life is a ball

A lot can be said for growing up in a neighborhood of boys. From palling up with one or two guys who become your best friends, to just hanging with the guys, many great times are had. Times outside, generally playing in the street, for my generation didn't have the burden of computers yet. You actually went outside and played-and were physical. And come to think of it, I don't remember very many fat kids, so we had no need of a presidential committee to study obesity in youths. We were kids, and we liked to play-from sunup to dinner time, then out again afterwards, until it was time to come in-when it got dark in the winter, and as late as 10 o'clock in the summer. Except on special nights when we slept out-not over, but out, on a patio or in a tent.

And the simplest yet most fun toy invented is the ball. Alone or in groups, you can play numerous games. Alone all it takes is a wall to throw it off of. And summertime meant baseball, and if you were good enough playing Little League. But even more fun, were the games you played on the streets, and the rules you made-ground rules the big leagues called them, courtesies to neighbors cars and yards to keep you out of trouble were a better description, each different for the times you played in front of each kids house. So many of our games were played in front of Scottie Aldinger's house, where a manhole cover was home plate, and the sewer drains were first and third bases. And at the circle by Chris Farley's, where any ball kicked onto the grass past the curb was an automatic homerun. Serious business at age 10.

Now asphalt can be hard on a leather covered hardball. So every once in a while someone would show up with a rubber covered hardball-but somehow it wasn't the same. With the real hardball, it would get scuffed, and then the cover start to tear, and you wanted to be the one hitting when the cover came off. Then the yarn would unwind, everywhere, until you were left with a hard rubber ball in the center, which was rumored to contain acid that would blind you if opened-so we never did. Golf ball centers were also rumored to have the same center, and once we even cut into one, with rubber bands exploding in our hands, we finally got to the center-but gave up-leaving an urban legend intact, at least in our neighborhood. We would occasionally get brave, and give one to a dog, watching him trying to bite it while the rubber bands snapped at his face, but would never let him bite into the rubber center.

Today kids have organized sports, with rules and adults, and not quite the fun. But I see many kids and adults whose lives are unraveling like the old baseballs we used to play with. But not realizing it until it is too late. Never realizing what is at the core, and just going onto another ball. And we still like to watch dogs fight/bite at the rubber bands while chewing a golf ball, but don't understand when our live becomes like one. For at the center of each is our heart, and without God we find a hard center, that we are afraid to open up-might be poison inside. So as our life unravels, we go with it, keeping it all inside until it is too late-game over.

Or we become like the rubber covered ball, thick skinned, and not the just same as the real thing. Our lives become a substitute for what they could be in Christ. And soon we find without baseballs to play with-our game is over, rained out.

Only in Christ does he offer you extra innings, a chance to give it all up to Him, and to let our inner core soften. And as I watch people's lives unravel in front of me, they are looking for something as a solution, when it is really a someone they need-Jesus Christ. Take time today to examine your old glove, I.e. your life, and the balls that come with it. Before they fray, or rip, or begin to unravel, let God into your life. Give Him your problems, and watch as you get to play more, and enjoy it more. Use the proper equipment, and watch as you can go into extra innings without getting tired-God says they shall walk and not get weary, run and not faint. Stay the kid in God's eye, let Him be your Father, and watch as your life changes.

Come to Christ as a child, He advises. Someday we will all become adults, but we don't have to grow up. It just takes a little faith, like believing what is inside that hard rubber inner ball. If anyone knows don't tell me, there are some things you just have to experience yourself.

Trust Jesus. He is a baseball fan. Even the Bible, in Genesis One starts, "in the big inning..."

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogpsot.com

one of a kind who still beats two pair

Red Wing, Minnesota. On the Mississippi River, on famed Highway 61, and just south of where Robert Zimmerman rose to fame as Bob Dylan. A neat, old, river town, and one on my list of small towns to live in-if it didn't have winter. While spending the night there, it rained. We had thunder storms for four hours, and as we watched the parking lot flood, the sirens went on. TORNADO warning sirens, which can be scary. And were. For there is really no place to hide from one, just ask Dorothy. Amen,Toto? But after the rains stopped, and the warning expired-fortunately no tornados, a group of bikers rode in. Seeing my bike they stopped over, and we talked. They were from Milwaukee, and turned us on to some great roads in Wisconsin. But while visiting, one guy wondered how we packed so little for such a long trip. He even mentioned his girl friend brought nine pairs of shoes, for their weekend trip. Trying not to appear as vain in his packing attempts, he joked about it. She was on her own bike, and came over a few minutes later. We started to chide her about her show obsession, and asked her "where do you pack all those shoes?"

"Well inside his shoes, of course." Out of the mouth of babes...

We all carry baggage, and some of us too much. Theresa used to work for neurosurgeons, who when diagnosing back pain told the patient "come back after losing 20 pounds, if the pain is still there." And how many of us know people with bad knees, only made worse by extra weight. I can attest to both as I felt much better in both areas after losing 40 pounds two years ago. But we all carry extra baggage.

I know a woman who once walked close to God, but after a bad divorce is bitter, and joined a secular woman's group of divorcees, hoping to minister to them, and now is really bitter, and spreading that bitterness towards men to her daughters. Things that start small can grow bigger, out of control, and soon they control us. How many of us have possessions, that over the years possess us? Have you noticed the trend in newer homes for huge walk in closets, some bigger than the small rooms they consider a third or fourth bedroom? And these things can stand between us and God. When asked how to inherit the kingdom of God, Jesus advised the rich man to sell all he had and give it to the poor. But he let his things keep him from heaven.

Jesus advised His disciples to carry very little as they travelled, and that is good advice for us still. Theresa and I when travelling buy new shirts, but mail the old dirty ones back. We also collect refrigerator magnets, cheap and easy to carry, as remembrances of our trips. And as I watch the other guests in motels we stay at, carry cart loads of baggage, when I stand there with two bags from my hard cases, you just have to know something is wrong. I hope it's not me!

Today may be a great time to reevaluate what is important to us. And what things control us, rather than us controlling them. Jesus said very simply "His yoke is easy, and His burden is light." Tired of carrying all the pressures of life, give them to Him. Hanging on to things that once had meaning, but are of no value-dump them on His shoulders. Let Him relieve you, and you will find that the desires of your heart change when not overwhelmed with life.

A lesson I hope my shoe obsessed biker friends learn-and soon. By the way, did I mention that Red Wing is the home of Red Wing shoes? And their factory is there, along with this cool factory store? And I wondered, if she bought another pair of shoes where she would be able to carry them?

Then I remembered her travelling partner. Shoes come in pairs-don't they? May your partner in life help bear your burdens, and may that someone be Jesus Christ.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the in-between times

I love being on the road. Waking up in a different place, then riding 50-100 miles and having breakfast. We have found it to be a practical practice-you avoid all the rush and waiting in lines, and miss all the families on vacation fighting with their kids, but also get to spend some time with God while riding, and widen your choices of which Diner, Drive In or Dive you get to eat at-sorry Guido. We have never been let down-almost like a sixth sense, but I find when spending time with God first, He always has a special place for us to eat. And even though it is later in the day, we skip lunch-more riding, and can take more back roads, and see more of the country. Plus in colder climates, there is something special about peeling off the jacket, then later the sweatshirt as the temp climbs. Very refreshing, and also allows for very short pit stops in some pretty areas.

And in the late afternoons, having ridden, stopped, visited, checked out, and checked in-we look for dinner. Same thing-sometimes researched, sometimes a reference from another biker, and sometimes just drawn by God. Note-if asking the motel clerk where a good place to eat-don't. They will usually send you to their coffee shop-bad choice. Ask "if you could go anywhere for dinner, where would it be?" Much different response, again very rarely let down. Been an El Cholo fan for years because of this.

We also find if not eating at dinner time, maybe 430pm or 630pm, we again miss all the traffic, miss the joy of waiting in line-no we don't want to sit at the bar and wait, and get a less stressed waitress, whose attitude reflects to the chef. Yes, they talk, and we have had the chef even come to our table after the proper kindnesses have been expressed. Sleep-ride-eat-ride-repeat.

But what about the in between times? When you are hungry, but can't find a place?

Life is like that. And I like John Fisher's All Day Song, which says "love Him in the morning when you see the sun a risin', love Him in the evening 'cause He took you through the day. And in the in-between time when you feel the pressures coming, remember that He loves you and He promises to stay-with you!" Like a cycle-we pray, then expect the answer-NOW! But what if the answer is wait? How long, for what? When? Didn't you get my urgent request God? Yet it is these times, that when we wait, the answer is most worthwhile. God isn't asleep, or waiting for parts-He is allowing you to spend more time with Him-remember we ride by faith, not by sight-Mike version, and we need to seek Him more. I have never been disappointed, but have actually learned to trust Him more. Recent example.

Changing our plans and only spending one night in Daytona, we went to the gulf coast of Florida-even made a reservation, so we could swim. Only to find out after battling Orlando traffic, avoid-and arriving in Port Richey, we found the closest beach is over 30 miles away. Bummed, we were given our money back by the motel-thanks guys, and ended up in Gainesville-inland and only 150 miles from where our 425 mile day started. But the next day, God took us to the coast on the panhandle-to some primitive beach areas, where the tourists don't go-but we certainly will next year. If Port Richey had had beaches, we never would have had the great meal in Apalachicola, and found these neat beaches. God's answer was a slight detour, a great night's sleep in Gainesville, and then showing us beaches that we were really looking for. Only God...

If you are in an in-between time right now-be patient. That perfect beach, financial answer, relationship dilemma, or whatever you asked God help for is being dealt with. We are His children, and He loved us so much He sent Jesus to die. If He was willing to do that, don't you think all the other minor things we ask Him for will be answered?

Yep, I love being on the road. And no matter which road you choose to travel, take God along for those in-between times. You will also find He knows great places to eat, ride, stay, and has memories yet to be shared awaiting you. It is in the in-between times we really get to know and trust Him.

Now I know this great diner about 100 miles away-hungry?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

full-but not filled

It was about 100 degrees out, with humidity to match, as we sat in the restaurant-Huey's Kingfisher, on the river in Savannah, Ga. But thanks to the miracle of AC, and tinted glass, we were comfortable, after drinking a pitcher of water. But watching while Coke and Bud trucks unloaded their drinks, and numerous tourists walked by jealously eyeing us, and as our waitress with a New York accent waited on us, and as I ordered Jambalaya, all from a seat overlooking the River District, I could have been anywhere, but I was here. And here was a good place to be. Especially the beignets-don't get between them and my wife! But I grinned as I thought to myself, how many tourists never see this side of life when travelling. They go on vacation, but never vacate. True, they may fly to their destination, but they never go anywhere, as they eat at Mickey D's, stay with tour groups, or travel the freeways. They miss America-and America is a great place to be-and see.

We all have comfort zones, and don't like to leave them. I have watched as customers order their food a special way, in a restaurant known for their specialty-only to have them comment later the food is the same at home. No it isn't-you are. Ask Theresa about the beignets! But yet we don't wish to try anything different, sometimes just because it is different. And we are the poorer for it.

Did you know you can travel over 1000 miles, in three states, and not see a Mickey D, or a Wal-Mart? And eat better! For less! And eat fresh fruit pies, or delicacies you may not try anywhere else? We did, as from Cheyenne, Wyoming to the middle of Minnesota. And lived to tell about it. Note-I will not diverge the route, as these chains may invade them-I don't wish that to be my fault.

Did you realize that diners in the northeast still serve platter sized breakfasts, for about $3.50 a meal? No super sizing or toys-just good food and plenty of it-for a fair price. BBQ pits in the south offer meals you can't finish for around $10! And if you order large-they mean LARGE! Be warned. But it takes a decision on your part to try something different, to be bold and daring. To not be captive to habit, or tradition, but to get out of the ordinary, and live!

If you never try, you will never fail. But in reality, you have failed already. And when sharing Christ so many have incorrect prejudices. Based on truth, then turned into propaganda. When threatened with church, they equate rules, regulations, suits and ties, boring sermons, Sunday mornings wasted, and I think you get the picture. True-and if you want all those things they are available. But why? Jesus promises freedom, and the truth. And the ability to enjoy yourself-blessings are what He calls them. Poured out-overflowing. But sadly, so many avoid Jesus because of these misconceptions, or are stuck in a church that is all these things, and thinks all churches are the same. WRONG!

I challenge you this Sunday to try a church that is alive. Talk to your friends, we all know at least one Christian, and ask them. And go prepared for a fresh truth, true love, and not a standardized text based on years of the same old thing. Jesus Christ adds life. Whether in Savannah, or Cheyenne, or LA, or wherever you are. The choices are there-freedom in Christ, or the same old religion. Your choice to make.

Beignets? Little pastries, fried, and then covered in powdered sugar. Don't like the name? Or the description? Try smiling with one in our mouth, or powdered sugar down the front of you! Jesus? Try saying that name without a smile on your face, from your heart.

Jesus Christ-bigger portions, more flavor, and more filling. All for the same price as a #1. Real food, for the soul. Prepared fresh, and served just for you.

If it were your last supper, where would you eat? Treat each day the same way-life is for the living! Now for desert, is it beignets in Savannah, chocolate ice box pie in Birmingham, or woopie pies in Two Lights? If you don't go you will never know. Try Jesus today!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

things that really matter

It is a well known saying that one picture is worth a thousand words. But also true, is that a few words, choice words, put together in the right order, can be worth a thousand pictures-in your memory. Visiting with my favorite aunt and uncle in Pennsylvania, while walking out to the bike, my aunt noted noted Billy Hicks' truck at his parents house next door. And the next thing I knew, a friend who I hadn't seen since junior high, or at least before we could drive, was telling me in a few short minutes about himself. I was amazed at how 40 years of life could be brought into just a few minutes, but it seems the important things that take so long can only show a glimpse of how important they were in a few moments. And how the more we talked, the more we wanted to know. He had just retired, 30 years a lieutenant in the New Jersey Correctional system, no kids, but was on his third marriage. But his closing words brought back memories, and made me think. He asked, "have you been out to the park? Did you notice how there are so many empty spaces by the pool? Remember when they were all filled up with blankets?" And for a few seconds, both of us went back to a special place in our lives.

So when leaving town, instead of just passing by the park, I pulled into the lot by the pool. The proper and only thing to do. And he was right, where I remembered the grassy areas by the pool covered with blankets and towels, most of it was empty-more green than white. And as I paused there for a few seconds, on this hot and humid afternoon, a young girl, about 15 years old passed by in her bathing suit. Wearing the look I see on so many people of all ages today, one of boredom mixed with despair, I wanted to stop her and tell her "this is the best time of your life. You are free from responsibility. This is the last summer of not having to work, to just be a kid. To enjoy life, and at your age, when girls are going from cooties to cuties, to enjoy every moment like Billy and I did that certain summer."

Getting to the pool after it opened, and giving the girls a chance to set out their towels first, then making our moves. Very few girls ever put their blanket down by me. Meeting new friends-being Steve's cousin from NJ had a certain mystique/mistake about it, and soon we were all in the pool, with girl partners for chicken fights, who only minutes before we were afraid to talk to, laughing and having fun-and summer couldn't get any better. Never realizing the girls had the same fears and reluctance that we had, and once we got over them, the fun you could have in a mixed group. Being a kid, enjoying your last summer as one, before being expected to act like an adult. And the whole time never knowing it. That's innocence.

And later after dinner with parents, would meet again at the snack bar, the same one where my parents met some 70 years ago, and listened to music before playing a round of miniature golf. Or a ride on the carousel-grabbing rings to throw into the clown's mouth. Showing off-it was expected, and was ok. Comparing our sunburns, as our pasty white skin had gotten fried that afternoon, because neither one wanted to stop the fun to be responsible enough to put on suntan lotion. Then as it got dark, pairing up with that first someone special, and wondering down by the bandstand, and getting our first kiss, and unaware, or so we thought, of all the others doing the same thing. Staying out until that late hour of 11pm, and wondering how time could fly by so fast when you were having so much fun. Wanting to be older so we could stay out, but somehow making quality instead of quantity in our time spent together more important. Each minute became a moment, with meaning. Taking advantage of a special place in time-a door of opportunity opened, but only for a short time. I wanted to tell her all this, this is your special summer, look up and do not despair-but when I looked up she was gone. And reality faced me, just what made me think that she would listen to this old guy on a bike, with his wife, anyway? Just a young girl, whose face I can't remember, but will never forget.

And I was reminded of another summer night, eight years later, in Venice, where a friend told me about Jesus, and when I let Him into my life how it changed everything. Devine interventions, we call them, and God has many planned for us. And I was reminded in Romans how it says that while we were yet sinners, Jesus died for us. Long before that special summer, He loved me, and had it all planned out. Now that's love.

If you happen to see Bill, tell him I said he is a good son, taking care of Harry and Shirley, both well into their nineties. But don't neglect your wife either. She is a special one God put into your life, and I pray that she is the one. And I even have an idea for both of you. Why don't you two set a date to meet at the pool, and arrive about 15 minutes late, and set up next to her. Talk about nothing, and play in the water, as carefree as we were 40 years ago. Late that afternoon, take her dinner at the DDB, and over burgers, fries, and Cokes, get to know each other, and fall in love again. Later go by the park, and as it gets dark, sneak off with the others to the benches by the bandstand-but then go home early-not because you have to, but because you want to. And let the romance that once existed be rekindled again. A great prescription for all, who have let life interfere with their plans, and relationships.

For these things work, I know. For 36 summers, I have let Jesus into my life, and He has blessed me abundantly. And starting my 33rd summer with my wife, I can tell you after 38 days, 31 states, and after 10,000 miles of riding together, the only thing better than being in love with the perfect mate, is having Jesus in the middle of that special relationship.

Don't put off that special summer again. Enjoy the magic it has to bring to you and that special someone now. Jesus, Theresa, and our marriage-it just don't get any better. And for those 38 days of this summer with her-I will always be thankful. Theses are the good old days.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com