

Wherever possible, put people on hold

Be comforted that in the face of all aridity and disillusionment

And despite the changing fortunes of time

There is always a big future in computer maintenance

You are a fluke of the universe

You have no right to be here

And whether you can hear it or not

The universe is laughing behind your back

Remember The Pueblo

Strive at all times to bend, fold, spindle, and mutilate

Know yourself

If you need help, call the FBI

Exercise caution in your daily affairs

Especially with those persons closest to you -

That lemon on your left, for instance

Be assured that a walk through the ocean of most souls

Would scarcely get your feet wet

Fall not in love therefore. It will stick to your face

Gracefully surrender the things of youth: birds, clean air, tuna, Taiwan

And let not the sands of time get in your lunch

Hire people with hooks

For a good time, call 606-4311. Ask for Ken

Take heart in the bedeepening gloom

That your dog is finally getting enough cheese

And reflect that whatever fortune may be your lot

It could only be worse in Milwaukee

You are a fluke of the universe

You have no right to be here

And whether you can hear it or not

The universe is laughing behind your back

Therefore, make peace with your god

Whatever you perceive him to be - hairy thunderer, or cosmic muffin

With all its hopes, dreams, promises, and urban renewal

The world continues to deteriorate

Give up!

You are a fluke of the universe

You have no right to be here

And whether you can hear it or not

The universe is laughing behind your back

You are a fluke of the universe

You have no right to be here

And whether you can hear it or not

The universe is laughing behind your back

old bikes, old riders, old trips, old stories

Maybe like Ray and I agree, we are not old, just older.  But being of the group of the older rider, it turns out we have ridden bikes that are old now, taken trips that are old now, ridden on roads that are old now, and I think you get the picture.  During the week when I ride, I encounter a different type of rider, those who have the time and aren’t in a hurry, and when they do reach their lunch destination talk of rides.  Rather than scars, prescriptions, operations, and handicaps like when I meet other older people, we talk of rides.  Past, present, and future.  And right now.  We talk of how easy it is to just get on the interstate and ride, never leaving home via chain motels or the greeting from Golden Arches.  With so many now travelling by cycle, we are even welcomed, or at least our credit cards are.  But we can remember because we were there when the routes taken took us through small towns, into big cities, and we met people along the way.  We saw the local flavor of the economy, waved back as kids sneaked a glance at us big, bad motorcyclists, and local cops seemed to be behind every billboard.  We had studied maps, and would again at lunch, and often ask directions, when some old timer would engage us in conversation.  How he had a 1928 Indian once, rode it from Colorado to Wyoming one summer....and he has the floor for story telling.  How he never rides any more, hasn’t in years, but still has it stored in his barn, maybe he will go out and look at it when he gets home.  Man he wishes to be young again.

We talk of $1.99 blue plate specials, which included a piece of pie, and a waitress who called you honey or sweetheart or darling.  As we eye our computer generated bill for $12.99-no pie today.  We talk of stopping when we saw a motorcycle dealership, no matter the brand, and we were welcomed.   Talked of old and new there too, and were wished well on our journey, and how they wished they could go too.  Before electric kick starters it was all leg and a little luck to get going, tickling the carbs until they giggled gas all over your boots, and off you went.  After warming up of course....Gas stops took a few minutes, maybe a bottle of Coke, no mini-marts yet to engage you, you filled first, and then paid the cashier, which was usually an attendant who asked “how fast she will she go?” and offered directions.  And who always had a rag ready to wipe spilled gas from the tank or check the oil.  A simpler time, when a handshake was your bond, and all riders were your brothers.  Maybe I do have time for that piece of pie after all.  We rode America, we were Americans, and many rode American bikes.  Some rode Limey bikes, rice rockets were still suspicious, and when a 450 beat your 650 you thought maybe there was something to them, except they were so ugly.  BMW riders rode “the Cadillacs,” and rode everywhere.  We were all different, but still the same.  Our brotherhood was motorcycles, our place of worship the road, our family was diverse yet united, and our witness was the tales we told.  Our dreams of roads and trips yet to come, our prayers for those riding them.  We waved at each other, when one was stopped along the road we stopped to offer assistance, and you were never alone.  Church was a weekly meeting to get together, and often the fellowship of a ride followed.  Wives were invited, but often stayed home,this was a man’s environment, filled with leather and denim, and the smell of grease and oil.  Engineer boots, maybe a helmet, all the gear all the time meant if it rained you got wet, and if it got cold so did you.  Unless you could line your jacket with newspaper.  Wind in our face, bugs in our teeth, and the thrill of the ride, and the anticipation of next week, and wondering how we would make it through the week until then.  Maybe the good old days were better than I remember.  But I have to remember that today’s rides will be those rides for some younger guys in 20-30 years.  What will they talk about over their ride stops?  Will they remember how they used to listen to the older guys back then, will the younger guys then be as welcomed? 

Today spot a rider in shiny leathers and it says Harley, just like his jacket.  Riding suits no matter the weather says BMW.  Full one piece leathers says sport bikes, and you can fill in the blanks with the wannabes.  We have become like religion, we all have the same Jesus, but each worships different ways.  Some steeped in legalism, making it easy to sin by having so many rules.  Maybe if we have no rules to break, we would sin less.  No rules, none to break.  Can I get an amen?  But it seems as we get closer to God through education, the arguments multiply.  King James, NIV, or New Living?  Contemporary or traditional services?  Sunrise services one Easter, even though Martin Luther liked to sleep in, hence the 11 am start times.  Wednesday night studies, Sunday school, then off to your car and hurry home.  Has our riding style become like religion, where once we were all riders, now we are Harley guys, cruiser types, sport bike riders, and why can’t we just be riders again?  Motorcyclists?  We have ministries that minister to one brand only, aren’t we supposed to get share with everyone?  Would Jesus ride a Harley?  Or an Indian?  How about a Honda riding Christ?  Yet we have brothers and sisters in Christ who ride all of them.  Would you feel comfortable riding with them, or ever be asked to attend their church? 

We need to get back to the basics of Christianity.  Jesus was born of a virgin, died on the cross for our sins, and rose again after 3 days, just like he said he would.  He rose faster than it takes to get bike parts sometimes.  His commandment was to love all as you go, and education didn’t impress him. Nor did your FICO score, how much you gave to church, or all the trips to Israel.  Did you show love as you went?  Did you minister to needs in his name, or were you too busy going to church to be a part of one?  For years I have advised when you need something done, call a biker.  Invite one, you invited all.  Just like Jesus did when he offered us forgiveness.  Maybe we need to listen to the older riders, to embrace their brotherhood, and learn from them about family.  To see the fundamental Jesus as one of love, not of religion, and love on others.  Seek advice from older riders as the Bible advises, feed the hungry, cloth the poor, and take in the strangers.  Too many have become strangers because they couldn’t meet the church’s requirements.  To sit and cry with a loved one over a loss, or stay up late with them.  Funny how in our time of need in Albuquerque, the church wasn’t there, but individuals were.  Who met the needs in Jesus name, and wanted to do more.  People who opened their hearts, homes, wallets, and gave in love.  One on one, personally, like the relationship with Christ so many talk about, but to who it is hollow words.  Maybe we need to go back to when it first happened to us, that first ride, first bike, first time with Jesus.  Have we really grown, or are we just groaning?

Take a trip back today so we can take a trip ahead.  But enjoy the trip today.  When you see someone in need stop.  An old biker courtesy is paying the toll for the car behind him, maybe let someone in line ahead of you.  Hold open a door.  Wave at a kid who is looking at your bike.  Sit him on it.  Let him be part of the picture instead of just looking at someone else in theirs.  Open your heart instead of your Bibles, start a conversation, and become a friend.  The spirit once started a conversation with you, pass it on in love.  And if you happen to stop to eat where bikes are parked outside, listen in.  You may find yourself welcomed, they want to share about their bikes and riding.  When talking Jesus do you mind being interrupted by someone wanting to know more?  Old bikers have old stories, from old trips on old roads.  Kick start your relationship today with Jesus.  No religion, just his love.  Listen in and become part of a fellowship, and welcome others.  Even if you don’t ride you can still stop to help someone, maybe let them use your cell phone to call for help.  Give them a ride.  Many people are looking for Jesus, he comes in the form of all of us.  Just ask the guy beaten and left for dead, but who a good Samaritan stopped to help.  The next time you see a person in need, what if it is you?  Would you cross over to avoid him?  Or be the first rider to stop and give aid?  Jesus would stop, maybe the best reason to ride after all.  And think of the places yet to ride....

love with compassion dressed in leather and denim,

Mike

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