suddenly it's...time to trust God

Tuesday while swapping bikes with Mickey, I wondered into the car collector shop next door. Now I love old cars, and have been reading about them and going to car shows for almost 40 years. My library is intense. But without knowing it, the owner had me at a disadvantage talking about cars. He was showing me his two Chrysler products, a 1955 300 and an Imperial. And for once, I listened intently to what he was saying, because for whatever reason, I have never owned a Chrysler, or any of its products. As cars they have never done anything for me, or to me. Growing up Lenny's mom had a mid-fifties De Soto, pink, black, and white with the shift lever sticking out of the dash-how uncool. Joey's dad a 1961 Seneca, the year they put the fins on backward-ugly, and who can forget looking into your friends shoulder as they put the rear view mirror on the dash. And the asymmetrical front seats. Maybe it was the old "Chrysler crank," remember that horrible noise their starters made? For any of the above, or some reason unknown to me-Chryslers, Dodges, the now deceased Plymouths, and the long gone DeSotos never made an impact on me.

And outside of Nippy, and his Dart with the slant six, no friends had Chryslers either. Can't even remember a single friend, who during the super car era owned one. SS396's were a dime a dozen. As were Camaros. Mustangs were everywhere. Big V-8 Chevies and Pontiacs, you could tell the car by the way it sounded. But never, for whatever reason, Chryslers. And they made some great cars, I'm told.

Hemis-a car built around a legend and an engine. And today they hope the legendary name will bring them new business as they call their hi-performance engine a Hemi-although it really has wedge shaped heads. But you can say you own a Hemi, even if no one knows what it is, or really isn't. But for some reason, the history intrigues me more than the car, but not enough to have any books about their products in my library. Great names have been associated with the company. The Dodge Brothers. Owens, Breder, and Skelton, great engineers into the thirties. From styling in the fifties so staid a gentleman could still wear his hat, to a few years later bragging "suddenly it's 1960..." in 1957, even the styling left me cold. Third place in a two man race. Richard Petty won in them, then switched to Pontiac. Remember Lee Iacocca selling the miserable K-cars? The first minivan, right again, in 1984 was a Chrysler product. The so-called great government bailout-Chrysler again. They bought the vestiges of American Motors to get Jeep, and then were raped by Daimler Benz, and sold at fire sale prices, it seems the company is more famous than the cars. And in a world known for product, maybe that is why. And the closest I ever came to owning one is before they bought Jeep and I sold them. 12 years before. And for some reason, it bothers me that I have no interest in them. So while listening to this man speak, his cars were nice, but the 1957 Mercury Turnpike Cruiser interested me more, he spoke of the cars lovingly. And for a few seconds, I was interested. But being within 20 feet of all the motorcycles at Mick's, I lost interest fast. Leaving me with one question, why was this guy so passionate about Chryslers? And I wasn't?

Have you ever tried to go out witnessing, and blew it? For one thing, I am amazed you can flip a switch to go witnessing, since we are called to be witnesses. How do you turn off/on Jesus And how some study the right words, to have the right answers, only to find the questions are different. Was it wrong answers, or wrong questions? And talking with Pastor Scott we were joking about the lengths people go to to share Jesus. The Four Spiritual Laws, for instance. I don't know them, and my answer is always don't the law and the spirit come into conflict? Which has never failed to cheese off whoever was asking me. I don't know where the Roman's Road is. Italy? And I have been a lot of places. What would Jesus do? Christian, you have to ask? And last night an old friend told me that I should use my sales training to evangelize more. Talk people into Jesus. I guess he meant well-I hope. And somehow, like my lack of interest in Mopars, they don't get it. Jesus told His disciples that the holy spirit will give you words when you need them. And since the holy spirit guides us into all truth, and points people to Jesus, who actually saves them, all the other training is a waste of time to me. Trust God! He doesn't need you, but wants you to stand by in readiness so He can use you , and you can be blessed. Were you saved by clever words or misleading advertising? Did Jesus run an introductory special the day you got saved? Were you offered a rebate if you get saved now? Or did you think that you were a Christian just because you joined a church, or filled a pew?

Trust God. He is the only one you can trust. He sought you long before you ever thought about Him. He is the one who gave and gives you passion for Christ. And in a simple 25 word statement, John 3:16, gives you the meaning of life. Then it is your decision. Based in the heart, and confessed with the mouth. It's all about Jesus!

Maybe it's because DODGE stands for Drips Oil, Drips Grease Everywhere, when BIBLE stands for Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth. But truly it is about a passion, and about a man who put it into my heart, and then my life. It is all about Jesus. And to me, anything else is just another car.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

Honda-they still make motorcycles, don't they?

Legend has it that a Mr. Rip Van Winkle of Sleepy Hollow, NY fell asleep one afternoon, and awoke 20 years later. Confusing thunder for some guys bowling league, he awoke to a much different world than he fell asleep in. I may have gotten a glimpse into the past and to what he awoke to yesterday. While at ECC having a new tire put on the Bonneville, Herm, the service manager showed me a crashed Gold Wing he was almost done repairing. Now that all the parts had finally arrived, he was able to replace the air bag-yes air bag, and now that he had all the components, from the four sensors in the forks to the control unit, wiring harness, and air bag replaced, the radio didn't work. Now Herm has been fixing Hondas since they were just a motorcycle company, and I'll bet he never imagined on his first day back then ever replacing air bags or fixing radios-on motorcycles. But that was the dilemma keeping the customer from riding that afternoon. And just like the Honda commercial says, "I wanna ride, I wanna ride..." but my radio is broke.

So while Herm pondered his next move, I cruised the showroom. And looked at the new Gold Wings, 2010s as the new ones weren't available yet. $28,000 for a new bike with the air bags. And as I wondered if I was looking at a Honda car or motorcycle, I realized they had much in common. And that a Civic with sound systems, ABS, cruise, Air Bags, and trailer towing-like the Gold Wing has, still offered air conditioning, heater, and no need for a trailer, it has a hatchback, gets better mpg and is $10,000 less! And I wondered how long I had been asleep! And as I thought more, seeing all the Wings I do pulling trailers, pin striped, and decked out in chrome via the Kuryakin catalog, these motorcycles were out the door at over $40,000! And doing some quick math-while keeping my shoes on, discovered that for only $35,000 I could have a new Mustang 302, with all the above, and over 420 hp! As fast as a Gold Wing, and probably more fun based on acceleration alone. And all I could figure is guys like Herm, me, and others like us had fallen asleep and then were awoken to another time. A time where motorcycles were more expensive as cars, just as complicated, and not quite as much fun. The fun being the defining criteria, as I remember they used to be fun. And when I look at my garage, I don't have $35,000 invested in all my bikes, also no ABS, no radios, no air bags, and I wonder-am I asleep or in a dream? Either way, don't wake me up until it's over.

Maybe that is why I keep my motorcycles and my God simple. Too many programs taking the place of Bible studies at some churches. Too much of this and that classes, but not enough of the gospel. Seems we all know someone, or are someone who knows more Bible than Billy Graham, yet still haven't become familiar enough with the author to call Him by His first name. God wants us to call Him Dad, Abba. And so we fall asleep, and don't realize it, continuing to rack up seat time-in church or on bikes, not knowing we are almost comatose to the spirit. A wealth of knowledge, all the illusions, but without love. Missing both the simplicity of the gospel, and of a great motorcycle ride because of too many "things." And rather than looking ahead, we only look back to the first time we got saved, and how exciting it was. And still wish we could have the first euphoria of the wind in our face as we did on our first ride. Before religion replaced Jesus, and programs replaced people.

Twenty years passed very quickly for old Rip. He hardly knew it until he awoke, and found out the world had changed and he hadn't. If you haven't changed, and you think Jesus has, wake up! It is us who needs to change, and get back to the basics-the gospels. Pick up your Bible, put down your i-pad, and spend some time with God. While waiting for it to charge, pick up the book, and turn the pages. And go back to before you fell asleep. And find that Jesus is just as fresh today as He was way back then. And that air bags, don't belong in churches or on motorcycles. Learn to ride and enjoy the trip. Get to know Jesus and enjoy life!

All this technology has not made a better rider, and so many books and tapes don't necessarily make you a better Christian. And that is maybe why Rip slept for 20 years. He had no reason to wake up. Don't make the same mistake. Technology may have changed, but it still takes more than two wheels and a set of handlebars to make a motorcycle. Until you add the motor, the heart of the motorcycle, you may only have a wheelbarrow! Dump religion, and take on Jesus. Rest time is over. No more napping! Your new day has begun, enjoy the ride!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

sin and alcatraz-only one you can escape

Years ago my family and I toured Alcatraz. If you took the tour of the bay, you actually paid less and got the prison tour included than if you just went to Alcatraz. Perhaps the only deal to be had in a city where it is over $6/hour to park, if you can find a space. But the tour of the prison was much more than we had expected. Instead of clean white cells like shown on old Warner Bros. movies, it was paint peeling, water leaking, and falling down. After the place was shut down in 1963 it fell quickly into disrepair, and after the Indians held it captive in the seventies, no one felt that it should be rebuilt, and by letting it fall down was even cheaper than tearing it down. And when it became a national landmark in the seventies, it still was not restored, but left in its eerie mystique. Besides, when it really gets unsafe, just close it down. And be stuck with only the tour of the bay. Still more than the inmates got.

If you are left with only one impression of Alcatraz, it is one of isolation. True, it's an island, and true there is no other reason than the prison to go there, but you are isolated in, and from the world. And to really get the full effect, you are allowed to go down into the isolation cells. Horrible rooms, less then four feet wide, with no light, where you were thrown naked, with only a pot to go in, and with no protection from the cold. Dark and wet, with only the breezes from the bay for company. And at night, the wind was said to carry the sounds of night life the mile and a half from San Francisco, and have a tortuous effect psychologically on the man in the hole. Isolation from life, and all it has to offer. No way out past the double doors. All the comforts of home with no comforts.

But isolation works both ways. And for a place named after pelicans, you would think of it in terms of being free. But although you could be in isolation from the others, they were also isolated from you. Protected from each other, sort of speak. Like my new riding boots, they don't let the rain and cold in, but don't let the heat out either. Isolated, yet insulated from the world, and what is going on out there. A door that could swing both ways, but swings neither. Also isolated from the truth. And if you watch the Birdman of Alcatraz with Burt Lancaster, you could almost feel bad for old Robert Stroud, until you find out the truth about him was not quite the story told in the movie. He was a unrepentant child molester, who used to throw feces at the guards. Not quite Burt in the film. But sadly, Hollywood seldom has regard for the truth, and being isolated from the truth can have eternal ramifications. Deadlier than the for the ones in isolation in prison.

Fortunately God is truth. But because of sin, we are isolated from Him. We cannot get to Him unless it is through His grace in the form of a person, Jesus Christ. Sin separates us from life, as the view from Alcatraz illustrates, but also from God. And He is patient with us, that no form of prison we are in, will He let separate us from Him. Walls and bars cannot hold back the spirit of God. And for those who believe, Jesus is a welcome pardon from sin, and death. But to those who have not yet repented, He stands ready when you call. Ready to pardon you from all sin, and welcome you into his eternal arms, and the peace that surpasses all understanding. And sadly without Jesus, we are in a form of isolation, where we cannot get to God, but He can get to us. That is why knowing Jesus is the most important decision you will ever make. And that without Him,the spiritual prison walls we live behind will never be broken. Walls without bars, a spiritual prison with only Jesus knocking at the door, wanting to come into your life, so He can give you life. Truly a life sentence if you would. But also being fully pardoned from your sin. No longer isolated from God, but now insulated by Him.

Between Alcatraz and the city was a 1.5 mile watery chasm that separated freedom from prison. And no one escaped it. Just as no one escapes hell without Jesus. Consider that now. Do I really want to go to hell? God sends no one, if you do it is because you rejected Jesus and His gift of heaven. God is offering you a complete pardon from sin and death right now. No parole or even probation. But a total pardon where when the books of your life are opened in heaven your sin is never mentioned. Like it has never happened. Your choice. Isolated from Jesus, or isolated from sin? The choice is yours.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

from the people who gave us fine Corinthian leather-and disco

If memories are the remembrance of past occurrences, what do you call the things that happened but you don't remember? Or won't? Faded memories, or selective non-recall? Or the two words OJ's maid made famous, "no recuerdo." Fortunately, or un, as the case may be, we have a lot of no recuerdo in our pasts. And recently reading some old car magazines that were new once, I remembered. See if you do too.

Where have all the Chevettes gone? The car that Car and Driver called the "most important car Detroit has ever built," they built 100's of thousands of them. Mary Ann Sears had one, and when we rode in it together we were shoulder to shoulder, never did see anyone in the back seat. When is the last time you saw one? Pintos, Ford built 1.2 million of them the first three years, have you seen one lately? Remember the Vega, which gave proof to the scientific equation that oil and water don't mix, especially when leaking from head gaskets trying to seal iron and aluminum. Ford sold over one million Granadas, they were so Mercedes Benz like. Have you seen one lately, the Granada that is? How about Plymouth Crickets, an unholy alliance with the British, and forced upon Chrysler franchisees. The Austin Marina? FIATs, never Fiats. Capital letters that stood for Fix It Again, Tony. Opel Mantas, great cars, my friend Cooper had one, but sold through Buick dealers, and usually never found in their showrooms. Only stuck in a corner by the office supplies. In an age when any car with a wheelbase shorter than 110" was a compact-compare that today with the same wheelbase being a midsize, they created sub-compacts and their market overnight. And they were sub in many ways, and compact in more ways than size. Maybe that is why we don't remember them, as they were to cars what aluminum cans were to Coke-disposable. No one recycled then. No deposit, so they never returned.

And how about the onslaught of Japanese cars? Cars that prior to OPEC would only sell in Tokyo by proxy, you needed to prove you had a parking spot before you could buy one. Cars so small, tinny, and impersonal, they made you remember your toothbrush with more romance. Truly unforgettable machines, that took no therapy or drugs to forget. Gone and forgotten. But yet, we forget it was the fuel crisis, not the demand for better cars, that brought us all these forgettable machines. When you asked "what do you have under the hood?" was replaced with "how many mpg do you get," the romance had started to fade-very quickly. Even faster than their mediocre 0-60 times, which now were 0-50 because of the 55 mph speed limit. Cars that had more in common with golf carts than go karts, and we all rushed to get one. But couldn't wait to abandon them and get back to the real thing when the scare was over. For there are girls you take home to mother, and the other kind of girls-these cars never met anyones mother! And who do we have to thank for all these thankless cars?

Not the manufacturers, small cars meant small profits. But the US of A government. Once again here to help. Mandating 55mph speed limits, and instituting mpg laws-CAFE, the government did to cars what the Volstead Act did for gin-made them illegal. Trying to legislate morals, they only made the problem worse, and allowed criminals to flourish, except the automotive criminals did time on the street, in their underpowered, unromantic, and now forgotten cars. Can youimageine Bonnie and Clyde in Pinto? In a time when the battle was against oil and grease, we made it a battle between flesh and blood, and we continue to pay the price today. No one thought to pray or ask God then what to do, and I still see the remnants of that today. For our battle is still not against flesh and blood, but against evil, and is carried out on a spiritual level, only the battles are fought locally. Flesh and blood just happen to be the wrong battles we choose to fight in.

The Bible calls these law makers evil rulers of darkness, and don't realize that if you are not under the power of Christ, you fall under their power. Just one look at the headlines on crime, abortion, murder, bailouts, and other assorted crimes, reminds us that Satan is still the ruler of the world. But God is still under control. So rejoice, for Satan's end is coming soon, and who you align with, God or the devil, will tell us if you won or lost. For like the above cars that no one remembers, God will not remember you either if you deny Him. Simply put, He tells us if you do not represent Him on earth, He will not represent you in heaven. And we all face a judgment day after we die, it is important to know the only one who can save you-Jesus Christ!

Today is the day of salvation, and the time to get real with God. Or be abandoned to the scrap heap of life like the cars of the 70's. Cars no one has collected, or even wants to remember, for they represent a time in our lives when freedom was taken from us, and laws replaced it. Like ants at a picnic, they are only remembered for what they did, and more fondly remembered by not being remembered at all. Don't let your life end up like that. God promises life abundantly, but you must choose to take it. No CAFE laws, speed limits, or gas shortages. No Chevettes or four wheeled vehicles disguised as cars. Walking in His spirit guides you into all truth, and you can see the way through the situation, because of what lies ahead for us-and gives us a true hope and a future.

Put on the full armor of God, for He has made provisions for the battles to come. And will take us victoriously through them! And watch as true freedom becomes your true life, as the world's forces loosen their grip on your lives. Let the spirit do what no law could ever do-give you a hope and a future, with precious memories to go with it. America called it the "Spirit of '76!" We call it the Spirit of God!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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Lord, he was born a Ramblin' man

When my Grandma started driving again in the early sixties, she bought a used, pink 1955 Rambler American station wagon. From Ronco Rambler Motors, and Pat Ronco, sales manager, janitor, service manager, racer, and the owner. And when she bought her successive Ramblers, a blue 1962 American 2-door, and finally a 1969 Rambler Rogue, she went to Pat, and Pat knew what she needed, and would say "this is the car you are looking for, Mrs. Mohn" and without pushing it on her, he was right. For my Grandma had confidence in Pat. And pat knew his customers. When the car wouldn't start early on Sunday morning in knee deep snow, Pat would come and take care of it. And even when he was into his seventies, he would still respond to my Grandma's roadside request, and other's like hers. To her, he was American Motors. And even though the tag on her car said made in Kenosha, the relationship with the factory began and ended with Pat, he was the factory to her.

My parents bought three cars from Pat, and I can remember going with them on Saturday mornings. An old brick facade, painted silver with red plastic letters, the highlight for me was the shop. The back shop to be precise, and walking past the huge, sliding doors, the smell of old oil, gas, rubber would fill the air, an ambrosia to those of us who liked cars. You see Pat was a jalopy racer, and R-12, his race team, was where the jalopies he raced at Nazareth were kept. Silver and red, like the building, Pat was the factory to Grandma, but was racing to me. He always seemed to be coming from that back room with R-12, and I don't remember ever seeing him not in overalls and with an unlit cigar in his mouth. Somehow behind the overalls and cigars, this man was Rambler. A Ramblin' man if you will.

Just down the road a mile, was O E Labar Hudson. A working Hudson dealer,who never turned in his franchise when Hudson joined Nash in 1954 to become American Motors. He had new parts still on the shelves, and ads in the showroom about the new Hudsons. Serviced his customers like Pat did, and even kept cars on the floor, which he was glad to show me after he found out how much I loved Hudson, too, and wasn't just some kid wasting his time. It wasn't my fault American Motors was formed the day I was born in 1954. "This was Mrs. Roth's car," he would say, "she traded it on a new 1953, that had belonged to Mr. Reimer, who sold it because his wife wanted a convertible," and that was how all his cars were referred to by their previous owners. No units or stock numbers, for his customers, and their cars, were real people to Pat and O E, whoever he may be. From date of purchase, through no start in snow storms until the time to trade up, and then onto its new owners, they were precious customers, and treated with respect. Both dealerships a true anachronism, dealerships that should have died in fifties, but still were alive, on life support, into the seventies. From the factory parts, to the two rare 1947 Hudson pickups he used to haul coal and car parts, to the cars on the floor, he was a Hudson dealer, even if Hudson had died 20 years earlier. Personal service, on a Mr. and Mrs. basis. Signs of a simpler time, a living museum to both Hudson, Nash, and Rambler until both men died, and with them their businesses. Along with a whole generation who were used to service like Pat's. Sadly, no one left to take their place in the communities they served faithfully for so many years. No more deals made on a handshake, or free jump starts in the snow, and only the memories of past super service to share with others.

We are told to trust God, and not lean on our own understanding. A great example found in Pat. I can't tell you about him and God, but his honest attitude to my Grandma and his customers, allowed them to trust him, and stay his customer for life. No way would she ever have bought any other car except a Rambler, and only from him. Their relationship was built on trust, she knew Pat would always give her the right advice. And I find today, that to walk strong with Christ, to call yourself a Christian, takes the same kind of trust. The trust that when you get bad news, that the same God who made the body will heal it. That he knows you when you're sleeping, and awake, and doesn't care who may be coming to town. His love is real, and He wants to be your God for life, and forever. I could never imagine my Grandma questioning Pat's judgment with her Ramblers, but yet we quarrel with God when we don't get our way. "Wait," He'll tell us when we ask, but in our impatience we fret, and only after we disobey see why He said it. "No, my son," gets greeted with a why from us, which really means "don't you get it God?" When really all we need to do is trust God, trust His word, trust the Spirit, and lean on Jesus. For like Pat, He doesn't want to lose you as a customer, and sad many have turned away when they don't get their way. And end up with a lesser god, at an impersonal church or religion, and never enjoy the love and blessings God has for them.

I have heard God is always there when I need Him, and can vouch for that. But will go on to say He is even there when I don't realize I need Him. Closer than even a prayer, He is 24 hour life service, never late, always on time, and always has the right parts and tools to fix my problems. Remember that next time money is tight, or health issues invade, or when your marriage is suffering. He is there for you! Take His advice, for Godly advice only works when taken. And be a frequent visitor to His dealership. Stop by parts, look at the new models, and go to the back of the shop with Him. Behind every old facade once beat the heart of a dealer like Pat. Don't let the facade of the world change your attitude about God. He was there in the beginning, and will be around long after the end. Stay close to Him, He has stayed close to you.

My Grandma always trusted Pat with car problems. Isn't it nice to know that God cares about all our problems?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

blue highways-you're welcome

For years I have been telling people about our travels across the US of A by taking the old back roads, Blue Highways, William Least Heat Moon calls them in his travel diary of the same name. Roads not usually taken anymore since the Interstate Highway System has by-passed many of them. Roads that take you to places the freeways can't or won't, and with each little town you pass through a memory just awaiting you, if you have the right attitude and the time. Places that are referred to as before the four laner went in, or By-Pass, or local traffic only. Roads that take you past buildings like Bate's Motel, and you wonder, naw, that was just a movie, wasn't it? Or places where only local old pickups are in the gravel lot, and you wonder if their Home Cooking sign really means it. Is that really bacon and coffee I still smell at lunch time? Places where the sun and rain has weathered the signs so bad they are almost unreadable, but just follow the grooves in the road to tell you that you are heading the right way. A ride in a time and place where neither matters, where each turn takes you to new experiences, and new people. Little towns where the local drive-in thrives despite the new Burger King next door. Where Chubby Chucks outsell Whoppers, and always will. Where Friday nights, the DQ is still open late for those who need a Blizzard before bed, after a late football game. Where teens still cruise the lots, trying to look cool. While the girls pretend not to notice, and giggle. Places that don't show up in any government demographics, almost as if they and the people don't exist to a bureaucracy. Except at tax time, and when it comes time for elections. Where the proper answer to thank you is "you're welcome," and not "no problem." And you wonder why I wander away from the freeways?

Since we have abandoned much of our history of manufacturing, and become a service oriented society here, service has taken on new meaning. Leaving messages that may not get returned, or being put on hold when you call the emergency number listed, are foreign to many of these areas. It is not unusual to see lights on in many old service stations well after closing, and hear the air tools and the sound of repairs still going on. Maybe helping a neighbor get ready for their trip tomorrow when something broke at the last minute, which is when they usually occur, or helping some stranger, out of luck and money, just get back on the road, that much closer to their destination. Places where Frank at the Bi-Low will refer you to his friend, then call him to tell them you are coming out, even though they are closed, just to get gas. And finding Willy, his friend greeting you, and staying to talk, then calling his friend at the motel, to get you a special rate on a room, since it is too late to ride any further. America we used to call it, and before we pushed buttons and got a recording when the phone was answered, before GPS systems got us lost, and before we became too sophisticated to smile at strangers, this is how we lived. And how I still choose to live-home or away.

We were in Santa Barbara, with Brett and Jeff from Vegas, and Tom and Karin from San Diego. Our friends Milt and Jackie had ridden with us for awhile before their V Max seat threatened to cripple them, and had turned around in Coulterville, on the way to San Francisco. It was Memorial Day weekend, and we were getting into our motel in Santa Barbara way late. So when I phoned ahead, I was told no problem, I'll leave your keys under the mat. We'll settle up in the morning. And left the hot tub on for us!

The next morning Brett noticed the master link on his Ninja was missing. With no shops open on this holiday Monday, he was about to go into panic, when I decided to talk to the owner of the motel. He and his father in law were finishing some carpentry work, and stopped to call to see if anyone was around. No luck. Then he suggested, "I have a friend with a welder at a body shop. How about I call him and see if he can tack weld the link and you won't have any problem?" Which he did, and which he did, and which we were all thankful for. And the welder friend wouldn't even take any money. He was glad to help, and all involved told us to stop by next time in town. Can any billboard or ad ever be more effective than friends helping friends? Word of mouth...

When we are taught about the Good Samaritan, I always think of these guys. New friend or old, it didn't matter. There was a need, and they met it. Gladly, sacrificing time, and money to get the need met. And the pay, knowing they did a job and did it well. More talk for around the dinner table that night, and new friends they didn't have yesterday at this time. If you see a need today, meet it. God would not have let this person in your life if He didn't want you to help. Be a good American, no, be a good Christian and show love to strangers. Be a friend to a stranger, for we were once all strangers to God, until Jesus showed the way. Do unto other, as you wish them to do to you. When the phone rings, pick it up. And like the two truckers in Ohio assured us, we'll "git 'er done."

Jesus got 'er done on the cross. Is it too much to ask to extend that love to a stranger? Among the many franchises out there today, I don't see one on love. Start one. Small investment, with big rewards. Oh, you may never get rich, but that will also save you on taxes! But you will never be short of friends.

Give thanks to Jesus, and wait to hear His proper answer. You're welcome, my good and faithful friend. Welcomed by Jesus, any problem with that?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

it's spring-only six more months til summer

Although the calendar says spring, seems the weather hasn't caught up to it yet. And even here in So Cal, the weather has been chilly, in the 40's at night, and only low 60's during the day. And it seems our cars know it too, as they take longer to start and warm up. Today when you go to start your computer controlled fuel injected car, you turn the key, wait up until seven seconds, think one Mississippi, two Mississippi, etc, which can seem like forever and then the car starts. And while waiting for your seat warmers to warm your tushie, you can finish shaving, put on your make-up, or make that important gossip call, while driving away and your car warming up. But life has not always been so tough, it used to be tougher.

Before computers, we had carburetors. If you are old enough to vote, plus 15 years, you may know the old procedure. Fumble with keys with gloves on, kick the accelerator twice to set the "automatic choke," turn the key until it starts, then sit and shiver while the idle races high and the car warms up. Don't even try driving away, as all the bucking and shaking would make even drinking that last cup of coffee-we weren't latte addicts yet, impossible to do without spilling. And on the rare occasions when it didn't start right away, give it more gas and hope you didn't flood the engine and it wouldn't start. A strong smell of fresh gas was a dead give away you wouldn't be starting immediately. Then you sat, getting mad, but warming up because of it, car still not running. Again.

The first car I owned was a 1969 BMW 1600, with a manual choke. You pulled out the knob to activate it, then turned the key and it would start. Only in extreme cold did you give it gas, and then monitored the idle by adjusting the choke. In many cases after a few seconds you could drive away, with the idle roaring high,but the car running smooth because of all the gas you were pouring into the carburetor, and what didn't burn went down the cylinder walls. Washing away the thin film of oil that was between you and a new engine. But you were moving, and didn't think about that, or the consequences. You were on your way, and if you were going more than 20 minutes, your car would be warmed up by the time you got there. And would repeat the procedure at the end of the day when the sun had gone down, and it was cold again. Perhaps, looking back progress wasn't such a good thing, but somehow it has just gone on too long.

No matter the situation, our lives run the same way. Hot or cold, we react to input, and our reactions sometimes are more important than our actions. And dictate our next action. God has given us His spirit, think of it as a personal computer available to guide us through all situations. But just like cars of old, and new, it all is up to us via the gas pedal. The throttle, which controls how fast and where we go. But He leaves it up to us to use the throttle, hopefully correctly. And His spirit is definitely the way to go. We don't know what is going on sometimes, and definitely not what is ahead. God does. So let His spirit, the Holy Spirit guide you. No more automatic chokes not working, aka your own understanding, and causing you other problems. No more manual chokes, where you have to make all the adjustments, and decisions. You can rely on God, and when you add throttle based on His input, you will have a smoother ride. Not necessarily a smooth ride, but a more controlled ride. For He knows the road, and where the potholes of life are. Where dead ends and detours will lead. And how best to avoid or get through them. He knows all the things you need, and makes them available to you, but the decision is yours. Once given the advice, it is up to you. For like your throttle, it depends on you for input. And how much throttle you are giving it. And Godly advice only works under one condition-you apply it!

Start your day by spending time with the Lord. Even while waiting for your car to warm up, listen for Him. Then listen to Him. God offers this free driving tip at no charge or obligation to those who ask. Think of Him as AAA for the soul-He was a trinity long before the three A's came on the scene. And can be accessed at any time, in any situation, with no member number, or card. Just you and Jesus.

You see, although the calendar says spring, the weather says winter. Don't rely on your own understanding, trust God. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct your paths. Now where have you heard that before? What a great saying, can't believe some advertiser hasn't picked up on it!

Proverbs 3:5. Found in the owner's manual for life. You may now start your car. You did remember to turn off the lights last night, didn't you?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

doubting the truth doesn't change it

We had just finished dinner at our friend's house, when we were offered a tour of his neighbor's house. To say it was large is an overstatement, perhaps a testimony to poor taste, bad planning, and overextension of finances would be a more accurate statement. The owners, obviously feeding an ego that was short on restraint, had built this gigantic building, the bedroom alone was over 2800 square feet. An Olympic size pool, and with enough garages to service cars at a dealership. It was obviously built with no plans except to be large and intrusive-and with no sense of style or design. Not even one room was near completion, it had all the warmth of a before picture, or an in process one, but unfortunately this house was done. In more ways than one. Impressed only by its sheer size and poor taste, he took us to the garage. Where he proceeded to show his helicopter, in the same shape of the house-incomplete, and various cars in the same condition. And the only vehicle he had that was running was a GSXR 1000. Which he claimed would do 220 mph, see the speedo numbers, he had pinned the speedo. I doubt it. Maybe if it was in kilometers,which would be about 140mph! At which point , I not only lost any respect I may have had for this guy, but any credibility also. And rather than argue with him, I invoked Mike's #1 rule, never argue with an idiot, because you will never win. If ever someone fit the rule, I had met him.

Talking with Mickey, who has built motors that set Land Speed World records, he told us the fastest he and Ray had gone was 168 true mph, and that was after the last few mph took over three miles to attain. And they both should know, as the truth was better than any lie they would be told. So I will stand by their story, rather than Mr. Bigger Than Life's lies. It can be dangerous to wake up someone when they are sleepwalking, and don't know it.

Doubt, it has been said, is a subtle force that erodes the foundations of truth. Have you ever seen something yourself, and when relating it have someone say "I doubt it." Ruins the story, and most are too polite to realize they have just been called a liar. And by one simple statement, they don't have to prove their point, but have cast doubt on yours. And your credibility. And it is usually uttered by those who dwell in specious tales, rumors, or innuendos. And truth be told, they don't want to hear the truth, as it offends them, and exposes their lies. And creates more excuses when they are challenged. Then the lies really start to fly. And in these situations, Mike's #1 rule is always the best avenue of escape. So is putting on your helmet and riding away. Does anyone ever believe these guys? I doubt it!

Maybe you have heard about the Mayan calendar and setting the date for the end of the world? Why would you believe a race of cannibals that don't exist anymore? And the billboards for May 21st-the latest end of the world. Seems this group can't figure out how many days are in a year, and repeatedly guess wrong. Credible? I doubt it. And movies like 2012, questionable predictions by Nostradamus, people who dabble in numerology, and others who operate on the fringe of truth, but never enter it, are out more than ever. Something is going on, and will happen. That's true. But God is in control. And you cannot change His schedule, or His reasons. But many-those who doubt the truth and rather live a lie, are trying. Sometimes not realizing they are influenced by the father of lies, the devil. But often are. And whenever the Bible is mentioned, go beyond doubt, and into anger. Fighting against the only truth that will set them free.

A prophet by Bible standards has to be right-100% of the time. Or should be stoned to death. Something to consider if you are espousing these falsehoods, and believe that the law is the only way to live. With over 400 Old Testament prophecies about Jesus fulfilled, it may be easier to just say all when you answer how many have been fulfilled. And as all lies are based on truth, these end of the world tales are distortions of the book of Revelation. Yes, the world is heading towards a climax, when God takes all His believers out of the world. That is the end of the world for Christians. But not for those who disbelieve, scoff, or doubt. And the worst seven years of mankind are about to begin, God even takes it down to the amount of days, just in case your years have a different amount of days than his. And then after the last 42 months, or 1260 days that are the worst ever on earth, will begin a 1000 year reign of peace. Then the end-finally.

So you see, depending on which end you are looking for, your wait may be longer than you expect. Or shorter. I find the truth has always set me free, and so trust Jesus. Who doesn't even know the time or day, for like a Jewish bridegroom, is waiting to be told by His father the day to get His bride and consummate the marriage. And in case you are wondering, the church is the bride, and Jesus is the bridegroom.

Will disbelievers be fulfilled? I doubt it. Will those who believe be disappointed, I doubt it. And while waiting, remember that God promises no man tomorrow. Something to think about today. So next time you are told a lie about the "end times," simply say "I doubt it." No explanation, just walk away. Argument won. It is up to God to change hearts, so let Him. And take heart that to lose an argument, all you have to do is be involved. And remember rule #1 while riding away.

Will I see you in heaven? If you haven't given your life to Jesus here, I doubt it. And I won't be around to argue with you-no doubt about that! Have I made you my enemy by telling you THE truth?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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how about dem apples!

I don't remember any apple trees on Algonquin Drive. But on the way to school at Shackamaxon, we would take a detour through Sweeney's yard, and they had about a dozen of them. And on lazy days, and summers, we would stop and climb them. They were perfectly suited for climbing with their lower limbs, and of course the apples were there for the picking. I can't remember any warnings as a kid about not eating green apples, and so we sure ate our share. And it seemed, the higher we climbed, the better the apples were, with the best ones just out of reach. Seems there was a lesson there.

But as we learned to climb higher, we got braver, defying the staggering heights of 10-15', until we would get chased down, then resume our climbing another day when they weren't home. We actually got up pretty high, and would get pretty brave. And by hang jumping, we would get higher each time, and somehow the ground didn't seem quite as far away. Funny how ten feet up is closer than ten feet down! Especially through the eyes of a young boy.

But secretly it was about the apples, and we got pretty good at picking which ones to eat. It seemed the bigger ones were tastier, and that required more climbing, which was OK by us. And by shaking smaller branches, could get to those we couldn't reach. Rubbing them against our shirts to shine them may not have effected the flavor, but it seemed a shinier apple tasted better than a dull one. And then stuffing our pockets, or the baskets on our bikes, we would head home. I can't remember ever eating these apples at home, they were strictly early road food. But we would take them anyway. But there was one thing, one thing we never did, we absolutely never ate the apples that were on the ground. It was an unwritten rule the best ones were on the tree, and no matter how big, or even shiny they were, and easy to reach, apples on the ground were to be avoided. And you could tell the older ones, as they would get soft, and were great for throwing against a barn. And sometimes you would get grossed out when you would find one with an entry hole for a worm, but no exit hole. And although you rarely saw a worm, you never wanted to be the one who found the worm, whole or half, inside by biting into it. And so the thrill of the climb rewarded us with better fruit, and time spent hiding in the branches with apples to eat. Free apples. Safe in the ignorance that green apples were fine to eat. What a difference today!

"Abide in me, and I will abide in you," Jesus tells us. And when we do, we actually bear fruit. For He is the vine, and when we eat fruit from His tree, we become like Him. But sometimes the tree gets pruned, so it will grow better fruit. And it is tough, but the fruit you produce is better than before. But some choose not to abide in the vine. And they become like the apples that have fallen from the tree-soft, mushy, and useless. But they don't realize it, and they don't realize that they have stopped bearing fruit, and are dead to the things of the spirit. Growth and change are not part of their life, and they become harsh when others change. They don't realize that their relationship with Jesus is based on growing on the vine, and joining with Him and others. And three times in my life, when I have stayed on the vine, while others didn't, I grew and they grew too-only they grew bitter.

When not on the vine, you are on your own. And soon become legalistic, following rules instead of God. And whether it is a church, pastor, denomination, or an organization, you follow them instead of God. And soon you begin to eat the fruit that has fallen from the tree, and worse yet, begin to like it. Maturization is an ongoing, and sometimes slow process, and those who bottom feed don't realize how they are rotting from within. But those abiding in Christ do. And the two just don't mix. The one in the spirit is about God's work, and bearing fruit. The other is about their club, and is loyal to it first, thinking they are in the will of God. And soon, life in the vine continues to bring you closer to God, and you find when in obeyance, sometimes you move on. While they stay behind, safe in the knowledge that they are right, for your enthusiasm rubs them the wrong way. They become critical, and soon turn within, to each other. And end up without God-He has not left them, but they have left Him.

I have found following God to always be the best decision. And don't expect an easy ride. But expect an exciting ride, which is just like climbing higher to get the better apples. And as you grow, you meet others who age maturing in Christ, and you are able to relate to them, and with them. Leaving the legalistic not knowing what is going on. Stuck in a performance based relationship, that they set up, not God.

Listen to God today. He wants you grow in the vine, and abide with Him. To get all the blessings He has for you, and to share His love with others. In both cases, the decision is always yours. Be brave and trust Him. Not getting fed at church, ask Him and He will guide you. The ministry you are in isn't, trust God. Then obey. Desiring more from God, ask and you will receive. Wanting to get closer to Jesus-the spirit will guide you. Make your allegiance to God, and not some group or person. Repent, and turn to God. The apples are waiting for you.

And pray for your old friends, who only have each other. Pray for a revival in their hearts, and lives. Offer them in love, fruit that only comes from above. And stay away from their bitter fruit, that comes from a legalistic relationship. Where the spirit of the Lord is there is liberty. Freedom from the law, and a joy that is never ending, but always growing. Fresh fruit from above.

Let those that choose to live by laws eat of its fruits. Be the apple of God's eye, and enjoy it in pies-always ala mode. The best, the freshest, and always available. Eat of God's garden every day. Just hanging out with Him, among the branches. With others, in the spirit.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

just for the taste of it...

Well, it's official. Saw it on CNN, so you know it's true. Diet Coke is the #2 selling soft drink in the US of A! When over 25 years ago we were told that someday it would pass Pepsi, we thought it was hype, but now it has become reality. diet Coke, note the small "d," has passed Pepsi. When brought to market, Coke was afraid it may fail, and bring disgrace to the iconic brand Coke, so they gave it a small d initially, so in case it did it wouldn't tarnish the name Coke. They already had a horrible tasting, but best selling diet cola named TAB, but chose the name to distance itself from Coke. Certain names are never compromised. A name above all names in the soft drink world.

But as Pepsi ran their challenges, and both their sales increased, diet Coke took over in certain markets. They used to compare the take over to Houston, where Dr. Pepper, the official soft drink of Texas, outsold Pepsi, and watched as diet Coke did the same. Never showing the fear they had internally in case it failed, but claiming all the credit for victory when it succeeded. Humility among victors is seldom seen, and totally absent here. But as the total soft drink market shrinks, and diet Coke's grows, they have a proven formula for success. And where is TAB today? Making a comeback, just don't look for that vile tasting drink in our fridge.

The Pepsi Challenge was a good thing for both companies, as every time Pepsi ran one, Coke sales increased, too. Coke's response, if there wasn't a champion, there would be no challengers! And many would try, but like the ads proclaimed, Coke is it! And now diet, or should I say Diet Coke is too, #2! Not a diet formulation of 7x, the recipe for Coca Cola, but its own formula, changed, or improved many times over the years. And like Coke found out with New Coke, not the capital N, don't mess with the original! And so we have Classic Coke!

In case you haven't noticed, there are many out there to steal your joy via cults, lies, and their false teachings. Who challenge the deity of Jesus. Some deny the deity of Jesus Christ, even though they use His name in their name. Blasphemy! The Jesus in their title is not the one in the Bible. And they know it, but will lie and tell you different. Beware of kids on ten speeds, spreading this false doctrine. Who by the way, are prohibited from drinking Coke. Some deny the existence of heaven, telling their followers when you die, you die. But animals have souls. And denying the deity of Jesus. Openly, and not even claiming to be Christians. No love shown, as they will even excommunicate their own children if they break any of their rules. Now that's love, but not God's love, or any other I know.

For you see there is a challenger for the souls of men, Satan. And he doesn't care how he does it, just so you don't acknowledge Jesus. Whether it is full denial, full worship of him, falling unsuspectingly to his lies, or just using his favorite tactic, getting you to wait, he is out to destroy lives, and keep people from heaven. Subtleness is his game, and destruction is his end. Don't fall for it. Nothing he has to offer can ever compare to Jesus! Seek the real champion of Good Friday, and the first to be resurrected. For we who believe will be resurrected like Him. Choose anything else, and it means death. Choose Jesus, the real thing. Not a diet savior, He paid it all. No need to settle for a substitute, when you can have the real thing.

Satan too knows that if Jesus wasn't the champion, he wouldn't be a challenger. And since the time he was expelled from heaven, has been challenging God and God's people, sometimes winning. But God ultimately wins, and no challenge will ever challenge Him. Seek Jesus today, resist the devil and he will flee. Some challenger, huh? Jesus Christ-the king! Join His kingdom of believers today, and when the challenge comes, you know who wins. More filling, tastes great. For over 2000 years, the true champion. Let God be God, and all others liars!

Bet you never heard that on CNN? Capital J in Jesus, small d in devil. Never confuse the two. Classic love from the son of God. Maybe, just maybe, there is something to this man Jesus after all.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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cruisin' around with a decal on back

A Gold Wing rider asked me the other day "did I take my motorcycle with me when touring?" He didn't understand how you would ride it to your destination, but ship it instead. After all, this is a big country. Confused at first when I told him how exciting the ride could be, and how the trip can be more fun than the destination, I think it may have opened up some new trip opportunities for him. Let's see-touring bike, rider, and 48 states. Sounds like a good equation to me, hope he does-soon! Ride that is.

When The Beach Boys sing Be True to Your School, they sing about "cruisin' around the other parts of the town with a decal on back," so the other kids know where they are from. I can remember once seeing an SPFHS parking sticker on this girl's car, pretty girl who I didn't recognize. Looked familiar, but couldn't place her. Then seeing her again at the pool, in her bikini and no glasses didn't help matters much. It was only after her embarrassing me by telling me her name, that I knew her. She used to sit next to me in Biology, and wouldn't let me get answers from her. Sadly she remembered me. Now I only wish I could have gotten her phone number, as seeing her at the pool gave me a renewed interest in biology, or was it anatomy? But really our common bond was the decal, we were both from the same high school. Just different planets.

My current ride for Triumph is a Tiger 800. Dealers won't have them until July, so when I cruise into a dealer they are very interested. A neat bike, but as yet unobtainable. But as much as the dealers like to see one, and have seen pictures so they recognize it, I lately am getting more recognition from the license plate. It is from Georgia, where Triumph is located. And while enthusiasts notice the bike, tourists note the plate. And I have met some nice people because of it.

"Are you from Georgia?" No, but I have been there. One couple after telling me they were from Atlanta, I mentioned the Varsity. He said "what'll ya have, what'll ya have?" the way they greet you there. And soon we were discussing chili dogs and onion rings, and left old friends. And hungry.

"Did you ride out here from Georgia?" No, but I have ridden there. No relation to the aforementioned Gold Winger. But still, a taste of home to them.

"We're from Decatur, Rome, Savannah," and then talk to me like I've been there. And after listening, add it to my list of places to visit when I do go back. Another question I am asked. But I am always amazed at how that little license plate on back has started many conversations. Kurt Vonnegut calls these things we have in common "grand falloons," a term he made up. And whether you know it or not, a grand fallon is just around the corner for you.

I also get asked how do you ride all these new bikes in California, when the plates say Georgia. After explaining how and why I ride them, they ask what I do for a living. And then I get to share Jesus with them, and the ministry work the Lord has given me to do. From red neck to no neck, I have met some very nice people, and gotten to pray for them, and with them. But when meeting other Christians it is always a rush, as our grand falloon is a person, Jesus Christ. And whether we just met, or have known each other for years, we form an instant bond because of Him. Not by plate or location, but because of a common book we are both written about in, the Book of Life. For once your name is written in it, heaven awaits, and where we were just strangers, now we are friends, and family. And any other subject just isn't as interesting as sharing testimonies with each other. Places to eat, roads to ride, and long trips may be important, but they all pale compared to Jesus.

And that's the way it should be. Keeping the first thing first. So next time you see a Jesus sticker on a car, give them the old "One way with Jesus"sign. Make their day. Hopefully they know what it is-finger pointed to heaven! And say a pray for them. You may never meet or see them again, but God is watching, and smiles when you do. It's called love, and He loves it when His children do it to each other. But also pray for those who cut you off, hog lanes, and even lane split. You never know, we just might end up at the same church sharing a pew. "Haven't I met you before? Do you drive a big SUV with Jesus stickers, who cut me off?" Not how I want to be remembered. How about you?

It might just be a decal on back, but it may also be an invitation to show the love of Christ to the hurting one God has put in your path. Or a Gold Wing rider looking to ride. A pretty girl at the pool, or a tourist hungry for the Varsity. God knows or He would not let you cross paths. And if it's not in your heart, don't wear it on your back. I just might see it and stop and visit with you.

"Say, don't I know you? Didn't I see you praying with that homeless guy and offering him food?" Only a decal on back? You probably think the girl at the pool was only a girl? Or the bike I'm riding is only a bike. Don't make the same mistake with Jesus!

love with compassion,

Mike

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Tom Swift and his magic tape

Much has been said about necessity being the mother of invention, but little has been said about her children, or their cousins. Remember how we all used to drive old vans to carry our dirt bikes? For some reason those old Dodge vans were very popular with friends I had who rode in the dirt. A wonderful design, they had just enough clearance to get your hand stuck between the razor sharp roof crossbar and the handlebars. Maiming, but never severing. Which after repeated mutilations, led to the discovery of old pickups, less secure, but safer to your braking and clutching appendages.

But also inherent to them, was the old three on the tree shifting pattern-something that hasn't been seen for over 30 years. But the Dodges were also known for bad shift linkage, and more than one was known as three on the tree and one in the grill. And one particular guy, nameless, was known for always cutting his hand when placing it between the sharp grill pieces, where you accessed the linkage to get it out of reverse. So dropping it off at the one mechanic who would repair things and wait for his money until we got our next job-we were never unemployed back then, just between jobs to feed our motorcycle addiction, this grumbler of a man would take in this van, more because he needed to fatten his accounts receivable than to show an income that day. That and he rode too, and the threat of leaving him to die if he broke, alone out in the woods kept him on a first name basis with us, if you consider @#$%^** a first name. We all used to have a first name similar to this when riding . I believe you could call this guy the father of necessity. Just so we don't have to call him dad. At least not out of necessity.

Going by one night after work to retrieve the van, and promising to pay when we could, we got in, my friend shifted into reverse, backed up, and the truck wouldn't shift. So he got out, and stuck his hand in the grill, moved the linkage and we drove home. The next day, we went by and told grumbler about the linkage. "I never touched it, thought you were complaining about cutting your hand on the grill. So if you noticed I put duct tape over it. Won't cut your hand again." And walked off. No more torn up hands, no more bleeding, no more gauze and white tape. Only duct tape. But the linkage was still broken. And somehow, fixing a symptom, not the problem, and setting the standard for many technicians of today. Loud noise, turn up the radio. Vibration at 55, only go 50. Won't start in P, start it in N. Nobody has the time to diagnose anymore, but they always have time for you to come back. And at prices you can afford.

I have listened to people with real problems get bad advice like this with spiritual problems. And although backed by scripture, when on their own, the problem only gets worse. Godly advice only works when taken, and when given by God. And in the spirit. I have listened as men are more concerned about the homeless guy and his wanting to quit smoking than giving him a place to live. Or feeding him. Get him to church, and let the pastor tell him about the gospel, we've done our part. Never realizing they are like the duct tape on the grill, a solution to a symptom, but not the problem. Perhaps that is why in Matthew 25 Jesus rebukes the "church" for not feeding the hungry, giving water to the thirsty, clothing the naked, and visiting those sick or in jail. And then He adds these words-"be gone from me you evil ones, you never knew me."

For they would have seen these problems and dealt with them in love if they were His, and walking in the spirit. They would have fed the hungry man, rather than just inviting him to church. There is no duct tape solutions in the gospel-only Jesus. And He knows the cause, so He can offer the solution. Then it our decision what to do with it.

The generation of old vans with three on the tree is almost gone, but duct tape solutions to spiritual matters still exists. God calls it leaning on your own understanding, just the opposite of trusting Him. Perhaps today is the day you get rid of the duct tape, and take real life repairs seriously. You don't figure it out, but let God. And then listen, and be amazed at how when we walk in the spirit, we begin to live-in the spirit. Like the old song says, "trust and obey, for there's no other way...in Jesus!"

The answer is evident, Jesus is not hiding. But it is amazing to me how we don't reach out to Him. Sadly some are like these old vans, and their owners. Still wedging their hands between the roof crossbar and the handlebars, while their hands are safe and secure while reaching in the grill. Never realizing that the same duct tape that worked on the grill would work on the crossbars too!

Because Jesus is the rock, and duct tape is only a roll!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogpsot.com

Salton pepper

Out in the desert east of San Diego, is a huge puddle that measures 35x16-miles that is. A sea in the middle of the desert, at 228 feet below sea level. A puddle, that except for rare occasions has no source of water, and is so alkaline that you cannot swim in it. It is called the Salton Sea, and for little over 100 years, this puddle has been a source of confusion for anyone connected to it. At one time 50 years ago, it was an outdoor resort, where the rich from Palm Springs would go, and mix with Hollywood celebrities at resorts, for swimming, fishing, and water skiing. Before it became alkaline. Today it is a modern ghost town, with ghosts of the past outnumbering the current inhabitants.

Since it sits so low, runoff from the Imperial Valley farmers would run into it, and along with it silt and fertilizers, which would eventually killed the sea-literally. In a strange twist, the fish grew so big, that in the heat they couldn't breathe due to the bad water, then wash up on shore. In one day about 15 years ago 7.6 million did in one day! Which just laid there and rotted causing two things-one an incredibly bad smell, but the other is that they became fertilizer, feeding the algae growing in the sea, which the fish ate, and then the fish start the circle again since they can't live in the water because of the high algae content. It seems they actually die of botulism-food poisoning, from their own carcasses! And the birds that migrate and live in the bird preserve, eat them also-and die! So often it takes a crew from the state park service to continually clean up and incinerate them. Only the tilapia, who can withstand the high salt content survive-at least one year. But cannot be eaten.

Today the few hearty inhabitants of the Salton Sea live in obscurity in Salton City, Niland, Salton Beach, and Bombay City. All that is left is what the salt has not consumed, and the few hundred who live here are there because they want to be. Either leftovers from its halcyon days, or those few trying to hide from the gangs in LA. If ever a Twilight Zone area existed, the Salton Sea is it. Which despite itself killing itself, lives on. Despite itself.

Jesus tells us we are to be the salt of the earth. But what happens when salt loses its flavor, like it has in Salton? Just like the sea, it will consume its own, and those whom it touches. While some teaching tell us to go out and spread that salt indiscriminately, only in the spirit does the salt retain its flavor, and true purpose. When led by the spirit, we grow and bless others, but on our own we become alkaline. We all know some well meaning Christian who when approaching us, we look to avoid. They preach, boast of the Bible, but they have a form of God, but not the true God. Maybe if their lives preached the Bible instead of using words only. They are missing the love aspect, and rather win an argument than see lives changed by Jesus. Just as their salt loses its flavor, and they become effective, they also force their light on others-a high beam when the low beam of love is called for. Secure in the knowledge they are doing what God commands-but couldn't be more wrong. Not what God ever wanted or called for.

If you are going on your own without God-legalism may be directing you. Stop going it alone, and follow Jesus. He alone changes lives, His salt has flavor, and you can follow His light. Only in the spirit will you be blessed and enjoy the fullness of Jesus Christ.

If your life resembles the Salton Sea, unlike it, your life can be recovered. Turn from your sin, turn to God, and follow Him. It is called repentance-not a u-turn, but a turn to Jesus. A u-turn just might put you back into the sea!

The Salton Sea area never intended to turn into a death trap. At one time it was alive and vibrant. Christian walks don't start out on a death walk either. One bad decision can send you the wrong way, but one right decision will restore you. Stay close to God, and follow Him and not your own understanding. Let Jesus season your life, and give life to your seasons. Just the right amount of salt and light to give you life!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogpsot.com