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My first boss when we moved to So Cal, was Gary. He was raised in Garden
Grove, which he referred to as Garbage Grove, with no affection. Part of his
territory was from San Diego and into Orange County, taking him back there. A
day that every two weeks he hated to do. It turned an 8 hour day into a 12 hour
day, and combined with being stuck in traffic on the San Diego Freeway, wore out
his clutch leg. Which would always heal just in time for the next trip. Sadly
his whole opinion of Orange County was based on this freeway and these
trips.
I met Fred through Milton, who both were reps for Datsun back in the
sixties. Fred also grew up in Orange County, and one day while riding with him
he took us back through the places he used to ride. Before they were all turned
into 6 house an acre developments. And we went on many old, back roads, which
when compared with Gary's ride, was much different. The memories were great, at
times we felt like we had been there. Somehow only 30 miles separated where the
two grew up, but they were more than 30 miles in different opinions and
outlooks.
I have a friend who goes to church as a social duty. In between raising
kids, having a career, and maintaining a family, he somehow finds 90 minutes
each week for God. The church doesn't matter, just so long as it is easily
accessible, non-threatening, expects nothing of him, and he doesn't have to
sing. Sadly he gets out of it every bit that he puts into it. And his life
shows. Just don't tell him. He's in denial. No names mentioned here, you all
know of someone like this, or are that someone.
I also have many friends who love to attend church. We love to worship,
and the music is sung to Jesus, not just the songs the choir director likes.
You can even hear the drums, and all instruments, not just the woman leading
with guitar. It is alive, because they are alive in Christ. And add great
teaching, and you find a church that is growing in God's love. Not about
numbers, about Jesus. Not about cancelling services, but about Jesus. We are
there because we want to be. Where Wednesday night is as important as Sunday
morning, because when you walk with Christ, you need that midweek fix. You need
to be filled, and you want to be filled. Although it is only three days, you
are hungry for more Jesus, and to spend more time with your friends in
fellowship. And just like the two Orange County expatriates, the value of the
experience is based on the attitude. We get to go, we don't have to!
My early views of California were one of it's a freeway. Which are really
just big surface streets to us. And travelling this weekend, I spent a night in
Tulare, in Central California's valley. A place where you only get off for gas
and food, then back on, and never get to see the town. Or even realize it has
one. But this Saturday morning was different. I was going to the rally at
Hanford for old bikes. So I rode my old bike, the 1978 Suzuki. Which on
Saturday morning, at 8am, decided not to start-it would need a battery. Calling
roadside, they sent out someone to jump start me. Then called back to say they
were on the way, not the hour wait they told me. Which Kevin the motel manager
handled for me. While watching my helmet and jacket. While loaning me tools I
didn't ask for-he offered when he heard me ask a construction man if he had a
socket set. Which he gave me before the other man showed up-with more tools.
When the tow truck driver showed up, the battery tested bad. He told me the
Wal-Mart was not far, and he said he would take me over when I asked. After he
called in, in case he got another call. Where I got the battery, where a young
guy actually knew how to fill it, and did, and using more borrowed tools,
installed it, and made the show, some 25 miles away, by 930-am! All this only a
few blocks off the highway, but a few blocks that changed my attitude towards
Tulare forever.
And helped me with my walk with God. When it first wouldn't start, I got
mad. For about 5 seconds. Then knowing God, He reminded me how this would all
work out for my good. And it did. From my roadside club, to the motel manager,
to the tow truck operator, to the guy at Wal-Mart servicing the new battery, God
had them all in place-just when I needed them. A reminder, that He is so much
more than just for Sunday mornings-He does Saturday mornings, too. And wants to
do every day, every hour, and every minute of your life. Would you let
Him?
My bike could have died anywhere, God allowed it to happen where He had
already set up a pit crew, a team of people, to help this stranger. A team of
Good Samaritans, to minister to one of God's broken children. So take the time
to find a good church. Then get involved. Grow in Christ, and watch as your
attitude changes. You may be stuck in traffic and not know it, let Jesus guide
your ride. Just like so many towns along the freeway, they are made up of
communities, which are made of neighborhoods, which are made up of neighbors-who
are you and me! Who will show hospitality to strangers when needed, just like
Jesus did, and does. And is ready when you need Him-just ask! Trust God
today. Enjoy life more. For life is more than a freeway through life, it is
knowing Jesus Christ. Where there is always room at His inn, help is just a
prayer, or phone call away, and He meets your every need-long before you know
what you need. An important lesson relearned in Tulare, just two blocks off the
freeway. A team of Samaritans who don't ride, who showed up and helped someone
who does. Not even knowing they were sent by God as angels of mercy that
morning. What a great parable that would make.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com