The only reason I can think of for always wanting to be 12 was so I could get into the James Bond movies. The nasty, older-16-girl behind the ticket window would always ask your age, and if you didn't look it, wouldn't let you in. But when I finally got to be 12, with it, brought a change in my economics, for the 50 cent ticket now went up to 75 cents, and brought about early fiscal turmoil as I had to readied how to spend the dollar my mother gave me to go. I needed more income to finance my new, lucrative lifestyle, so I did what a lot of other kids my age did, I sought work through YES-Youth Employment Service, and cut yards, making $4 a week-not bad when you are 12. And my first contact with networking. I just didn't know it.
My friend Bill also signed up, and this is where he met Mr. Eysmann. Bill cut his yard. Mr. Eysmann was a very rich man, who was a true entrepreneur. Having only a daughter, Allison, Bill soon became the son Mr. Eysmann never had-and I'm sure taught him lessons he wished he didn't have to learn. I saw the personal, hand written check for $4 million dollars he wrote to buy Polychrome, where he got Bill and I jobs. When Bill got arrested for wheelying in front of Bambergers, and landing his front wheel on the trunk of a police car, it was Mr. Eysmann that got all charges dropped. It was Mr. Eysmann, who when two weeks into the fall semester, we decided to attend Rutgers and all classes were closed, who got us into all the classes we wanted, and paid for them. He also saw to it that Bill was given a proper head start, and set him up with a loan to buy Mrs. Eysmann's 1967 baby blue with white interior Cadillac convertible. And placed $1000 in an account there for him, in a bank he owned.
Mr. Eysmann had but one child, Allison, who was Daddy's little girl. A 10 from the neck down, she balanced out to a 4 from the neck up. Always overdressed, and at first obnoxious to Bill-they acted like brother and sister-she and I got to be friends. For all her sophistication, she was quite naive-I'm sure the way her dad wanted, and when I decided to move west in November of 75, she asked me to visit her at Wellesley, to say good bye.
Wellesley was an all girls college then, and a visitor, particularly a male had to be screened, just to get on campus-let alone in the dorm. But Allison made the proper arrangements, and I was allowed to stay in a guest room, far secluded from female contact, and properly chaperoned by her resident assistant the whole time. She had told me she would buy me dinner, and I envisioned a steak after riding all day in the cold, but was restricted to anything I wanted in the cafeteria, food wise that is. Which was interesting-here I am the only male, shoulder length hair, leather jacket, and on a motorcycle-quite the opposite to the Harvard boys who were being shipped in that Saturday night for a mixer. A dream, as the co-eds had only me to flirt with, and did. I was like a prize to Allison, who watched, and when it got to adventurous-to her, would remind them that I was with her-for the weekend. Sorry ladies, but to these secluded young women, I was an outlaw-Harvard lads didn't ride, I was Brando and McQueen on my bike, and James Dean in my leather-a rebel with a cause and not in a blue blazer with a crest-hairdo by helmet, and the only game in town, at least at dinner, but chaperoned by Allison, and her RA. A cool no preppie could ever dream about-"Dad, how come that biker in the leather jacket and long hair is getting all the girls." With the agreement to leave early enough so they could get ready the next day for the Harvard lads.
Now I had no physical interest in Allison, I know Bill did, and the fact that he couldn't do anything because of Mr. Eysmann used to drive him nuts. But to me she was a Jewish princess, secluded from the world, and who knows what I was-all I could attest to was being a Christian for less than 90 days, and not sure what that meant either. And Allison and I had talked about Jesus openly, in fact that was most of our conversations-this wonderful thing had happened to my life, and she saw I wasn't like Bill anymore-although I think she secretly had the hots for him-another true bad boy crush. But that night in the guest room, with chaperone along, I shared Jesus with them. Long after lights out, the RA had some authority back then, and for one of the first times cared more about the woman I was visiting than anything sexual. I don't know where Allison is today with Jesus, but I know there was some heavy seeding going on that night-as this 90 day old Christian biker evangelist was sharing his heart, and what was in it. Except the what was really a who.
I don't know the scripture, I think it is in Romans, but it says that what is in your heart, comes from your mouth. My interpretation, but accurate. And that night my heart was on Jesus. And at an early stage in my walk, learned to trust Him for words, and that He would give them to me. I wasn't in church, but I was in the word-and that made all the difference. I was leaning/trusting Him, and not even realizing it. Truly God takes care of those He calls His own.
Today you may be like the Black Sheep-ministering to a group of unsaved HOG members, who have work, a home, and many bikes-why would they need God? You may be ministering to a man who sinned-and can't forgive himself, and wonder why he doesn't get it. You may be facing a situation that unless God intervenes is hopeless-and guess what-He is right there with you! You are not alone, and He has provided a way out-and also the right words for you. It was no coincidence me being at Wellesley that night, I was the means that God used to evangelize that night. And it is no coincidence who you will encounter today-God orders your steps, and a divine encounter is just around the corner-maybe right now! Trust Him, and if His words come from your mouth, thank him for a changed heart.
And if you happen to be on the receiving end, thank Him, too. Your room, your cell, your buddy seat is never empty as long as you let Jesus into your life. Even in a woman's dorm. And to all you Harvard lads who would do anything to spend a night in the girls dorm at Wellesley, let me tell you something. I did! I was even invited back! And it was better than anything you could imagine! Eat your hearts out! And it's nothing a gentleman would share with others. But if you really want to know-all I can say is you wouldn't believe it. Better than I could have imagined! Maybe if you ask, I 'll tell you sometime. But I warn you-it's not what you think. Might even change you heart. Consider your heart. And when done, give them to Jesus. From what I see, you guys need Him too. And maybe a leather jacket and motorcycle wouldn't hurt either!
Let "for God so love the world, He gave His only son" into your life today. And watch where it takes you! It took me to Wellesley-who knows where it can take you. You know, I never did hear how that mixer with the Harvard lads went.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com