you are a stranger only once

 Listening to a man talk the other night about all his travels, it soon became apparent that although we had been to the same places, we had been to completely different places. After a few sentences it became apparent that his travel had been mostly for business, and a trip for him was a ride to the airport, a flight to another airport, renting a car, going to a nice hotel, and eating within the confines of it, or whatever places the desk clerk or concierge recommended. Strangely he had left home, but never gone anywhere. His peer group were all fellow travelers, and he never really got out and met the locals. He may have been to Illinois, to Chicago, but never was to Troy. If you think Denver is Colorado, you are wrong, try the western slope and see real Colorado. He had been to San Francisco, and even taken a taxi downtown, but most of his activities were based around airport motels. He was a business traveler, who complained his wife was overdue for a vacation, maybe he would take her to Vegas, or an extra day in Dallas, scheduled around his meetings. And the more he seemed to brag, I felt sorrier for him, he missed America, and didn't know it. He had seen the country from a first class seat on a 747, but never travelled first class among the people. He had been everywhere and nowhere, and with many free air miles to burn, would continue on his endless sojourn, never realizing he had never gone anywhere.

I always thought working in a motorcycle shop would be the best thing-all the bikes, discounts, and all the bikes. But as guys stopped in while out traveling, I became homesick for the road, for a motorcycle takes you places, away from airports, other tourists, and chain hotels and restaurants. Away from work, and all the things that you once thought were important. I missed the road. So I ride, a freedom that I continue to enjoy today. For some, a freeway exit instead of the name of a road. A step below this air traveler is those who frequent the interstates-never leaving home, with only an endless stream of homogenized motels and familiar restaurants to show for their travels. They may see America from the seat of a motorcycle, but they miss America.

I love this country, and all the small towns. I have had great meals at places called Mom's, and slept on great beds in locally owned motels. I have been given inside info on great roads, and had them call a friend if I needed a favor. Fellow travelers all, some just taking care of us who are passing through. Giving service that would rank them high in AAA, but owning or running businesses that AAA overlooks. The rating they are given is a better reference to me, it is one of the heart. Not of the wallet or airport visited. The only postcards you can have from these places are pictures you take yourself. And one night stands out, a hot summer night, among the cornfields of Illinois. A locally owned, older motor lodge, just blocks from the freeway, but decades away all the same. As we all sat in the humid evening on the porches, we could have been inside in the cool AC. But as the owner brought around cold lemonade, and pretzels and popcorn, and as we all sat and visited, the kids chased lightning bugs, and we all talked. Not of anything important, but just folks doing what folks do when they meet, we visited. And talked of our travels, and roads we took and places we ate. And sharing stories that others had told us, more impressed by their tales than any travel brochure that could entice us to travel. It was America, seen from a porch on an old glider on a hot night, not AAA rated-they don't have a high enough rating for places like these.

I watch people in church, as I do at other places. And you can tell those that are there, and those who are somewhere else. Or wish they were. Visiting the building, doing office work, day dreaming, or just passing the time until their next appointment. Singing the songs, but missing out on the worship. Hearing the scripture, but failing to meet the man who it is all about. For many church is just a religious hour on Sunday, a place to go so they don't feel guilty. But short change themselves, as they never get to spend time with Jesus. They fail to learn that He taught in the synagogues, but ministered out on the road. They think missions is going around the world, where it can really be just across town, or across the table. They see God through a denomination's eyes, never getting to know Jesus. They have been there, but have been nowhere, and don't get it. They are the weary traveler looking for the best AAA rated room, by-passing a warm welcome available to them. Been there, done that, even have the t-shirt to prove it-just never making the connection.

It is good to go to church, but it is of little value if your mind and heart are elsewhere. Just like the weary airport traveler, they become hardened rather than hearkened, missing the call of Jesus in their life, and missing out on great roads. Great times, and more to come. This Sunday try something different-just don't attend church, spend time with Jesus. Sing the songs to God, and let the words have meaning. Take your Bible, and turn to where the pastor is teaching. Let it take you other places, and make you look forward to the next service. Don't rush out after, meet those around you, let them be an encouragement to you-so you too can be one someday.

Next weekend take a trip on back roads, eat at local places, and stop and see small towns. Destination-wherever the road takes you. Walk the sidewalks instead of the malls, which after walking them to rehab, it doesn't matter where you are, they are all the same. And all inside, too. Get out and see life, roll down the windows and smell the cows-if you must be in a car. Turn off the radio, and turn on your other senses-and let God fill your day with pleasant memories. Chat with the waitress, and learn about the area. All it takes is the first step...your choice. How far you go and what you see is up to you...the same with your relationship with Christ. So many roads, so little time...and yes, so much more of Jesus to experience them with. Start living...the road you are on just got more interesting. For life is more than a freeway exit-it can be a road you never want to get off!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

CCC-complaint, cause, and correction

I listened yesterday as a man complained to this woman that "this was the third time I brought in my product, and you fixed it, and now it has the same problem again." And as she tried to console, or at least help this man, I was reminded how much I don't miss listening to customers whining and crying. Because they don't listen. After he left, she was going to do it for free, I spoke with her. I simply said "he has the same symptoms, but after listening he has had different problems." The key word here is symptoms. My back was sore and misdiagnosed as a pinched nerve, which really was my aortic aneurism. Same problem-not to me! My Striple wouldn't start the other day after a short ride. Jumped it ok, and when I got home, started fine. Battery? You would be wrong, it seems Triumph is recalling faulty voltage regulators, which affect the charging of the battery. If Mick hadn't called me that morning to tell me about it, I would have spent good money on a battery, and not fixed the problem. So here in these three examples we have two sets of problems, one-not properly diagnosing the complaint, or the symptom, and two, after misdiagnosis, not fixing the cause. Usually due to misdiagnosis. Putting a bandage on the symptom and hoping that will fixes the problem. My 26 staples and 12" scar had no bandage.

I was good at dealing with problems like this because I asked a lot of questions. "When does it make that noise?" "All the time," "will it do it now?" "No only when cold," and suddenly you got to the truth of the matter, and could fix it. And when we did we all looked good, the customer was happy, and told others. Sadly when we failed they would tell others, too-just twice as many. Bad news you always get.

And if it isn't fixed right, no matter how much you paid is too much. We had the motor rebuilt on the RMZ450, and they discounted it to us quite a bit. But today it leaks coolant and oil, and when I brought it to their attention, they got upset with me-"we gave you a discount." That I didn't ask for, I wouldn't have taken it if it meant a discount in performance to match. And I will never go back there, and if you want to know who, contact me. Seems the old saying about "taking care of those that feed you, fix your bike, and cut your hair" has more importance. Take care of them. Don't ask for a discount or tell them how to do their work. And old friends are just that, for relationships take time. And involvement. This first shot on the Suzuki showed me a lot. I will never return there-ever! First time your fault, second time mine, another old saying.

A lot of religious types out there today claiming to be Christians. Warning about the Mayan calendar end of the world date, do you have plans for December 22nd? Our annual Chocolate party is the 23rd? Remember May 21st of 2011-we are all still here, I am. You see Jesus Himself even warned that many will come in my name, but beware, wolves in sheep clothing. Such a deal they have for you. And some religions even take His name in their name, but deny His deity and mislead others, perverting the gospel for their own needs. Some claim you don't need Jesus, be a good person, and you'll get to heaven, only good is never good enough. Ever miss an A when you only scored an 89, a B+? So we are faced with many lies that sound true, knowing that truth is the basis of all lies. Just changing one word in scripture, like JW's do, can make a difference, again denying the deity of Jesus. Some call Him great teacher, prophet, and other accolades, but Jesus confronted Peter and asked, "who do you say I am?" And Peter answered, "though art the Christ, the son of God!" "What else could Jesus say but "you have answered well." An A+ answer, and even in a pass/fail test, he passed. Would you?

Who do you say Jesus is? Do you call Him Lord and Savior? Is it personal, is He your friend? Or are you stuck on what your church teaches, or believes, and mired in religion when you could have it all in Jesus? No religion, or even Martin Luther's Reformation started out to be less than what they had, they all promised greater things in God-and eventually went off in their own direction, becoming religious. Only in Jesus do you find the best, all other things are lies.

So what's your problem? Tell it to Jesus, talk with Him, and tell Him all the symptoms. His answer will deal with the problem, which often is you, and give you the solution. Now it is up to you to make the choice, to follow or to fail. Your answer will tell those around you who you say Jesus is. And in the matter of salvation, only 100% right passes, all others fail. "But they seemed so nice..." The truth will set you free, just like finding the cause will help solve the problem. We used a simple CCC system, complaint, cause, correction. Complaint is your symptom, cause is sin, and Jesus is the answer. The correction, the correct answer. Once you know the cause, it can be fixed. Sin is the problem, Jesus is the answer. And your answer is?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the rain, the park, and other things

My first encounter with a hurricane was when I was in first grade, circa 1960. Riding home on the bus, I had gotten within one block of home when a good sized tree fell on the bus. None of us was hurt, but the bus was in for some heavy repairs. And I remember never feeling quite as safe in one after seeing it fold up around me, and I learned a new respect for the trees I used to climb as a kid. During that same storm a huge Weeping Willow tree blew over behind our house, uprooted, and so big that it laid for years until they built the new housing development. It exposed a root system so big that it was over six feet tall just to climb over it and onto the tree to shinny up it, as it laid on its side. And left a huge hole where it once had stood tall.

I worked for the Union County Park Commission one summer, when the rains hit. We were cleaning iris beds, and other enviable tasks in Greenbrook Park in Plainfield, when a flash flood occurred. We actually rode the rising water in the creek a 1/2 mile, ending up waist deep in the middle of a field. Dangerous, but fun, again I saw the power of a storm, and yes, the next few days we picked up branches and other debris from the storm. Bus covers children, tree covers bus, but a storm covers them all.

I was 19 years old and working at a receiving platform for Sears in Watchung. The truck court was underground, with a long ramp going down to it. As the rains came in bunches, and it ran furiously down the side of the hills across the highway, where once trees stood, now only asphalt parking lots were, with nothing to hold it back, until it hit the center median on Route 22, then spilled over the top. On one side semi truck were tire deep in water, the other side cascading over, then down the ramp, and flooding the truck court. Lots of damage to goods, and we actually rescued some people from their cars, but a co-worker and friend Keith was drowned when his car got stuck and the waters engulfed him. Suddenly it wasn't fun any more. Surf's up, Keith went down.

I have ridden many times in rain, and endured two flash floods on one trip a few years back. One in Ohio had the water up over the engine on the Tiger. Pulling off the exit ramp it got deeper, then as I rode up the road, subsided. Pulling into a gas station, on higher ground, I got off just as the thunder roared, and the lightning hit the bowling alley next to me. So much for my safe haven...I've seen fire and I've seen rain...

Then on my return trip home I had just eaten at Lucille's in Weatherford, Ok. Great food, but storms to the west-where I was headed. It was windy, but the next exit it started to rain-hard. Pulling off, a group of us on bikes put on our rain suits, then headed out again. but I pulled off the next exit, blowing around was unsafe, and when a FedEx semi blew across two lanes, I took the hint. Again rain up to my tank, and riding slow, never stopping, pulled into the Route 66 Museum in Clinton. Where a HOG group from Arizona had found shelter, and did the museum until the rain stopped. The wind would take another 250 miles into Tucumcari before I could ride not leaning over.

We are told the rain falls on the just and the unjust. It isn't people specific, it just rains. But the God who controls it is, He hears our prayers. And acts accordingly, not dependent on us asking or demanding. The true power of prayer isn't in prayer, if it was the prayers would be longer, louder, more reverent, and perpetual. But the true power is found in the one who hears and answers them, the one who controls the wind, and rain. The one who is with us in the storm-Jesus Christ. It may not be the time to correct someone in the midst of the storm, but to remind them of the one who can still the storm. Who can walk across it in high winds and strong waves. The one who can answer is always stronger then the one asking. Sometimes just a HELP! is enough, and God isn't waiting for me to ask before He acts. Good thing, so much happens when I'm asleep.

So the hurricane news, although scary, doesn't scare me-easy enough to say when it's 85 degrees and sunny 3000 miles away. It doesn't scare me because the one I pray to has it all under control, He knows just what He is doing. Do we? Do we want to know? Maybe aligning ourselves with Him would change our prayer time. Worth a try, don't you think?

Stop, look, and listen for God-just like the old rail crossing signs. It took Elijah thunder, and rain to see God wasn't the weather-He was more than the situation. You don't need to be stuck in a cave, or gas station, or museum to find God. Jesus never left you, He is in your boat, on your motorcycle, and calming the storm in your heart-which makes a hurricane seem mild sometimes. Storms will come and go-talk to the one who controls them, and watch as He answers-the true power of prayer is in Jesus Christ. Is anyone listening? His love and power are designed to take the strain out of every day living, and to guide you through the storms.

Hurricanes Andrew, Katrina, Diana, and now Sandy pummel the shorelines. The only shore thing you need to know is God loves you. Your protector in the storm. The umbrella of love over my life. And to celebrate-I'm going riding. It just seems a sin to not enjoy the beautiful day God has given us. No rainbow unless it rains-a reminder from God of His love to a sinful generation. As in the days of Noah....now there is a man who knows storms!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the Pinto-Charlie's Angels drove one

My Dad was a great guy, but cold never be accused of being a car guy. At an age when I first started to identify cars by exhaust sounds, and could tell you the differences between a Chevelle and a Fairlane, my Dad drove Ramblers. I remember his 1962 American wagon, where we could sit on the tailgate after baseball practice-facing away from the car. Color-green, of course. Which was replaced by a 1964 American 440 sedan, again green. Not quite as nerdy, but in the neighborhood I lived in, the Aldingers had a 1964 Chrysler 300-black, and Scottie's brothers had 1965 Impalas, Doug with a 283, and Gary a SS with 327 and 4-on-the-floor. But my Dad finally broke the green syndrome in 1966 buying a Classic sedan, two tone cream and gold. Which would be the car that I took my driving test in, and would be the first car I would drive.

Now even girls knew about Nash seats, which would fold down into a bed, and the Classic had them. Which I never got a chance to use, for right after I got my license, they traded it on a new 1971 Pinto. Again, you guessed it, green, that green color Ford painted every other car in those years. It was a two door, big change for my Dad, with the big 2000cc engine, putting 75 earth shaking horsepower to the pavement. Which later would allow the carburetor to vibrate from the intake manifold. It had a green interior-big surprise, and was vinyl everywhere, from the seats, tot he floor mats-no carpet in this beauty, to the dash and door panels. Which on hot and humid days in Jersey gave me a portable sauna. No Nash seats, just buckets, and with a floor shifter-automatic, at least you could brag about buckets and not having three on the tree. It was designed to seat four, but would take seven in a pinch when the shore beckoned. The heater worked great, melting numerous bags of Tootsie Rolls while driving around when we should have been in school. It was no babe magnet, but my girlfriend liked it-there was a buffer zone between us when driving, and I never got to enjoy a dead arm from driving while embracing her. It finally died when the carb vibrated off the intake, all bolts had come loose, and made a horrible noise before going into the fan. Giving a whole new meaning to the phrase FORD-Found On Road Dead. But when it ran, it beat the Schwinn, had an 8-track, and at $2 per fill-up, was cheap to run.

You never see any Pintos anymore, although they made millions of them, so when we saw one in Menifee at a car show, I couldn't look away. It was like watching a horrible accident happening-over and over, and from the blue 4-banger staring from under the hood, to the plastic not so fantastic interior, I had to keep walking. One look at the older hippie girl who claimed ownership reminded me that some things are better left in the past-or forgotten all together. Definitely not one of Ford's better ideas, but still better than a Rambler. I still wonder about those Nash seats sometimes...

It was humbling to be driving the Pinto, but I have learned over the years I rather be humbled than humiliated. It was rough being the only Pinto among the SS396, Boss Mustang, and Road Runner crowd. When a girl would rate you buy what you drove, I was way down on the horsepower curve, exaggerated when I asked a girl out, who when I picked her up, volunteered to drive us in her Camaro. And I had been humiliated before even driving, like when I fell going up the stairs at our freshmen award assembly in front of the whole school. Co-captain of both football and basketball teams, I wish my jokes could have gotten as big a laugh as my trips did. So pride shows up in the strangest and most unexpected times, so does humility. And as a young Christian my zealousness would interrupt the things of God sometimes. But as I learned to trust God, I felt better sitting in the back row and letting someone else get the recognition. I soon was able to turn my bragging into testimonies, and give God all the credit. But yet as I watch good friends go out and do things for God, and I see them get the recognition, I wonder where is Jesus in their lives? And I wonder, do I come off like that? I don't want to, and find I don't when the Spirit leads-when it doesn't look out humility. And as you become humble, you can't brag about it. Just like when you see the Invisible Man, he isn't anymore, if someone congratulates you on being humble, you aren't any more. So as a friendly warning, and good advice, give it all to Jesus. You didn't save yourself, you can't save others, and without Him you have no power, something to reconsider next time you brag.

I try to put Jesus first when sharing, so He gets the credit-not me. I still get embarrassed when someone says something nice about me-although my ego is fed, my spirit wanes. Pride goes before the fall-and I am tired of falling. When the scriptures say "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me," I take it further. I did all things through Him, I am doing all things through Him, and will continue to. Just like it says-"Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow." "Who was, and is, and is to come." Let man give credit to God-then look forward to hearing from God "well done, my good and faithful servant."

God has allowed me to overcome many things in my life, including the Pinto years. Sin, pride, and poor choices in cars. I can even look back now and appreciate the Pinto over the Rambler, and how He rescued many a girlfriend from those Nash seats. You see He is there even when you don't notice, even before you are saved, protecting you. And He uses the foolish things to His advantage, even a Pinto. And He gets the bragging rights, for no one, no way, would choose Pinto over cool. Or horsepower. Maybe your testimony includes some Pinto time, if not, ask God to humble you , before you are humiliated. The Pinto was never as cool as my Schwinn Sting Ray-but a car none the less. You never forget your first car-never forget your true God. Jesus Christ-all the cool you will ever need. And no Nash seats! The Pinto-which grew up into the Mustang II. Just think-you could have been driving a Pacer!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

wonderful counselor-can you afford anyone less?

I talked with a friend yesterday who has had his bike in the shop over a month, and then they call saying they can't fix it, don't know what the problem is, and it is probably ok to ride. Frustrated he is given some alternatives, with a lesson learned-never go back there. And having been on both ends, as a service manager and a distraught customer, I can empathize with him. So gave him some real world advice. Good advice only works if taken...if I'd have known this 40 years ago...

As a manager we always wanted first shot at fixing a problem. I always told our techs to "autograph your work with excellence," so whoever worked on it next was impressed. But sometimes the customer thinks he is always right, to me a sign of a shop in decline. Imagine coaching the surgeon through open heart surgery. "Don't touch that red thing, what is it anyway?" But first you must take it to someone who is qualified. Give them the proper info, then let them fix it. Unfortunately some customers expect miracles, and on some vehicles that is what it takes. Techs nowadays are not taught to properly diagnose, and won't because they won't get paid for it. A good service manager sees they will-if they are doing their job, if not we have let people go because they are less than professional. But what if they can't fix it the first time? Whose fault is it? The state of California has consumer protection laws, if a vehicle cannot be fixed after being down for 30 days, no matter how many visits, it can be returned or replaced. Not quite that easy, but persistence and a good attorney help. I have dealt with men who overbought, couldn't afford the payments, so made up fake reasons, exposing themselves. I have also dealt with patient people who loved the car, and just wanted it fixed. We finally had to take the attitude that we not only had to fix the car, but fix the customer too. Cars are easier. People don't come with warranties...and in real life that is why doctors and lawyers only practice their trade...and can bury the victim if they lose. Sometimes you may be better off having been born a Pinto, or a Pacer.

Yet we shuttle off to the dealer, sometimes after having been warned not to. Trusting man over God, as if He were just another man to voice His opinion. Too many shop their problems around until they get an answer they like. As Christians we have Jesus, our wonderful counselor to consult first, but usually wait until we can only make the situation worse-they call out in desperation. Never our fault, just accusing Him, "where were you in the first place?" Generally He was holding the life preserver that you wouldn't take. So don't lean on your own understanding, trust God going in. All advice isn't Godly, even if it comes from the church. A few years back they sponsored a Christian writers conference, and I sent in a sample. And never heard back, but I did from God. Who asked me two questions, "where can you find a better editor than me?" and "who is a better publisher than me?" Consider the Bible, who was the editor and publisher? The number one all time best seller. Any complaints, see my boss. He also accepts praise and worship on our behalf. Again Godly advice only works if taken, and we too often look at God in worldly ways. Bringing Him to our level, rather than recognizing who He is, and trying to reach up to His. If you find yourself arguing with God, remember He is never wrong, always right, and can get you out of your situation-if you let Him! Stupid hurts!

So if your bike breaks, your car won't run, or is worse after you tried to fix it, it still is not too late to turn to Jesus. Ask, and He will offer good advice, if He is the wonderful counselor, why settle for anything else? And if you lost great riding time, costing you money and inconvenience, learn the lesson-ask around to those who know, who ride your brand, and whose testimonies are based on God. Maybe that is why I ride more than others-my bikes are rarely in the shop-God has led me to the best, and I have obeyed. Which is better than sacrifice when it comes to riding. Or anything else in life. Why can we always find the time to do it again the second time, when we could have avoided all the trouble by listening to God in the first place?

Today is the four month anniversary of my open heart surgery. God led me to the right surgeon, the right hospital, and the best care. People die from what I had, no second chances. It pays to listen, and obey. Now, what may I ask is your problem? Have you talked to our wonderful counselor? Losers make excuses, Christians have testimonies. The words from your mouth will tell us what choice you made.

love with compassion, out riding, and living,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

it's hard to steer with your front wheel in the air

Wheelies-the front wheel in the air, and stoppies, the rear wheel in the air have become commonplace among today's motorcyclists. Whereas in the past only the brave on a dirt bike, or the rare Evel Knievel type would wheelie, now we see them on the freeways, leaving a stoplight, and other places. Not an unusual sight. Not as common, but still gaining in popularity are stoppies, grabbing the front brake and watching the rear wheel leave the ground. Giving Harley riders an argument for not using their front brake, while they skid past you only using their rear. I have done both, stoppies unintentially, and ended up sitting on the tank. It felt cool, I wish I had known it was coming. Wheelies-well the Street Triple encourages them, and bringing the front wheel up while accelerating in second gear is fun. I don't recommend either one, but I don't discourage them either. They're fun when done right.

My first impromptu wheelie was on BH's CB 750, with Brennan on back. I missed the shift between first and second, and with the engine at redline, hit second-and got hit in the head by Brennan's foot as they left the pegs. Scared me, which I never admitted-but scared him even more-which he did. My other BH example was when he was showing off for a girl-and wheelied the same bike, sans passenger. Watching the young lady watch him, he failed to notice the car in front of him stopping, and brought the front wheel down on the trunk. Unhurt, bike OK, but the cop in the car that he landed on had no sense of humor, or of trying to impress girls, never mind wheelies, and gave him a ticket. Over the years I have had various friends wheelie 15-17 miles at time, I'm impressed, they're nuts. And I wish I had the skill, or at least the courage to attempt either one. Sometimes fear can be a good thing, in my case it probably has added years to my riding, which I consider a fair trade.

On the latest Triumph Explorer I rode, it has traction control and ABS. Which makes skidding and burnouts all but impossible, call it an anti-fun mode. Fortunately it can be turned off. And overall it hasn't made a better rider, but a safer one. Which can't be all bad, but there are times you just gotta wheelie, skid, or stoppie-what good is fun if you don't enjoy it? Yet it is the power that your wrist controls that controls these things also, and for racers wins races. It is hard to steer while wheeling-and without the rear wheel on the ground, no power is getting to the track. And although it looks cool, the winners save it for their victory lap. I could name some exceptions, but will honor their talent by not implicating them. Power under control keeps both wheels on the ground, allows you to use all your braking capability, go faster, steer better, and still have more fun than should be legal.

Power under control is not a new concept, but spoken of for almost 2000 years. God calls it meekness, quite different from the weakness that meekness invokes today. Meekness meant, and still means doing the right thing, although a wrong retaliation would be proper given the situation. We recently were verbally confronted by someone, and it would have been easy to verbally retaliate, but yet we chose to just get up and leave-winning the argument by default. And not causing any further continuance that could be blamed on us. It is the fruit of the spirit, and is listed just before self control-it is a choice you make to control the situation, let it get out of control, or let God deal with it. Meekness allows God to deal with it for you-your choice, because He never forces His way upon you. And just like riding, you get better traction with both feet on the ground, on special footing. Jesus tells us the wise man built his house upon the rock, all else is sinking sand. Remember that next time you lose traction-and the ABS or traction control is slow. Jesus isn't, He has everything under control, and offers this same to you-via your choice to be meek. Power under control, the quality of every race winner, survivor on the street, and Christians everywhere.

To truly enjoy the freedom of the road, you need to keep the wheels turning, and life is also like that. Few have the talents, and even fewer the road to showcase other skills, and for most of us survival is more important than showing off. I don't have to brag about what kind of rider I am, my skills reflect it, and so do the many miles on different types of bikes. Meekness is soft spoken, doesn't brag on itself, and is there when needed, even in emergency situations. And just ask my friend BH who landed on the trunk of the police car. The fine was well over a week's pay for him, the girl kept going, and he had a severely bruised ego. But the story goes on, as does his riding, showing God's mercy and grace. May you keep the rubber side down, the shiny side up, and get every thrill from riding and life you can. Power under control can allow you great wheelies, impressive stoppies, and even a date with the pretty girl. But like my friend Ivan Stewart once said, "it is not the jumps that scare him, it is the landing." Stay on solid ground with Jesus, meekness can be as close as your throttle hand. A marksman is known by his aim, not his arrows. What your life reflects will tell us what you are known by. Power under control...a twist of the wrist for some, a confidence in God offered to all who believe.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the new states

Located here within our wonderful US of A are four states whose first name is New. New Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, and New York, all settled by different groups of people, who were looking for something new, but wishing to incorporate some of the history and traditions of their homeland. Bringing the best of the old, and mixing it with the new, this was the basis of our country. No more of the same only different philosophy, but part of a "new nation, conceived in liberty...where all men are created equal." New in the best sense of the word.

I was part of the New Coke phenomenon when it was introduced. And failed as a product, but won as a marketing gem for Classic Coke. The US of A has laws concerning the use of the word new in advertising, and it could only be new for awhile. It went away long before it ever got old. But yet we have these four states, some enduring over 200 years, with New Mexico celebrating its 100th anniversary this year. And for those of you who tend to think in a blonde mode, New England is not a state, despite it having its own football team. Patriots yes, just not eligible for statehood.

New York, although named after an English town, was really settled by the Dutch-at least New York City was, before the English arrived, they called it New Amsterdam. New Hampshire has the motto of "live free or die," yet is very liberal and votes Democratic. More laws, more government=less freedom. What was old Hampshire like? Then there is New Jersey, or just Jersey. You don't call New York just York, or New Hampshire just Hampshire, and you really are wrong if you call New Mexico just Mexico. Yet Jersey can drop the New, unlike any other state. And if you think Jersey Turnpike when you think of New Jersey, and Bayonne, Jersey City, and some other eyesores of the Garden State, you wonder just how bad was the old Jersey in England? I grew up in Jersey-I can comment. Remember this is the state that when John Lindsay was running for mayor of NYC was know to comment, "Keep New York clean, dump your trash in New Jersey." Cleverly disguised as the Meadowlands, really a landfill. New? Jersey?

Which brings us to New Mexico, USA. The state I moved to from Jersey. Where they don't speak Spanish, their language is English, like the rest of the US of A, with the possible exception of California. Called the "Land of Enchantment," all you have to do is watch one sunset to know why. Where hi-tech meets old world, home of the Atomic Bomb, the best heart surgeons, and the Navajo Nation, aka the world's largest ghetto. But new it is, and with a culture all its own, a flavor to food all its own, and a beauty unique to itself, although it shares a long border with Mexico. Which we don't call Old Mexico, and we don't refer to Old York, Old Hampshire, or Old Jersey. No Old England sports teams either. Where when something new was started, the old was left behind. A new life, in a new country, with new freedoms.

In heaven we find the city of New Jerusalem. And just like we become a "new creature" in Christ when we are born again, this New Jerusalem will be like no other city on earth. Named after the city which is the apple of God's eye, no more wars, bombs, dissidents, or those who refuse to honor God will be residents there. It will have gold for streets, relegating it to asphalt status. All you gold buyers, do you know you are really just storing up heavenly asphalt? Gates made up of one huge pearl each. And the beauty is like none other ever seen-for no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor mind imagined the things of God. It is an eternal city, with eternal residents. Truly a land of enchantment. But you must be born again to gain access. You must become a new creature in Christ...where behold the old is passed away. Where there is no old to compare it to, and it doesn't even mention any turnpikes.

The ultimate New destination for those looking for freedom, and finding it in Jesus Christ. A final settlement for believers, who are referred to in scripture as sojourners, or those just travelling through this earth. Who have a real destination and homeland which are all the same. And to which we aspire to go to someday. If only you believe.

Believe in your heart, and confess with your mouth that Jesus Christ is God and you will be saved. Yet so many are hard hearted, and refuse Him. Choosing instead to stay the same with the same old sin. And if you consider God harsh for not accepting sinners, remember it is His grace by which you are saved, not of yourself. No sin in heaven, at that time we will fully know God's true justice, thankfully revealed to us in love.

So look ahead, or look up as scripture encourages, the New Jerusalem is closer than it was to us yesterday. Whether from New Hampshire, New York, New Jersey, or New Mexico, or any of its old namesakes, there is no place like heaven. No matter where you are from, it is more important where you are going. Going back to the garden, heaven, New Jerusalem...truly there is no place like home. Not found on any map, only within the kingdom of God.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

buying an old bike

I have been talking with a friend who quit riding almost 30 years ago and is getting back into it. For no good reason-there are no good reasons to quit riding, he now wants back in, and we welcome him. He is taking an MSF course, getting his license, and now is looking for a used bike to ride. And of course, he ones he wants are the ones he couldn't afford back then, and as I explain, you may have left motorcycling, but it carried on without you somehow. And what was the hot set-up then, is old when you consider how far technology has come since you abandoned us. Brakes, power, and suspensions will help you become a better rider, and are welcoming you back, too. You'll wish you never left. And as I look back over 41 years, with the exception of three months, owning at least one bike, many an older used bike has come my way.

I have always wanted to buy an older bike, and take the train to get it-out of state, then ride it home. After an insurance settlement two years ago, I took some money for myself and set out to live the dream. Setting a radius of 1000 miles, and a budget of $2500, I set out. Only the train part was too expensive, so I had to fly. Some good choices out there, but you learn to read between the lines, or listen between them. A CB750 in New Mexico sounded too good to be true, and when I started asking questions, it was. This 1972 was also parts from '73, '74, and some other non-Honda parts. Check that off the list. A 1978 GS750E with low miles looked like the deal, until the owner called. He was replacing a leaking valve cover gasket, and found a cam lobe pitted. His conscience wouldn't let him sell it-thanks to him for his honesty. And a 1981 GS1100, a red one, was the choice, except it had a Kerker, a dent in the tank, and some other non-stock stuff. I wanted original-good luck.

But a bike I had first looked at was still available.
A 1978 GS1000E, a first year with low miles, just over 20k, and was all stock, except for the shocks, I learned to live with the Progressives he installed. And just north of Seattle, It was over the 1000 mile goal, extra miles to ride a bonus. So making the deal over the phone with the dealer, who assured me it was OK to ride to San Diego, and ran as good as it looked, I flew up, with him getting me at Sea-Tac Airport. After exchanging money for my new old ride, I took off. I had forgotten how the late 70's were cursed with emissions for motorcycles, would it ever warm up. And what about the brakes-would they stop me? But it did have a comfy seat, a helmet hook, and a center stand-remember when those were standard? So as we got used to each other, it was fine. Only one problem crept up, after riding 108 miles, the speedo cable broke, a $12 item replaced when I got home. And it ran flawlessly the rest of the trip. I rode 1400 miles in two days. I had planned on doing it in four, but it ran so good I kept going. Riding at 80-85, on a bike right at home at today's speeds, but sold when 55 was the law. Finally getting a chance to get up and show her stuff. And we both learned much about old bikes, and as the relationship grew, the difference didn't matter, I was riding her, and she was on the road again. I had never left, she had taken a rest period, and was glad to be out getting the exercise.

There is no good reason to turn your back on Christ. And no matter why you walked out on Him, He never left you, not forsook you. And even though you may have changed, He hasn't and welcomes you back with open arms, not a threatening scowl. For just as there are no good reasons to abandon riding, there are no good reasons to abandon Jesus. So get over all the excuses, and turn to Him today. You will find that you may have changed, but His love hasn't. That although your life situations may have changed, that His love, grace, and mercy for you haven't. and even though at times you felt far away, He was there, just waiting for you to call out to Him. So no matter what excuse you have, Jesus is the answer. Welcome back! We've missed you, and can't wait to have you back in fellowship.

And like my friend, you will wonder while you ever wandered away. For no matter what you substitute, it isn't the same as the real thing. So I can tell you with a great deal of authority, that Jesus, my wife, and motorcycles are where it is at. Nothing else even comes close. You should be riding, and spending time with God. And where better to talk and listen with Him than while riding. Do you think maybe when we talk about the freedom of riding that we really mean the freedom of Christ on two wheels? So whether it has been two days, two weeks, two years, or 30 years-get your priorities right. It Jesus-then all other things. You are just one twist of the throttle away from knowing a freedom that few others enjoy. Let the testimonies begin! If you never leave, you never have to come back. But if you do, remember there is an old bike out there waiting to be rescued, and ridden. It all starts with turning back...to Jesus. Now, why did you quit riding....

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the trade in

You bought it with love, paid all the payments grudgingly over the years. Your kids knew not to eat in it, or play around it. You maintained it, polished it, and garaged it. You loved it and bragged about it to others, then one day it got old. It wasn't a fuel efficient as the new model, the styles had changed, and suddenly the car was considered old-maybe not to you, but as the neighborhood vehicles got newer, yours appeared older. So one day, under the excuse of just looking, you went cruising the car stores, looking for a replacement. WOW how prices had changed, and what once was a house payment, was now a car payment. And your old car, the one you cherished and loved, was now just a tool to bargain with. Sentiment has no value when it comes time to sell, and you finally decide on a price, and drive home with a new car. And the cycle repeats itself....buy for love, and sell for money. Pay retail, sell for wholesale, and then try to explain what a great deal you got to your wife...who may not know cars, but understands value. Who understands form before function, just not when it comes to new car negotiations.

I had had my FJ 1100 for 10 years, and traded it for one of the first new Triumphs-a 1996 Trident. A whole new arena for me, and my friend from many trips, 76,000 miles, and endless memories was being traded. And I wondered would I ever get over it. Which took me 1.9 miles after leaving the dealer, when stopping for gas and I looked at the Trident. This was my new ride. Everything was new, the same roads would be seen from behind a new set of handlebars, and a whole new adventure was beginning. The same only different, and suddenly all the quirks of the FJ were forgotten, with no new rides on it to remember, and many new memories ahead with my new ride. I couldn't go back to it for one last ride, and found I didn't need to or want to. And looked ahead to the many that would follow on the Trident.

The same road, same rider, but a whole new outlook. You go into the same corners different, cruise in maybe a different gear, and hit higher speeds-the same road, but with a new bike, and a changed rider on it. An exciting time, as old expands to new, which expands to more roads, more rides, and more new adventures. Meeting new riders, and sometimes leaving your old riding buddies behind. Who wonder what has happened to you, and you wonder why it hasn't happened to them. And soon you find yourself riding less with them, and more with your new friends, and life is new and exciting, just because of the ride you have chosen to take, and the choices you have made.

I thought I had a good time before I came to Christ. I was enjoying life, doing whatever I wanted, and the joke was that if you died young you made a better looking corpse. And sadly I have known some better looking corpses over the years. But after resisting the invitation that Jesus extended, I finally said yes. And what I once thought was important was found to be foolish. I had a new ride, and even the old roads seemed more exciting. And as I grew in grace, I found that while I often would look back with fond memories, the person that was in them was not the person remembering them. I had changed, the old for the new, and never wanted to go back. I had new memories to make, and was looking forward to making them. Sadly my old friends didn't see it my way, and still don't today. My new life in Christ was a threat to the sin in their life, and as I moved on, they moved back. And I made new friends who had Christ in their life, and suddenly the new riding partners had more skills, more desire, and a new outlook on life, and riding. When it came time to trade, I made a good deal-sin for grace. Death for life. And it was all paid for in advance-just like showing up at the will call window, and the backstage passes were waiting with my name on them.

But what of old friends and old rides? When I run into them, I get excited about my life, but they have little excitement in theirs. Life has interfered with their plans, while Jesus has made mine come true. He gave me life, and showed me a better way. With more to come...but what of old friends? And are you one of theirs? How does your old Yamaha shop look at you as you ride in on a new Triumph? Aren't they both motorcycles, don't you both ride? But sadly something is missing-the common bond is gone, having been brand specific. He used to ride one of ours, but changed.

Make the change to Jesus today. And live a life to encourage others. Be an example to those who don't know God, that by seeing you they want to know God. Ask them along for a ride, and take them places they had never been, but only heard about. Let them experience Jesus for themselves, for love doesn't demand its own way. You shouldn't either. Make a new old riding partner today.

And for those who won't or don't, don't give up on them as you move on. Jesus never gave up on you. They could just be making a testimony to share with others. They'll know when to make the trade. to go from death to life. Just like you did. Today is the day of salvation-any questions, ask God and make it yours today. So many roads, so many bikes, and so many new memories to make. Make them in the Lord.

When riding my 1978 GS1000, after riding a new bike, I wonder "how did we ever ride those things?" But I am reminded that the bike will only go where you are looking-so look ahead. For as Satchel Paige once commented, "don't look behind you, the devil may be gaining." I choose to look ahead, and see Christ. Hope you do too.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com