there 's no place like HGTV

Thanks to the Home and Garden Channel, HGTV to you devotees, I have been informed that my 25 year old home needs to be redone. The things I like aren't trendy this year. The knobs on my bathroom sink aren't in style anymore. The hot and cold water still work, isn't that what the are supposed to do? I hadn't realized the flowers I have had for the past eight years are wrong-when they said fine in shady areas, thinking it gets dark every night I bought them. And forgot to tell them not to grow so big I have to cut them back or replant them every year because of sunlight. It took me almost a dozen color samples when I repainted the house to get the right green, which still wasn't the same on the house as it was on the color chart. Now what am I going to do with all these little paint cans, that don't have enough to cover anything? And not what I really want?

I didn't know that red, white, and blue weren't trendy this year. Did anyone think to advise Betsy Ross when she knitted the first flag? And as our floor gets worn-it is distressed barn wood, and now I'm told that it looks old, which is what we wanted when we bought it, did I miss something? My blinds are wrong, my windows somehow let light shine in on sunny days, and my sprinklers aren't on a timer. And when it comes to the garage, that is where I draw the line-it is for cars and motorcycles, not for all the storage of all the trendy junk that was stylish last year, but out of style this year. You got a problem with Snap On, Harbor Freight, and motorcycle posters-stay out!

It seems anyone can be an expert, given their own TV show. So I would like to have my own HGTV show. Which would show these pleasure palaces that these trendy HGTV junkies have, in one year, when the paint peels, the rugs need cleaning, the sofa has towels on it to cover soda stains, and the car is rusty from sitting out all year in the rain. A highlight each week would be where the exterminators come and empty all the stuff in the garage into a dumpster, from contamination from mice and rats. I wondered where that smell came from? I would have a special segment on men finally telling their petulant wives to stop spending, "I hate laminates," and how they can have talent to make so much money, but have such poor taste in women. And then finding out the house is worth a lot less when she leaves to find another sugar daddy in real estate. And a new show can start, call it the REPO channel. But the series would be based on the houses these self proclaimed experts live in. I want to show the worn out, leaky toilet that the buff plummer who never gets his hands wet uses every day. How the paint is peeling in the interior decorator's kitchen. How she can't find the dining room table because so much junk is piled on it. And how her K-Mart inflatable sofa is still trendy, in the office, which is really a third bedroom, but could be used as a walk in closet, which she was told when she bought the place. How the home has become more office than home. I would parade them in front of the color charts at Home Depot, and tell her, "pick out a soothing color for the living room that goes with your faded blue shag carpet." How to choose a color to match the spilled latte around the kitchen counter. Which towing service will remove my dead car for the least amount of money, while I still make payments? And watch as when they have to spend their own money, see trends change. How to make lawn furniture look good next to the entertainment center. How to cover stains with towels. How to decorate using Charger memorabilia, and switch to the Yankees for the summer. Personal taste, or lack of it, becoming more-personal. And how why she never entertains friends at home anymore, since both her cars, including the one that does run take up all the parking. And how if she had invested her HOA fees in the stock market, she could have moved to a nicer place-and started the whole process all over again. She will be receiving the full impact of her wonderful advice to others. She will have gone from a home owner, to being owned by her home.

Sadly many live their lives like this. It is all about appearance, and impressing your friends, who you secretly hate because they have one upped you. Pete Maravich once said "Money will by a fine dog, but only love will make it wag its tail." To paraphrase, "money will by a fine house, but only love will make it a home." Try that one on for size. For within the worn walls of our home, are precious memories, and reminders of good times. Of Christmas parties, and leaking Triumphs in the driveway. Crooked blinds from the cat looking through them. Cabinets still held shut with rubber bands, so the cat stays out. Paint faded, floors showing age, but showing how the house became a home. A place where the presence of God is felt, and people feel welcomed. Where you are welcomed as you are. And when you leave, feel better than when you arrived. Where time spent is important, and times spent with God making the difference. Just like the song, "Give me that old time religion," it's good enough for me.

Open your home today, and let God welcome others into it. Sit on the old sofa, and share His blessings. Look at the growth marks of the kids on the walls, and make your guest welcome, welcome enough they can go to the refrigerator themselves, or take off their shoes and stretch out on the sofa. Let your theme for the house be love, and let God decorate it.

And for a good laugh, put on HGTV, and laugh, but really pity those who think that love, joy, and peace are found in new paint, and trendy colors. Jesus' love has never gone out of style, and you are always welcome at His house. So kick back, relax, and enjoy the time you have with Him. And ask yourself, "if He came to your house, would He be impressed with your decorating, or would He be more comfortable with being welcomed into your home?" Let Him into your life, and heart today. Start making new memories now. Sure beats reruns on HGTV!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

"what's the story?"

"Hey Jerry, what's the story?" And if you happened to be living in the New York Metro area in the early seventies, you knew his answer. Cheap, discounted appliances, TV's and stereos-if you had a union card. For dressed in his bib overalls and yellow hard hat, Jerry was the spokesman for JG and E-the first warehouse store of its kind in New York. He would rant and rave, and at the end, he would say with open arms, "That's the story!" And it was so popular it was in jokes, stories, and people found ways to use it in their daily conversation. And since there were so many hard hats at the time, we didn't call us ourselves Conservatives then, but the Liberals were already called Liberals, he appealed to many. We were Americans.

Working on a loading dock in 1973, we all wore American Flags on our cars, shirts, and on the hard hats many wore. The Silent Majority, the Nixon Administration had labeled us, and when the hippies were against what America stood for, we fought back. Some physically, some financially, and many spiritually. "Love it or leave it!" And as the amount of import cars came in from Japan, they would even be forced to park the farthest away, if allowed to park in the lot at all. America was under siege and its greatness threatened, and true patriots were not going down without a fight. And having the ability to look back, the same group, basically unions, have gone from defending America, to being part of the root cause of its demise. In one generation, they have gone from conservative, to liberal. Not willing to sacrifice as many have in previous generations, but willing to have others suffer so they may enjoy the greatness America still has to offer. The generation that followed what Tom Brokaw has labeled "the Greatest Generation," is now the all about me generation. And many look around, without Jerry's iconic hard hat and bib overalls, and ask, "what's the story?"

But because of God's love for America, like the song says, "God shed His grace on thee," a reassurance in values via Christianity, also took place a the same time. Not concerned with who you are, were, or were going to be in society, God loved a generation, and still does today. Calvary Chapel, fathered by Chuck Smith, when confronted by his denomination, chose Jesus over their doctrines, and the rest is history. Teaching from the Bible verse by verse, he reached the same group of hippies, but showed them a better way-Jesus. He showed them via God's love, and without any membership cards, that no matter your position in life, without the peace only found in Jesus, you would be miserable. You may be miserable with a better job, bigger car, and nicer home, but still missing the message of salvation. Such is God's love, and truly where sin abounds, does God's grace abound even more. "That's the real story," Jerry.

Great nations are never conquered, but do rot from within. They conquer themselves, and as I watch the US of A rotting from within, we can only turn to God. And as He tells us in 2 Chronicles 7:14, "if we turn to Him, repent, and follow Him, He will save our land. Can we take a minute and let that sink in? Where politicians continue to encourage strife, where the media continues to exercise its power as the fourth estate, and as more continue to succumb to the ways of the world, God, who created it, is willing to save it and you if you turn to Him? My only question is, why aren't we? And why aren't you? Throughout history those nations that have honored God have been honored by Him. Just look at our history until recently? And we have the audacity to have to ask, what's the story?

In every great battle, there is a turning point. Let today be your turning point, and choose to serve God. Let Jesus into your life, and as our nation walks in the valley of the shadow of death, you will fear no evil. God's peace will guide you through any and all situations. His love will guide you, and bless you in ways no discounted goods ever could. He will heal you individually, and then as a land. And restore us to our former greatness if only we turn to Him now.

Sorry Jerry, but you came and went. But other discount houses replaced you, until they came and went to. It's all about Jesus! "That's the story!"

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

He strides across the home screen—a burly leprechaun in work shirt and blue hard hat. In an accent straight from the streets of New York he answers an off-camera voice that keeps asking: "So what's da story, Jerry?" The story is a hammering promotion for JGE (Jamaica Gas & Electric), a cut-rate appliance firm that sells only to union members, civil service employees and their families. As Jerry explains: "Know the model and number of the appliance you want; Jerry can get it for you wholesale." The voice concludes: "So that's da story, Jerry?" Roars back the pitchman: "That's the stawry!"

The commercial, which has been blasting from four New York City-area television stations 144 times a week, has made Jerry Rosenberg, 39, a local celebrity, renowned as the workingman's friend. It has transformed JGE, which Jerry owns with his brother Charlie, 44, from a run-of-the-crate appliance store into a wildly successful discount business that is expanding its unbuttoned merchandising methods far and wide. JGE's sales have gone from $1.8 million in 1971, its first year of discounting, to an expected $8 million this year. Operating on gross profit margins of about 12%, less than half as much as other appliance dealers, the Rosenbergs will post net earnings of about $250,000 from their single outlet.

The Rosenberg brothers are embarked on a new venture that could well balloon their business without risking a dime of their own money. They are licensing the JGE name to furniture and carpet retailers who want to go discount. The licensees pay an undisclosed percentage of their gross to JGE for its advertising and merchandising help; beyond that, they are on their own. So far, JGE has recruited eleven merchants in New York and New Jersey and is negotiating with 28 others whom the brothers expect to sign up this month. The Rosenbergs confidently figure to expand soon from coast to coast.

Big-time though it is, JGE sticks stubbornly to small-time style. Its "showroom" is a small, carton-crammed section of a warehouse in a sidestreet in Bayside, Queens. All sales are for cash. Except for the Rosenbergs, who sometimes help unload trucks, only part-time employees mind the store. They include moonlighting policemen, housewives and four or five high school basketball players from the Friends' Academy in Locust Valley, N.Y. Clerks make no effort to push a particular brand or persuade customers to buy a higher-priced item; they simply take orders. Yet JGE turns over $300,000 worth of stock about every two weeks.

Save a Bundle. The Rosenbergs saw the potential of reviving real discounting seven years ago, closed their regular appliance shop and set their sights on a specific target: union members and civil servants who are willing to travel 50 miles or more to save a bundle. Now buyers queue up to get in—and save. A 5,500-B.T.U. General Electric air conditioner goes for $149 at JGE v. $184.95 at Macy's; a compact portable dishwasher sells at JGE for $159 v. $199.95 at Macy's; a Sony portable color TV sells for $375 v. $470 at Bloomingdale's for the identical model.

the chocolate subway marshmallow overcoat solution

Remember the words to the song, Secret Agent Man? "They're giving him a number, and taking 'way his name..." How Bond, James Bond was known throughout the world as 007? Maybe in the spy business numbers rule, but in real life, names are more important. And from the multisyllabic names found in the Old Testament, to the shorter ones found in the New, they all have importance.

The late sixties gave freedom to call rock groups by some unusual names. Strawberry Alarm Clock. Creedance Clearwater Revival. Iron Butterfly. King Crimson. Jethro Tull. Quicksilver Messenger Service. Mothers of Invention. Steely Dan. 10cc. The Hawks, who when the Viet Nam war escalated, were just referred to as The Band. But did toy with the idea of Chocolate Subway Marshmallow Overcoat. Same music, different name. I guess it beats Atomic Rooster, but not Ambrosia. I think you get the idea. Unique names, some with meaning you understood, and some with meaning you hoped your mother never knew. But it seems the sixties gave rise to unique descriptions from these groups, and psychedelic names were all the rage. We had a clothing store, in Westfield, called a head shop, before that name too became drug related, named Dead Ice Cream. Cool name, and you could buy cool clothes at a premium price. The name lives on, the store closed. Wish I had kept some of the clothes. And if you didn't have a cool name, you could always have a cool motto, like Slegers Forbes, the motorcycle dealer that Malcolm Forbes was partner in. They were known as the "Cycle-logical Dealer!" Maybe the only place where being logical with a motorcycle was encouraged. In real life, most guys I knew who rode were "Psycho-logical." If you knew them, the name made perfect sense, just don't ask me to explain. Please.

But unless you were Bond, James Bond, where 007 carried more weight, or knew the words to Secret Agent Man, "they're giving you a number, and takin' 'way your name," names are important. And with each generation, the most popular names change. I never thought of my parents as trendy, but here we are Michael, and my sister Susan, very popular names in the fifties. I went to school with too many Jennifers-never Jen or Jenny. Remember Pat on SNL-a he or she? Same problem with her friend, Chris. Those genderless names always confused me. And names a hundred years ago were so stately-or boring. Names like Hamilton, Housely, Hermoine, and Geraldine. Were their nicknames Ham, House, Herm, and Gerry? I have a friend whose dad was a twin, Gerald and Geraldine. We had a friend named Valerie Valerie. I had a friend who named his son Mister, "they will always refer to my son as Mister..." Add in all the Bills and Bobs, John and Joes, and you would think we would run out of names before we run out of people.

Old Testament names have always been a problem with me. Adonijah, Bathsheba, Methuselah, Jehoshabeath, Jehosophat, Hezekiah, Nebachadezezzer, Sennacharib, and Zipporah. Obviously these kids had a hard time learning to spell their names in school, let alone pronouncing them while learning to talk. Or answering the phone. "Hey mom, can I go over to Melchizadek's house and play?" So I find it ironic, when Jesus' cousin is born, that his dad says, "we will call him John," and then is silent until his birth. For no one had ever had that name in his family before. And it started a whole new name game, that continues on even today.

Believe it or not, Jesus was a common name in his time. But He was anything but common. Emmanuel, God with us. King of Kings, Lord of Lords. Wonderful. Counselor. Descriptions of a man, who was really God-a true Godman, and unique in all history. Yeshua to His other Jewish friends, today just the mention of His name evokes emotion. To Christians, He is the savior. But sadly to many others, His is the number one name taken in vain. Trying taking Buddhas name in vain, and watch his followers get upset. But Christians are supposed to give and forgive, in love. Like Jesus did. A name to be remembered easily. And He even had simply names for His disciples. Peter, James, John, Levi, Andrew, Judas. Simple names, and names that were important to Him, because they were His friends. But there is still something about His name.

Today He offers you the chance to know Him on a first name basis. Yes, He is Lord. He is King. He is the Mighty Saviour. But those are all titles. When He introduces Himself to you, He makes it personal. "Just call me Jesus." Get to know Him. Become His friend. And let Him be yours. Jesus, like Yeshua for Joseph.

Knock, knock. Who's there? Joe. Joe who? Joe Savior, Jesus. Jesus Christ, the title. Or if you must, Jesus the Christ. But His friends just call Him Jesus.

What do you call Him tells a lot about who He is in your life. Bow to Him now, or bow to Him later. Now is voluntary. In hell, you will in agony. Wishing you had here.

Just a name? Then you probably think He was just a person.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogpsot.com

an open letter to William Shatner

Dear Bill,

Recently I watched a show called "How William Shatner Changed the World." And it seems that in this recent enterprise of yours-no pun intended, in achieving your new PhD in praise of yourself (Piled high and Deep), you claim that you and Star Trek were responsible for many of today's inventions. And since no one really cares, no one will dispute you, and the truth will get muddled, at least until some future generation reads it, and believes it. And in a sense you, or really your legend will live forever-in reruns. A legend in your own mind. But while watching TCM the other morning, I saw the first of 12 installments in Buck Rogers, filmed in 1939. Something you may have seen at the movies as a kid. And I was surprised at how many of the things you claimed to have originated were in this early film, at least 30 years before Star Trek-not sure what that is in Star dates.

When Buck and his zeppelin mate Buddy Wade crash their zeppelin at the North Pole-circa 1938, from a remote location Nirvano Gas is released into the ship to place them in suspended animation until they can be rescued. Seems without cell phones or GPS, it took a bit longer than expected, and they are discovered in the year 2440. Where a two man crew in a space ship, sees the zeppelin frozen in the ice, and explores it. Using what appear to be Phasers, they melt the ice and snow, and enter the cabin-retrieving Buck and Buddy, and taking them to their commander. Where they are whisked away in a transporter chamber-their atoms are treated with radiation and can be reconstructed anywhere the operator desires. Sound familiar? With apologies to Scotty, Bill you didn't invent either of these. To quote Ecclesiastes, there is nothing new under the sun. Is it possible that you have go where man has gone before?

We just got done celebrating Resurrection Day, Easter to those initiated. And of course the doubters, and story tellers are out in force. Claiming it never happened, and fabricating stories of how the tomb was empty because a man who had endured 39 lashes, then hung on a cross until dead, then had a spear stuck in his heart, wasn't really dead, but somehow when He revived, had the strength to move a 2 ton rock, by Himself, and escape-unseen by the Roman Guard set to make sure none of this happened. Now that's Science Fiction! And it must really take faith to believe that! But just to prove that He lives, He made Himself visible to many, including over 500 at one time! Who Paul records as seeing Him in one day-and who at the time of his writing his first letter to the Corinthians, would have been alive to dispute his writing if it was false. But they didn't-because it's true! He really was raised from the dead-Resurrected! And they did see Him-and knew who He was and what had happened!

Someday you fill face death too Bill, and I wonder, who is the Captain Kirk of your Enterprise? All your accomplishments, space travel, TJ Hooker episodes, and self aggrandizement shows will not get you to heaven. Beating Gorns, Klingons, and Romulans will not gain you entrance to heaven. You need to meet the same Jesus who revealed Himself over 2000 years ago. When you die, knowing Him will make the difference in beaming down to hell, or beaming up to heaven. We never know when our last day is, and the eternal transporter is standing by to beam you somewhere after death. No suspended animation like Buck and Buddy. No Science fiction writer to bring you back miraculously next week. Is there a heaven? To quote your Science Officer-"Indeed."

Don't let "He's dead, Jim" be the last words you hear on earth. Go boldly where many have gone before-based on a simple faith. All heroes will die-only those saved will go to heaven. Think about it Bill, even at warp speed you will never see it all! But first, you have to get there. Trust God, for Jesus is the only way.

love with compassion,

Mike PhD-(praying hard daily)

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the ultimate road trip planner

"It goes from Chicago to LA...more than, 2000 miles along the way...get your kicks, on Route 66..." The Mother Road it has been called. Route 66, officially named in 1926, and in 1985 officially decommissioned, when Williams, Az. is the last town to be by-passed by the interstate. Where one road took you on an over 2000 mile exodus, now it takes five interstates! And you miss so much of the fun and challenge of driving an old highway. A time gone by, where Mom and Pop motels have been replaced by chains. Where lunch counters have been replaced by fast food restaurants-funny we won't call them diners, although we refer to those who eat there as diners-rather than restaurateurs. And where gas station attendants used to check your oil, fill your gas, wash your windshield, and offer free maps and directions, toady we swipe a card at the pump, and never get the rest that the old gas stop provided. Using mileage markers and exit numbers to find our destination. No more Pecan Logs at Stuckeys, or gazing at snake skins in Arizona. No more signs warning you of the thousand rooms for the night in Tucumcari. Only the alert traveler today will notice Lucille's, and stop in to eat while in Oklahoma. Hot after a ride, stop by Ted Drewes Custard Stand in St. Louis. And for how many thousands has the Santa Monica Pier been there first time seeing the Pacific!

But today we have the Eisenhower Interstate System. Based on what Ike saw in Germany during WWII, he noted we needed a modern freeway system to carry Americans who wanted to travel, but also for military purposes of moving troops and equipment, should we ever have to fight on our own turf. Or move the same internally during times of war. A good idea, and it works, and an added benefit to guys like me, is that it frees up roads like Route 66 for the rest of us. Where we can ride and visit in a different era, at a different speed, and to a different melody. A few minutes where I can reflect on why I miss America.

I can't tell you how many times I have travelled 66, I used to live a few blocks off of Central in Albuquerque. But with its rebirth via local and state associations, much of it can still be travelled, and many old land marks still exist. You just need to be more patient-but they are there. And I can promise you, from riding most of it, except Illinois into Chicago, there is still plenty of life along the Mother Road. Just look at it through 1950's eyes, and enjoy the ride. Bumps, potholes, turns, changes in altitude, and crossing of state lines. Anything but straight and narrow-interesting and challenging, looking for new adventures, just like life.

So why does God tell us to stay on the straight and narrow road? Is He an interstate highway advocate? Does He not like the old highways and the small towns? Does He prefer fast food to a blue plate special? Is He in a hurry to get where He is going? Maybe the answer lies more with us, than with Him. He knows all the roads, and what is ahead for us on them. He sits on a peak, and can see around mountain curves we can't. He can see ahead past the dust storm or detour, and knows when we will need gas and food. He has that special memory just waiting for us ahead, and those appointed to share it with us. And because of that, and His love for us, He has given life to us. He has plans for us, to give us that life. He has ordered our steps-not commanded them, but like staying on a route to a destination, has laid out a plan. The ultimate trip planning service. And orderly plan, which if followed in the Spirit will give us a safe trip, and definitely not a boring one. Straight and narrow can sound so boring to a biker on vacation, but this plan is designed to give peace of mind. Think of a curve as a series of straight lines, at different angles, and it all makes sense. Stay on that road, and you won't end off in the bushes. No detours necessary if you follow the map. Don't be allured by billboards who promise one thing, when you know they will deliver another. Don't look for discounts that aren't. The temptations will always be there. Obey the warning signs, and enjoy the ride.

Things can change in a day's notice, or without notice. On Palm Sunday, Jesus rode into town, a hero's welcome. And by Thursday would be betrayed by a friend, and crucified on Friday-Good Friday. But by Sunday morning, His tomb was empty. Proving to all, including those who yelled "crucify Him!" that He really was who He said He was. And with His death and resurrection we can have new life in Him. A straight and narrow road to Heaven, no detours or road blocks. Maybe that is really the straight and narrow road He talks of, and wants us to be on. He wants nothing to get between Him and us, so makes a direct road to Him. Straight and narrow. Like riding I-40 from Bro. Willie's in Nashville. You will know to stop when you see the Pacific. It is only in life we experience the curves. His directions-simple and easy to follow.

Get out soon and get some kicks on Route 66, or any other road. See America while you still can. But get on the straight and narrow road to Jesus today. Don't wait! All roads lead somewhere, only one leads to Him!

Call it the Father Road! The only one who truly leads to our Heavenly Father. Another travel tip from His son, Jesus.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

final jeopardy

The answer is yes. And in true Jeopardy form, you must answer in the form of a question, just like your kids answer you. Huh, and what are not acceptable answers here. And the correct Jeopardy response is, "How did God respond to Cain when he was asked am I my brother's keeper?" Now Theresa and I were talking the other morning about an old story by O. Henry. The wife sells something valuable to her to buy a gift for her husband, and he does the same for her. And when they exchange gifts, both are finding how it is more blessed to give than receive, for the gift they gave came with a price. They both gave up something of value, that was worth more to the other than the gift it purchased. And when I asked if she had heard this story, she said, "remember it's on the Sesame Street Christmas Album." Burt and Ernie if I remember correctly. And it is, and I would love to think that O. Henry's version is a bit more sophisticated. Even if we're not.

In the biker community we understand about taking care of brothers who have gone down. Various "Biker Down" rallies are held each year, and special rides for those who have died, and to help their surviving families. Whether it be money, time, or muscle donated, it all goes to meet a need. And in times of despair or tragedy, we become a very needy people. And many do, through ministries, to their church, or even just reaching into their pocket to give. And God loves a cheerful giver, in fact the word He uses for cheerful is like you laugh out loud while giving. "Take it-make me happy! Isn't this fun! Let's encourage others to join in with us!" And those of us who do are richly blessed. It is not so much the amount, but the heart that it was given with. And in some cases, the cost is high.

It is not unusual to meet friends my age who have become grandparents. And they love it. But sometimes it comes with a heavy price tag. The mother is single, and cannot afford to raise the child herself. Due to sin, lifestyle, or economics-she must give it up. And after making the right decision not to abort, she is faced with what to do. And that is where so many grandparents are becoming parents to their children's children. At a time where it should be their time, and they should be enjoying time with their spouse and ease into retirement, they suddenly are called upon, and respond in love to the need. A lady friend of mine recently reminded me of how her mother was her hero, when she was forced to give up her four kids, and her ability to mother them, Rosalie, her own mom stepped in, and raised them and loved them. Looking past the sin that put the kids in danger, she loved them. And I congratulate her and others who have sacrificed in doing this. When Jesus tells us "greater love has no man than to lay down his life for another," he means these parent/grandparents too. And they are heroes, and when asked by God like Cain was, they answer correctly. Without taking the mark of sin upon themselves. Overlooking it, for love covers a multitude of sin.

Much has been offered in answer to what the mark of Cain was, but it was a stain that no man could eradicate. Sin will do that to you. So when Jesus takes away our sin, and makes us white as snow, He also removes the stain. Not like my white shirts, that after many washings still have traces of oil-stains,(why is it always my favorite t-shirts?) but the stain completely gone-like it never existed. And when God is asked, He doesn't see it or remember it-it truly is washed away. The stain of sin removed, and all it took was the giving over of His son for the sacrifice. I say all, because Jesus gave it, and all to Him we owe. Like the old song says, "sin had left a crimson stain, He washed it white as snow." And since it is gone, not even God sees it. He calls it forgiveness, and how good a feeling it is to be forgiven.

Are you feeling guilty about past sins? Truly-give them to Jesus. And forget about them, He does. Don't remind Him of something He has forgotten. Listen to the spirit and when God puts a Lazarus-someone in need, in your path, respond in love, by giving. Meet the need. And like I tell people, "if my house is on fire, don't hand me your checkbook-hand me a fire extinguisher!" Meet the need!

Final Jeopardy answer. The category-ONE WORD ANSWERS. Master, saviour, Son of God, Son of Man, Emmanuel, God with us, brother and friend.

The correct response, Who is Jesus? I hope you bet it all-for He did for you. That makes you a winner-and stain free.

And for that special lady who inspired this story-remember you are too! Clean before your Lord. And a hero to me.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

half of all doctors graduated in the bottom half of their class

The 1962 Mets lost 120 games. For every four games they played, the lost three. Needless to say they were not a very good team, so to be the backup second baseman may tell you a lot about your talent. On a team with Elio Chacon, Choo Choo Coleman, Marvelous Marv Throneberry(who once dropped a ball a kid tossed to him to autograph,) Hot Rod Kanehl, Pumpsie Green, and Felix "Wrong Way" Mantilla, you may be hard pressed to under achieve in this group. And the next year they improved, winning 51 games, just 48 games out of first place. Helped by their newly acquired a backup second baseman from the Dodgers. Larry Burright. Lifetime .205 hitter, with 33 RBI's in his career. An instant hero among Met fans. A natural for Casey to manage. "Break up the Mets!" the fans cried. So when we heard that Larry Burright, that second baseman for the Mets was visiting our friend's sister, down on Newark Ave., we ran to see him. Peeking through the living room window, there he was-sitting on the sofa with her. Bigger than life, a real ballplayer-a Met! And rather than meet him, we ran away and giggled, because he was bigger than life, which can be very intimidating to an 8 year old. But I can still remember looking in the window with my friends, even if I can't remember the girl he was visiting. And somehow he was not as big in real life without his uniform as he was on TV with it.

Bikerjim and I were joking one day that even if a doctor graduates 312 in class of 312, he is still a doctor. So when his liver doctor came in, we got joking with him, and told him our theory. And where did he graduate in his class? We got a smile, which at first made me think we had just met #312, but it was even funnier. Or sadder, I wasn't the patient. The school he attended didn't have class rankings, it was pass/fail. Sorta like your driving test, don't hit anyone and you will pass. After you get your license, well that's different if you hit someone then. You're legal. And we all laughed, and he saw our point. Which I'm not sure was, but Dr. Pass/Fail would have to do for now. We didn't dare to ask what the passing score was, I know you can miss 30% of the questions in California and still get a license.

I took a course at UNM once on applying books to life. A great course, and learned a lot. I excelled, until I got my grade-PASSED! For in my haste, I had marked the application pass/fail instead of getting a grade. And in the only class I should have had an A, I got credit. The same as the kid who showed up stoned every day, and whose lifelong goal was to live in an adobe hut. The same as the ditzy blond, who giggled about everything, and the girl from New York City with 12 rings in her nose!

A-A-A-H-H-H!!!

For just as Larry had made the team, and Bikerjim's doctor made the staff, I had made the cut. I just had nothing to show for it. Read the small print, it may save you pain later. And embarrassment!

There are a lot of nice people out there going to hell. They think that based on good works, they will make it to heaven. And I have heard them argue how it is not right for God to show mercy to others and let them in, just because they got saved. Now I have never understood that gospel, which is not found in the Bible, but spoken from many pulpits. Just be a good person, and you'll get in. Say the right prayers, attend faithfully, and meet your tithing obligation, and you'll make it. And nothing could be a bigger lie!

You cannot influence God! You cannot earn your way to heaven. Just imagine if you could, like the doctor who was 312 of 312. There are no class rankings in heaven. It is a pass/fail. With a very simple final exam question, it can even be an open book test. Who do you say Jesus is? If you answer "He is the son of God," and repent, you inherit the kingdom of God. But if you deny His deity, say as cults like Jehovah Witnesses, and the Mormons do, you won't make it. You are destined to hell-whether you believe in it or not. No matter how many magazines you pass out, doorbells you ring, or missions you go on-you cannot work your way to heaven. No deals! It is a gift, and only if you accept it, for love does not force itself on anyone, and God is love!

I still love the Mets, although I haven't followed them for years. How can you ever forget game 6? And Bikerjim is still being treated, and everyday thousands pass their driver's test, whether they can drive or not. But no one gets into heaven without Jesus. But God is patient, and right now is a good time to ask Him into your life. No ceremony, no membership to join, just a simple prayer. Forgive me Lord, and I want to be saved.

The process is easy, and the rewards great. And even second string second baseman on a second rate team can get in. Doctors-God wants you, not your ranking. And for the rest of us-I am glad God chose a pass/fail, for I never would have made the grade. And either would you. Brings a whole new meaning to mercy and grace, doesn't it? How about them Mets?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

first rule-obey all rules

Henry Ford once said "history is bunk." But he knew who to bunk with, or better yet, who not too. Seems we are known by the company we keep, and first impressions still make a difference. When Jesus first met Andrew and Peter, He called them and they came. No credit report, or references, they came, when called. The Spirit urged them, and they obeyed. What a concept! Obedience. And if it worked then, do you think it might work now?

The law versus the spirit defines the Old and New Testaments. In the Old, everything was required from you in keeping the laws, some 600+ of them. No way you could ever keep them all, or even know what they are. So you were always in trouble. Just like a woman from Haz Mat told me, they are self sustaining, and need to fine people to exist. And since it is impossible to know all the rules and regulations, rest assured she could find one in even the cleanest shop. Guilty. Tell me, which law is your favorite?

That's the law, yet so many Christians desire to live under it, and can't keep it, and so are always in sin. Why even try when it is so futile? Just try to build a house, or even an addition, or start a business. You will be overwhelmed by laws, restrictions, and covenants-when all I want is to cover my patio, or make widgets. The law kills-but thankfully, the spirit gives life.

I used to bug Ken, our Bible study leader, about rules. He would pray "let your Spirit guide us tonight," then tell us the rules for the evening. Which was it? And many will argue you need rules, and you do-because we refuse to obey the spirit. God says very simply, obedience is better than sacrifice. Do you need to review all your problems from disobedience to get that one? What is your favorite part of sacrifice?

So walk in the spirit. Trust God, is how I put it. But how do you trust someone you don't know? Again simple-get to know Him. Read your Bible-God's gift to man. Pray-ask Jesus to help you. And let the Spirit guide you. He gave us all a conscious, and although most of us are unconscious, He forgives and shows us a better way. But it is up to us to make the decision.

Henry must have thought history was bunk, but it has also been said if we ignore history, we are condemned to repeat it. Stupid hurts, so seek to live in the spirit. Trust God and follow Him. And obey the one commandment He gave-love Him with all your heart, and your neighbor as yourself. That ought to keep us busy for awhile-say like until He calls us home.

Let God guide you-not control you like religion, but guide you. You get to make the choices, but make them based on God's knowledge, and watch as joy enters your life. Jesus hated religion, which means binding, and promises freedom from it. Seek the spirit today, and you will find Him. Just a little faith will go much further than any laws. History-His story-let it be found in the Holy Spirit living within you!

God shed His grace on thee. And where his spirit is found, there is liberty. What part of freedom don't you understand?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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six hours

It's a Beautiful Day-what a great name for a group. Out of San Francisco in 1967, they put out their signature album in 1969 by the same name. The White Bird album is how it is usually referred to, and it has no bad songs on it. Like they used to say, put it in the first groove and let it wail. And this classical/jazz/rock music will move you for over 40 minutes. But the long song, at over nine minutes is called Time, appropriately enough, and the beat is fast, but the words make you think.

"Time is too long for those who wait..." Sounds like a lot of us. "Time is too short for those who laugh..." agreed. "But for those who really love time is eternal..." AMEN.

Take six hours for instance. 360 minutes if you will. I can ride to Phoenix from home, and still have an hour left for lunch. I can fly non-stop to Newark in the same time. Football couch potatoes spend that much time on Sundays on NFL games. Kids in school have a six hour day. And depending on whether you are waiting for school to let out, or pick up someone at the airport, or go for a ride through the desert, each six hours will take a different amount of time in your mind. But the time elapsed will always be the same, but not the state of mind. Time can be like that. Why do the last two minutes of an NFL game take so long? Two minutes still equals 120 seconds. Why does it take so long to taxi to the gate once you've landed? And why does cruising in traffic seem to take forever after riding at 85mph? All are six hour experiences, it is how you view the activity.

On a certain Friday, a man with two thieves was hung on the cross for six hours. Crucifixion, the called it, one of the most cruel ways to die ever invented. And for six hours, our Lord Jesus hung there, in agony and in innocence. Two thieves, one on either side-one acknowledged who He was, the other rejected. And each one was to have a different take on eternity. At about 3pm, after six hours, the guards came to break the legs of the crucified, to hasten their death. Not in mercy, they just wanted to go home. But they found Jesus already dead, and thrust a spear into Him, releasing blood and water from around His heart. The blood, shed for us, is the same blood we celebrate in communion, and the water-quite possibly tears stored for you in His heart, for He spent the six hours on the cross praying for all of us. His final act on earth, one of love. Offering us the same salvation He had offered the thieves. And just like when His Father created the world in six days, and then rested, Jesus entered back into eternity, and for those of us committed to Him, He paved the way for us to rest, also. And like His Father, He saw that it was good.

Six hours, not a long time, but a tortuous time for Jesus. But in that time, He would change the world. And no one could see why it was to be called Good Friday, for how could anything be good to anyone at the time. But three days later, when they found His tomb empty, and remembered His promises, it all became clear. Especially to the thief who had been promised Paradise that night by Jesus. All who believe Jesus will enter into rest, and heaven upon death on earth! Our tombs will be empty too! And that is why we celebrate Easter, or better yet Resurrection Day! To be reminded of a time when we too shall be resurrected like Jesus-but only if you believe. But you cannot have Easter without Good Friday, and although painful for Christ, it was most definitely a good day for us.

Consider that next time you get impatient, what Jesus did in six hours. Patiently and painfully. Time truly seems too long for those of us who wait. Time is way to short for those of us who laugh. But for those who really love-time is eternal! That makes any day special.

Patience, endurance, and the eternal reward of heaven. We are only one decision away, just like the thief who chose Jesus. Choose wisely-no second chances at death. No resurrection for those who don't believe. For them, time will be agonizingly long. But for us-aah, heaven. And I can't wait! Oh, and by the way-Jesus never hurried! He's patient so that no one will have to go to Hell. Tomorrow is promised to no man, and today is the day of salvation. Six hours-not a lot of time, to some a few minutes-to others an eternity! Truly in Jesus, It's a Beautiful Day!

For a beautiful story of that day, crossministries.net

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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Lakes, Ladds, Giants, and Padres

Cheryl Ladd, aka Charlie's Angel Kris, was only 5'4". The same height as her famous father-in-law Alan Ladd. And her height was fine for her, but for a man who was playing hard guys in Film Noir, sometimes the femme fatale was taller. So using lifts in his shoes, and never having him stand next to a taller man, the camera could/would portray him as taller. And watching him with Veronica Lake last night-perhaps the ultimate femme fatale, with that blond hair covering one eye, in all the close up shots the camera is looking up at him, but down at her. Giving the illusion that he was taller than he really was. Only in one shot where he was sitting in a car did he look like a teenager. Too bad they didn't have Bugs back then to add stature to his height. But he was just tall enough to be Shane-and that is all that matters. Come back!

When we moved to San Diego, we went to 36 Padre games the first year. And on picture day, we lined up with thousands of other fans, to get our pictures of the players. Being guided by an usher we had befriended, we ended up first in line and on the field. Fun for all, they even used Christopher in one TV commercial. But looking at the pictures after getting them developed-yes, it was that long ago, we noticed that the pictures Christopher took were all looking up. Whereas all ours were looking at. And then we started to laugh-that was how he saw things, as he was only nine years old at the time, and that was how he saw the ballplayers. Not yet adult height, he still would have looked up to Alan Ladd. And it made all the players seem taller than they really were.

Perception is what we are talking about, and in today's world it can be a form of truth that rivals the truth. It is not always what you see, but how you see it that matters. And in today's world Alan Ladd would not be short, but vertically challenged. A politically correct way of saying short, invented by someone who was one can vertically challenged of a six pack.

King David had a challenge as a teenager with the armies of Gath-the Philistines. After being given the choice of their best men fighting the Philistines best warrior, David was chosen. A teenager. And his opponent-Goliath. Nine feet tall, 12 fingers and toes, and bad breath. On paper, and in the ring, no doubt who the victor would be. But David, when questioned about why he carefully chose five smooth rocks, looked up at his army mates, and assured them, "God was with me against the bear, he fought for me against the lion, why would I worry now?" Twelve toes, big deal. Nine feet tall, just makes a better target. For David didn't look at the situation like we do, but through God's eyes, and in them no one was bigger or better than God. You see, you and God make a majority. And God never loses, so it is best to be on His side. And of course, David's victory is legendary, and inspirational to all short people, and those short sided, too.

You may be waking up already this morning to a giant obstacle in your life. No way you can overcome it. Look not at the situation, but look to the cross. Look to God, and let Him handle it. And let Him means let Him. He will be your sword, and also your shield. He will defeat your enemies, whether physical or spiritual. The victory is promised, now go win! If God is for you, who can be against you?

Poor Alan. When the cameras quit shooting, he was still only 5'4". Your perception of the problem will only change when you see it through God's eyes. Maybe that is why He tells us to come as children. Children look up to Him quickly when a problem arises, rather than suffering through our own understanding. Good idea.

The cameras are ready, the scene is set. And God is directing. The performance you give will be based on how you follow His cues, and how you follow His directions. LIGHTS! He is light! CAMERA! See it through God's eyes! ACTION! Follow God! You may not win an Academy Award, but your actions may inspire many. It's all how you perceive Him. The Israelites saw a giant, David saw God.

Who you see will tell us who you are, and where you are going.

Jesus Christ-fact, not perception. At any angle-the winner! The envelope please...

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

it's june again at the Cleaver residence

I'm glad that June Bronson Cleaver wasn't my mother. Too many rules and manners. She just didn't get boys, and I think if she had her ways the two wouldn't have grown up so boyish. Thankfully Ward intervened, and if you stop and think for a moment, you'll see my argument. June was a whiner-the shoes are dirty, Beaver's shirt is untucked, and why would boys want to play ball when they can read a book? Ward-do something! Before they turn out normal! Maybe it was too much Aunt Martha in her, and not enough Uncle Billy-remember the lady who thought Beaver should wear short pants to school? Or send Wally away to boarding school? Double beds on a honeymoon. Thankfully they turned out more Cleaverish than Bronsonish, I don't think "Then Came Bronson" came from her side of the family. Well, hang in there.

Now I am not anti-milk and cookies, or manners either, but June was not prepared for boys who will be boys. Or boys who would be bikers. And when you listen to Ward's responses to many of her statements, you wonder who was raising who! And why didn't you ever see any motorcycles at the Cleavers? Could you imagine Eddie saying, "my what a nice tattoo you have Mrs. Cleaver, it goes with Mr. Cleavers new Panhead." When he really married a Knucklehead.

There was a reason the show was called Father Knows Best, because Margaret Anderson didn't. Who would name their kids Princess and Kitten-at least they were girls. And at least Bud rides motorcycles! Maybe he knew best. Could you see Donna Stone, whose husband was a doctor letting Jeff ride? Just for your knowledge, one of Mary's friends was TV Tommy Ivo, drag racer, so at least speed snuck in the backdoor. Just not on two wheels. And after his homework was done. And never on a school night. Could you see Harriet Nelson not having Ozzie? By the way, what did he do for a living? Almost like raising three boys, true Americana all the way down to the eagle on the mantle. But somehow Ricky got involved in rock and roll-I still believe motorcycles are safer. What do you think Oz?

The closest TV mother I can relate too may have been Lassie's mom, Timmy's mother. She lived on a farm, and was used to birthing piglets, mending fences, and sending Lassie out for help, while keeping the kitchen clean and baking pies in between tornadoes and mending quilts for poorer ladies in the valley. And they had a truck to haul bikes in, was it just me or did that one ton Dodge's wheels always seem to rotate the wrong way? I could see her cow trailing, maybe on an old Triumph Cub, and sending Lassie to get help when the bike wouldn't start 50 miles from home. Cool mom. I just don't see her and June at the bridge club. Or at the feed store either. Somehow the smell of fresh baked cookies mixed with the smell of two-stroke oil was forbidden in June's kitchen. "Ward, you didn't tell me milk came from those dirty cows! The milkman always brought it from the Martin's Farm. Timmy and Lassie's? But it always looked so clean, what am I going to put on my oatmeal?" And the drama continues, never at a loss for a new storyline.

Another mom you may know was only about 15 when she gave birth. A very famous mother, who the Catholics worship, the Beatles sang about, and has lent her name to millions of Latin women. Of course I am talking about Mary, the mother of Jesus. And I think she was a great mom. But of course, she had a great son. But what made her great, was when God told her she would have a son, and still be a virgin, and He would save the people from their sins, the Bible says "Mary pondered these things in her heart." She meditated on them, and sought God in the situation. She didn't lean on her own understanding, and although the son she would have was perfect, and without sin, she knew she wasn't, and that He was born to die-that He was the Savior God had promised. And always lived with that thought, that someday He would die. And at the cross, she was there-loving her son no matter the consequences, while others including most of the men were absent. Mary drew her love from God, and I don't think anything would have fazed her. I can only imagine the talks she and Jesus must have had. And because of Jesus' real father, this may have been the best version of "Father Knows Best" ever made.

So be patient with your mother today. Somehow she has the style of June, the medical connections of Donna, the soul of a rock and roll Harriet, and the toughness of Ruth Martin, baked in an apple pie. And patience, that she learned from having you. But she also has the love for you of Mary, a special love only a mother can have. A gift God has given her for her children. A love not found on Hallmark Days, but everyday. So let today be a special day and love on your mom. Ride carefully, and maybe take her along. Be more of a Cleaver than a Bronson. And when you are confronted by those aren't, tell them, "Well, hang in there." "Then Came Beaver" still sounds better than "Leave it to Bronson." June Bronson that is.

But Mary's way of pondering the things of God is still best. Not the perfect mother, she just had the perfect son. A wish for all those sons and daughters out there, from the mothers who love us. Now that's something to think about.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the job or the paycheck

Despite the current propaganda about jobs, men and women are still being laid off daily. And as this occurs, we sometimes forget that for each person jobless, it represents a household whose life has been put on hold. It represents a son who can't play Little League, a daughter missing piano lessons, or a wife cutting back, so her family can eat. It is people whose lives are changed because of a fiscal situation, one that comes with no ending date, and no real assurances of how they will struggle through it. It means raiding the savings, if they have one, and cancelling the vacations. Looking out for each other rather than looking out for themselves, and reaching deep within, without realizing it and seeing what their character really is. It means going without, and being humbled, in a society that prides itself on pride, and on ourselves. Look at any group picture, and the one you look for first is yourself. Human nature. Listen for the list of names being called, and you can hear yours above the noise. And now in trying times, we are being called to look out for others, and listen to them.

When I encounter men who have lost their jobs, often times they initially are complaining. They tell how much they miss their jobs, and what are they going to do. And although I feel for them, the question I ask tells me more about them than they wish to let us know. "Do you miss your job, or do you miss the paycheck?" And at first I was surprised to hear they missed the paycheck. But almost without fail, they all answer the same. They don't miss the job, they miss the paycheck. They were only working towards an end, and if no compensation was involved, wouldn't have done it. And some were doing it for many years. And I find that a certain sadness comes over me when I hear that. Four years of college, a Masters Degree, climbing the corporate ladder, and achieving success. When the whole time their career was hanging in the balance. And all that matters was the paycheck? Which by the way, is never enough. Ever talk to anyone who was making too much? Didn't pay enough taxes? Or just wanted to give it all away, they had reached their goals and dreams?

Yet today, among the uncounted in the working classes, are a group of men and women who have devoted their lives to their life's calling. They are called missionaries, and they place their job, their vocation, and their lives way above any compensation. I know men and women who were teachers, and quit to minister. I have met six figure CEO's who gave it up to volunteer, and found out that no money could satisfy the compensation found in serving. These men and women, along with their families work unusual, and long hours. Often without even minimum wage compensation, or benefits. But it is the calling, and their obedience in trusting God that makes them a success. And I contrast two people here.

Father Al had a young man, very credentialed, approach him at the Flight 93 Memorial Chapel at Shanksville. This man told Fr. Al how he wanted to serve, and how he felt God was leading him there. Thinking this man may be an answer to his prayers, he interviewed the man.

"How much is the salary?" the candidate asked. "There is no salary, we live on donations, and trust God," was the answer.

"How about benefits?" There again none. And sadly, the man left, he had been looking for a position with pay, rather than a ministry and being compensated by God. Even sadder is the fact he will find what he is looking for. Such are the ways when the world invades the church.

The other is about Mother Teresa. Being interviewed in an insect ridden, bug infested hospital in India, with dysentery the norm, the reporter exclaimed, "I wouldn't do what you're doing for a million dollars." To which she replied, "Either would I." For unlike the professional servant, her heart was linked to God, and any compensation would be paltry compared to what the world has to offer.

Remember these missionaries in your prayers today. And us local guys, too. Choosing to follow God upsets your career goals, can wipe out your 401k, and make your family think you have gone crazy. But God offers something that no income can provide-security. A peace that surpasses understanding. For when you are truly called by God, He provides for you. Jesus told His disciples to only take what they have on them, He will provide food and a place to sleep. Not always the Hilton, like some ministries have gotten used too. Sometimes a Motel 6 is a huge upgrade. Where a three course meal is when you Supersize the fries. But we never starve, and you won't see God's called ones begging. In His economy, He raises up those with money and things needed to provide for others, thus blessing both the giver and the receiver. Find that one in a book on economics. Some skills only prepare you for a job, but God prepares you for a life. The number one skill involved-obedience. Trust God and watch how He will use you. And as the Bible tells us, you can't take it with you, but you can send it ahead.

Listen to God and invest in these servants today. Be a blessing and be blessed. And if that still small voice is telling you to serve-obey it. Do we miss our regular paychecks? Of course, but we would never go back to what it cost us to get them. Out of a job, God is always hiring. Your decision, is it about the job, or is it about the paycheck? We will know your character by the decision you make. As for me and my family, we will serve the Lord!

For what do you have that God has not provided?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

traces of love

There is a fine line between history and memories for me. For me, memories are what I remember, and anything before that is just history. And watching those who attend the Orange County Vintage Bike Meet the first Sunday of each month, I am finding out I am among the senior group-not quite historic yet, but my memories go back as far as anyone's. I vaguely remember Vellocettes, probably because we had no local dealer, and sad, the two that were there were clean, but very few could relate to them. It seemed most memories were gathered around Triumphs of the sixties, and the Japanese bikes of the seventies. But most seemed to be content in the early eighties. And as I listened, you could tell the story teller's age, and also how precious riding was to him, by his memories, as this was group of mostly men who loved to ride, and loved motorcycles.

It seems we all had a bike that you would fill the oil, and check the gas. I listened to Ray describe running out of gas in 1970, on his 68 Triumph, and how it was the first time he had ever used paper money to fill his 3 1/2 gallon tank, it had never taken a dollar before! I remembered how I felt bad when the pump jockey would come out for 60 cents of gas. Walking by a rather personalized H2 Kawasaki-at least he thought it was pretty, and smelling the two stroke oil among the haze reminded me how good racing castor smelled. And how old girl friends hated it! I guess you if you think the smell of racing castor would make a great cologne you understand. Hearing more ring a ding dings from RD 400's than I had in years, I remembered about lessons I had learned on how fast these little bikes were, and how what two strokes gave up on displacement, they made up in power. Until they died. But mostly the crowd was interested in the Hondas and Kawasakis of the early eighties. And my Suzuki GS1000 was right on the edge. And in some ways stood out, as it is as original as it can be. And when I would tell an admirer that only the tank was repainted, you could tell the sadness, a sorrow that it wasn't all original, so I quit mentioning it. It went from the pretty Suzuki with the painted tank, to the all original GS. Just by never mentioning the tank. You might say, making my own history that day. And among all the Kerker pipes, old leather jackets, old and faded 40 year old t-shirts, and bored girl friends trying to look interested, we all had a good time. And I can't wait to go next month and see new friends I made last week. And listen to the stories they tell, and flood my files with more memories. And maybe even get some history mixed in with those memories. But for now, like on the ride home, my mind is filled with memories of bikes, rides, roads, and all the events that make motorcycles a lifestyle for many of us. And how the memories get older, but the kid who rode back then doesn't. Adults by age only, never in our hearts.

From a historical standpoint it is hard to argue with Jesus. Every religion talks about Him, and even old historians mention Him. From teacher, to rabbi, to carpenter, to devoted son, it seems all religions agree-He did exist. Some even will talk of His death on the cross, although some try to pervert it. But where the line gets drawn, is perhaps best shown when Jesus asked Peter who he said he was. "Thou art the Christ!" Peter answered, and Jesus told him he had answered correctly. But sadly, so many so called Christians, denominational types, and cults deny Him His deity. For being both God and man is what made Him unique. The true son of God who died on the cross for our sins. A fact of history, not of memory.

While home sick one day, a representative of the Watchtower Bible and Tract Society-a Jehovah Witness came to my door. And before the man could give me the literature they pay for, I asked him the same question Jesus asked Peter. And he denied Christ, and started on his cult's diatribe. I told him it is sad he is going to hell, but it is his choice-and God doesn't want him to go, and either do I. And he doesn't have to! Rather than debate, or argue-note to those of you who do, read 2John, I kept insisting he was going to hell without Jesus. Shaking my hand he left, and as I watched, stood with both hands on the hood of his car-thinking. And I hope considering what I had said, as I don't want him to go to hell. That is why Jesus died-and yes, Jesus is deity! He is God! A simple fact, shown in love.

Some know all about Jesus, but only those who believe know Him. It takes faith, just a little, and like the memories yet to be made with new motorcycle friends, Jesus wants to be part of your life. He knows who He is, and wants to know you personally, not just about Him. Whether repainted or in need of paint, He will restore you, and make you a new creature in Him. So when you get together with other new creatures, you all have Him in common. Let the cults have their ideas, you have truth. Only found in Jesus.

Let the memories begin.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

now more than ever-ask the man who owns one!

Cruising down the 15 the other afternoon, standing out among the dull colored grey and black jelly bean shaped cars, was this beautiful, blue Packard. Now Packards have always stood out, in the heyday of luxury and Classics, they were among the top cars to be owned. Built to a standard, instead of a price, they were what luxury was all about, and many a young man heading up the corporate ladder was known to have said "someday I'll own a Packard." And with that same majesty, here was one, cruising at the speed limits over 70 years later. But what had initially caught my eye was its color-one that stood out from even the conservative dark Packard colors.

And at first I thought what an interesting color for this old car, one of the Seventeenth Series, Packard reluctantly added model years to their cars, referring to them as the series from which they had been engineered, (much like Mercedes Benz refers to their cars today, like the 220, 211, 203, 230, etc.) And it turned out it was a 1939, a convertible sedan, like the yellow one Evelyn Mulwray drove in Chinatown. But instead of a light yellow-one of my favorites, this car was the most beautiful light blue, and just the opposite of the other Packard blue, which was so dark it appeared black. And in addition to the color, the other things glowing were the smiles of the old couple driving it, beaming like the blue, as they were enjoying driving their Packard. And like the old ad advised, did they like their Packard? "Just ask the man who owns one."

Now I have this thing for Packards, and was looking through Classic Car that night. And here was a story about another Seventeenth Series car, a sedan. Painted the same color! A special springtime color, it had a metallic to it, just a reminder to those of you who think all cars were black back then. Pottery Blue Iridescent-what a beautiful name for a beautiful color-on a beautiful car. Perhaps the perfect spring color, and with its wide white wall tires, this car just bloomed with spring! Like a shinny Easter Egg on display.

But sadly too many think Easter is about bunnies and eggs. And it is time for their other bi-annual trip to church for these CEO's-Christmas and Easter only attendees. But God chose this time of year, Passover, a time of redemption, to show His love to us. It was a sad Friday-at least at the time, for Jesus. One week earlier He had been greeted in Jerusalem with cheers of "Hosanna," save us, and in less than one week the same crowd was yelling "Crucify Him!" His treasure had sold Him out for 30 pieces of silver-the price of a wounded slave, and even His staunchest supporter, Peter, had denied Him to a teenage girl. And none of them could be found that Friday, at the cross.

But what a difference three days makes. As the disciples found His tomb empty. He has risen, just like He said! And that is why we celebrate Easter today-it truly is a Resurrection Day! And you can be too, just like Jesus promised.

To have Easter, you must first have a Good Friday. You must die to self, and give your life over to Christ. And then you will be raised with Him upon death. Your life, which may be a series of Good Fridays-bad times, loss of friends, and other woes, will be turned into Easter-changed forever, and defeating death! More to life than eggs and bunnies could ever represent.

And so Packard chose the perfect springtime color for this convertible. Two doors of glory, still alive, resurrected if you would, celebrating spring and a new birth. And after a harsh winter, what a pretty car to see. If you aren't celebrating today, maybe you need some resurrecting too. Dump the old, and put on the new! Seek Jesus, and watch as your sad Friday turns into a good one-and then how Easter causes you to celebrate the risen savior-Jesus!

No matter the color of your car, today is a great day to celebrate Jesus. And if you are looking for a new color, let me point you to this Seventeenth Series Pottery Blue Iridescent! A color that reminds me of new life! And may I suggest a savior-Jesus, who will give you new life. First and last in a series, the Alpha and the Omega! A classic savior-and you don't have to wait for Easter!

Ask the men who know Him!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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