a "Mose" by any other name would still be a "Mose"

I recently read an article about the top 10 collectible Oldsmobiles from the fifties. My personal preference is Toronados, the first ones with the long hoods, and 68-72 442’s, my friend George had a 68, Fucci had a fast 1970, and Richard the last year of that old body style in 1972. All fast cars, ones just an afternoon ride in one today would be a treat. But 1950’s Olds were never my favorite, I tend to like the 1956 Chevies more, as did most of America at the time. But jumping off the page at me as I turned them, was a red and white 1956 Oldsmobile 88 two door hardtop. It was Uncle “Mose”’s car, and I remembered it from riding in the back seat when a teen. I ‘m not sure if he was really my uncle, he was my Nana’s sister’s husband, and my mother’s uncle. Confused, I am. But Uncle “Mose” was a cool guy. Whenever Aunt Evelyn, Nana’s sister would send a card, it was always Aunt Evelyn and Uncle “Mose.” So uncle he was. And his 1956 Olds was his prize. A victim of many afternoons under trees hiding from the summer sun being Simonized, it was the shiniest car I ever remembered. With a certain bubbling noise from the exhaust, nothing at all like my Dad’s Rambler. And coming from a family where cars weren’t the stars, his stuck out. My Grandpa had a cool 1962 black Cadillac Coupe DeVille, and later a 1972 Lemans coupe, he used to shift the automatic floor shifter making us feel like he was racing, and pinning us back in the seat. But other than that, it was sedans, Ramblers, and station wagons. So I was naturally drawn to Uncle “Mose” and his Olds.

My cousin Steve and I would jump at the chance to ride with him on the infrequent family outings, riding in the back seat, while Uncle “Mose” would drive with his arm out the window. His short sleeves rolled up in the custom of cool in the day. He was a muscular man, and the warning was always that he drove fast, and got speeding tickets-the unforgivable sin in this conservative Methodist family. Are you sure you want to ride with him? Let me think, Rambler or fast Olds, where else would this young gearhead get his fix? A chance to go fast and maybe get pulled over? Which only made us want to ride along with him even more. Always on the lookout for the motor cop out to get him, for we were all sure they knew the car, and were just waiting to nab him. We later found out his real name was Arthur, just like “the Fonz,” but he was always “Mose” to us, a “Mose” by any other name, he would still be a “Mose. “ He lived in Warren Glen, how’s that for a town, two first names, and worked at a large paper mill on the Delaware. His visits always included boxes, 1000’s of sheets of paper, they made poster board, which was used in all school projects, its shininess and toughness only adding to any good grade I would get. It was expensive, but free from Uncle “Mose.” And we could just see him loading it into his trunk after work, maybe having to sneak it out past the guard, and putting it into his trunk in plain sight of everyone, everyone knew that Olds could get you into trouble. He was cool, the way “the Fonz” was cool, without the motorcycle, and even his name was in parenthesis just like “the Fonz;” Uncle “Mose.” Now how cool was that? Sadly as we got older, and “Mose” and my grandparents generation faded away, and so did the memories, but how cool it was to think of him again after seeing the picture. And I wonder how many memories of good times have been lost over the years through death of loved ones. And I am thankful for the cars that tie me to them, and remind me of good times, when we were young and all was right with the world. And the only real danger was riding with Uncle “Mose” keeping a look out for cops. Maybe with the trunk full of contraband paper, and the music too loud. Or the sound of the pipes waking up he citizens. Yup, there was no better way to spend with your uncle than going fast, in an Olds.

Kids today are tethered in the back seats of SUVs, minivans and four door sedans. Mufflers muffling any sound that could cause excitement. And with AC on, windows up and DVD in place, there is no need for conversation within the car. Mom has her iPod, and Dad has his. No driving with the arm out the window, no cool sound of exhausts. And with radar detectors that look out for the cops for you, many just point and steer, with great difficulty. Surely driving ain’t what it used to be. Which makes me wonder, what will the kids of today remember in 20 years? Will they get excited when looking at an old minivan? Will they remember all the good times in the SUV? Remember that movie we watched on the way to Grandma’s house? And where will all the stories of outlaws like Uncle “Mose” be? Who are your kid’s heroes today?

We are told that Jesus had four brothers, by their father and mother, Joseph and Mary. Jesus never had any kids, but his siblings did, making him Uncle Jesus. A way you never really think about Him. So many think of Him as so pious and having no fun, not my kind of God. Yet I can see Jesus at family gatherings hanging with the kids. Checking out handiwork of others, remember He was a carpenter just like His dad. I could see some parents, aunts and uncle and others warning kids to stay away form Him, He has weird ideas. But seeing the kids being drawn to Him despite the warnings of others. You see Jesus will do that to you. He will draw you to Him. Something about Him makes Him cool, and you want to be with Him. Which is why maybe the hookers, junkies, tax collectors, those with tattoos, and those who ride are drawn to Him. And we aren’t afraid to ride along with Him. We see a certain freedom in Him, not a set of rules. A true rebel, but one against sin and those who try to keep us enjoying life. He leads by example, and long after we forget His words, we still remember His actions. He would hang with the biker, the hot rodder, and show a cool that is not found anywhere else, or in anyone else. A cool “the Fonz,” or even Uncle “Mose” didn’t possess. He would love the sound of loud pipes, drive with the windows down and arm out the window. He would talk to those in the car with Him, and tune in the radio with the best songs. If asked which car He wanted to ride in, He wouldn’t mind, but secretly would rather ride with Uncle “Mose” than in a family of religous types. Can’t be heard when a earphone is stuck in your ear. Either can you hear your kids. Listening? He loved them too, but they didn’t much care for Him. Sadly today the Pharisees are still alive and doing too well. Those who know all the rules, and you better obey them, or timeout. Doors locked from the inside, just like their hearts, not allowing anyone in.

Jesus tells us He stands at the door and knocks, He wants to be invited into your life. Funny how He wants to to join you in your hot rod too. Right up front, arm out the window. He wants to ride along with you too, on back if needed, but rather ride beside you, on His own motorcycle. How you see Jesus will make a huge difference in who He is in your life. Sadly to many He only lives within the walls of the church, but you find although He taught in the temple, He ministered on the street. Where the action and the people were. And He is still knocking today? Will you ask Him in for a ride? Let Him throw a leg over your bike?

Jesus was cool long before ducktails, Buddy Holly, “the Fonz” and even before Uncle “Mose.” He was the coolest hippie, the coolest biker, and the coolest hot rodder. More like us than we ever thought possible. Give Him a chance today, open your door and let Him in. He offers us a chance to be like Him. To paraphrase Ringo, “let Him step into your car and into your life...now He’s your angel divine.” More than an angel, He is who He claimed to be. And loved us anyway. All this remembrance because of a picture in a magazine. He asks you to “do this in remembrance of me,” all things. And they all work for good to those who love Him. Pedal to the metal, pipes wide open. Throttle pegged, wind in your face. Arm out the window. That’s Jesus. Now that’s cool.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

I can't be overdrawn, I still have checks

There is an old story told of one man’s disastrous day, and the unhappy ending. The man is first called into his boss’s office late in the day, and is told he is fired for something he didn’t do. In shock and depressed, he goes out to find his car is gone-stolen. Looking to drown his sorrows he goes to the neighborhood bar, only to find his wallet missing, where the spare car key had been. Borrowing some change, he takes the bus home, only to find his wife with another man, she didn’t expect him home so early. At this point he decides to end his life by hanging himself, but the knots keep coming untied. In desperation he calls his best friend, and tells him of the day’s events. And asks for help. Which the friend provides, by explaining to him how to tie a proper slip knot. Ever have a day like this, or friends like this, that meant well but just didn’t get it?

Last week my computer started acting up, better yet it quit acting at all. Deciding it was time to replace it, I took it to J and B Computers, where Jim the owner helped me out. But what was supposed to be an overnight visit, turned into five days of no computer. And in the mean time, life went on. The rains continued so I couldn’t ride, and with no computer, which I consider only a tool, just like a hammer is only a hammer, and was cut off from the outside world, and from writing. But Saturday morning arrived, and the new computer Jim had for me wasn’t ready, my old laptop was dead, the hard drive corrupted. It would take more time, and maybe Monday, which went into Tuesday. But the blessings were still there, and not in the form of know tying. He knows I am in ministry, and to help me out added another 500 bits of memory-for free. A great blessing as you not only know how computer geeks can be, but how much it can cost. But the storms continued. On Monday the rain quit, and it got cold. For So Cal that is, highs in the 50’s. So I took the Trophy back to Mick, and was going to pick up a new Scrambler from the Press Fleet. All was well tucked in behind the huge fairing, until within a half mile of his exit on the 91, a warning light came on, saying low voltage, no audio. And I ended up coasting to a stop. Crank, no start. No gas maybe? But after pushing for almost a half mile, I decided to try and start it again-and off it went, to the gas station. Putting in a gallon just to get me the last mile, I told Mick about it. “Of the three Trophy’s, one battery wouldn’t fully charge, I figured it would after riding it.” Sadly 1200 miles later it wasn’t, but I was safe. And on my way on the Scrambler.

And on it goes, without the computer, no e-mail, so I didn’t find out until Tuesday about Larry’s funeral, 130pm on Tuesday until then. And that Pastor Doug had e-mailed me wanting me to teach at the Dustin Arms Ministry that night. We did connect, after his persistent phone calls, to my “old lady',” and I was able to share that night. Tired from all the above, I came back to find a flat tire on my car, at about 900pm. Fortunately Doug gave me a ride home, but today, after a doctor’s appointment for Andrew, I will try to call AAA, find a new tire, and get it towed. By the way, did I mention it will be warm today, and I have this new bike to put miles on?

We just started Deuteronomy in our Thursday Bible study, and the first two chapters have been very revealing, to me. It amazes me how our loving God continues to take care of this grumbling and complaining people He calls His own. And as Moses relates the stories of how God rescued them fed them, and led them after 40 years to The Promised Land, I am amazed. One, because whenever the obeyed God, they won the wars. When they didn’t, trouble followed. Just like us. But how after all this time, and even coming face to face with God on the mountain, Moses didn’t enter the Promised Land himself, because of disobedience. But even more amazing is how he is found on the Mount of Transfiguration with Jesus! He may have missed the Promised Land, but not the Promised One! And how often do we look for the something we need when really it is a someone, Jesus? So be encouraged, we may forget about God, and we won’t win every game. But He never forgets about us. He never promised to take us around the problem, but to be with us and take us through it, with the promise of heaven awaiting those of us who believe. So keep your eyes on Jesus, and not the situation. He sticks with us on the trip, when out of gas, money, battery, or direction. He never fails. Can our faith ever be as strong as our memory?

Andrew just reminded me about his doctor’s appointment. Oh, and can I loan him $40 till payday? He spent his last $200 fixing the truck. And we are out of milk...but I still have some checks left, dare I open the letter from the bank? Life goes on, and on sometimes, it is these little reminders of how much we need God in our daily lives. Seek Him today, and for more than a knot tying lesson. Whether in the valley, on the Mount, or wandering after the Holy Land, seek after the Promised One, and watch as all your needs are met. Did I mention it is also tax time?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

no room left in the garage

My friend George on the corner spends more time cleaning and polishing his cars than I do. He has no motorcycles, but does have five cars, to which he just added a sixth. He tends to like Fords, but has an early 70's Chevy Nova in prime condition. He works local so they don't get many miles put on them, but they all look better than new. Any Saturday morning you can see one car getting the full treatment, then back in the garage or under a tarp in the driveway. Now collections are a personal thing, and mine would not interest many others. And some contain many vehicles, while others may be just one or two, limited by income, storage space, or a spouse who has other priorities on her list. But George's new car, a 1966 GTO, is rare according to him, for it only has a three speed manual on the floor. I remember those, some 47 years ago, and they were rare then. No one wanted a three speed, it was all about four on the floor, even three on the tree was more poetic than three on the? But his newest car sits under a cover, valuable to him. Which brings up its value, and the value of anything-it is worth what you pay for it. And now with another car, I'm sure it will get all the love and attention of his Fords and lone Chevy, but rare is maybe not a fair description. When the precursor to rare is because no one wanted one when new, it brings a whole new meaning to rare. Edsels, do you call them rare? How about the Pacer? A Gremlin? But beauty being in the eye of the beholder, George's car is valuable to him, and that is all that matters. How rare is that?
While wiping down my latest ride in the garage-it's raining out, I had the TV tuned in and caught a show about Paul Newman. Great actor, but few outside of Hollywood realize he was a pretty fair race car driver too, into his late 70's. A next generation Steve McQueen, but rarer was his marriage to Joanne Woodward for over 50 years. Rare-these things don't happen in Hollywood, or even other places much anymore. But when she was to comment on why they lasted so long together, she cited racing. She was afraid for him, but knew it was his passion, after her, and she would relent to his passion to keep him happy. And the marriage lasted happily until his death. A rare wife, married to a a rare man, and an example to all of us married, or to be married. These rare things were valuable to them, and gave their marriage value. This is one case where rare meant valuable, not because of the rarity of them, but the love between them-and an understanding wife.

So it seems old PL Newman and I have one thing in common-great wives. Years ago when I decided to get into motorcycle ministry full time, Theresa knew it would be more riding and biker events than she was used to, or wanted. But after prayer decided to join with me, and we have been abundantly blessed. We ride more together, attend more rallies and meets together, and minister more together, based on her commitment. My passion was for the Lord and motorcycles-without her love and support, and participation I could not, and would not have done it. Sadly I compare this to many whose wives will not mess up their hairstyles for even a short ride to support their husbands. Or even give them room in the garage for a motorcycle. "My wife won't let me," tells me more about who is in charge of the home, and who they follow. It is hard to have respect for someone whose wife runs the house, and their lives. Even sadder is a few years ago meeting a man through another man whose wife tolerates his motorcycles. This new friend told me how this old friend bragged about ministering with his wife, and how supportive she was of him. Now I tend to get out and around, yet I have never met her, even during a church visit to their church she was absent. I was later told that she doesn't even go. And as much as I want to confront this man on his living a lie, I feel compassion for him, for he feels he must lie to be part of ministry. Trying to tell the world about the God of Truth while telling lies about his family. It won't work, and maybe explains his always in process life.

Ruth Graham, Billy's wife, was once asked if she ever got mad at Billy. He was gone a lot, and that can put a strain on any relationship. Did she ever think to divorce him? "No, but there was a couple of times I wanted to kill him!" But the commitment to each other, and to God kept them both effective until her death, and set a pattern for their children and countless others. Truly love covers a multitude of sins.

So what is in your collection? What do you consider rare? My wife is my rarest and most precious valuable. After Jesus. How many other wives would let her husband have 7-8 motorcycles, when you can only ride one at a time? Or buy most gifts from a motorcycle store. Or attend rallies, travel across the US of A based around motorcycle destinations? Mine does, and so I have learned to visit stores she likes, and other places that I never would have gone without her urging. You see we honor our commitment to each other, for love when drawn down to just an emotion will leave room to talk divorce, murder, or selling off some bikes. But honor the commitment, keep Jesus in the midst of your marriage, and you will be blessed. And keep the collection intact.

Some consider my wife rare, and to me she is. She is like no other. But valuable because of Jesus Christ in her life, and her love for Him. So take heart, honor your wife, and your marriage. Just like the commitment you made with your vows. Keep Jesus first, and watch as your marriage will grow, and blossom. You two will be more in love than ever, and setting an example for others.

Oh, and it helps that she always has space in the garage for her Mustang. Right next to her Bonneville....

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

who gets what? or someday this may all be yours

Freedom is an interesting thing, at least in concept. To many it means being able to do whatever I want, whenever I want, with whoever I want, and however I want. I-yi-yi. But true freedom requires some restraint, we call it responsibility, or we have anarchy. Imagine a group of 5 year olds running the world, funny for awhile, but after 5 minutes of 5 year olds, it takes 5 hours to fix it. And sometimes we enter into these situations innocently, not knowing the future effects. But God knows, and to many like me who have been turned down earlier in life to have married the wrong girl, we are very glad to have waited.

My Nana was a sweet lady. Hard worker, she worked piece work in a blouse factory in Pennsylvania. She was originally from Brooklyn, her mother killed by a trolley car when she was very young, and having my Mother and my aunt while still a teenager. Note-did you know the Dodgers were named after people dodging trolley cars-in Brooklyn? But when her husband, Charlie Murphy died of lung cancer in 1965, she was a widow for 20 years. She loved to bowl, and soon started spending time with Charlie's brother John. They married and he was very good to her. But he was also a widower, and like Nana, had a family of his own. And when the two married they brought them all together. We used to joke with my mother,"do you call him Uncle John or Dad?" John seemed to work best for all of us.

But Nana preceded John in death. And inherited all of Nana's stuff, which was his by marriage. Which was fine. Until John died, and then his family inherited all his stuff, including that which was Nana's, and that her family, us had wanted. But somehow it got lost, and many things of value-not valuables were lost forever. My Nana who used to love to take pictures, had many albums, which now were gone, and with them, some of my family's history. I never thought that John's family ever did anything mean, or kept these from us, it was just the spoils of war, or inheritance at this point, and like Andy Jackson used to brag, "to the victor belong the spoils." Losers are never so boastful.

Now God knows many things, all to be exact, and He warns the Jewish girls in Numbers to not marry outside of their tribe. And that if they do, the land they inherited will pass on to their husbands from another tribe when they die, depleting the tribe of its land. But adding to the property of the stranger's homeland. Good advice to remember today, as we don't know tomorrow. Even psychics are taken by surprise, as God confuses them. As if they weren't confused enough themselves. But God's plans for a future and a hope, can get derailed by bad decisions. I never thought Nana's was a bad decision, and we never waited for her to die so we could live, but I know she would be upset that her things never got passed down to her daughters, and then to their children. But...that's the rest of the story.

So when Jesus tells us to watch for the return of the Master in His parable, He is referring to watching not so much for the Master, the Savior, the Messiah, but to watch out for those who will steal from you, mislead you, or lead you astray. "Do not be deceived," He warns, and yet many do, entering into relationships without going to God first. And they may be OK, for a while, but the damage can be passed onto future generations without knowing, and without wishing to. God knows, and gives us the chance to be successful based on His knowledge, and guidance, so why don't we use it? Too many good Christians get led astray by becoming prophecy addicts, and miss the gospel's message. They feed their own curiosity, rather than fulfilling God's order to make disciples. They themselves cannot even be disciple. And particularly sad are those that argue over the date of Jesus' return, neglecting basic scripture, when Jesus Himself doesn't even know. Or worse yet, are more concerned about who is the anti-Christ, when if save they will not be here, and never know, so what does it matter?

So Jesus says watch. Are you? And who are you looking for? Do you keep your eyes set on things on high-heaven? Or are you so entrapped in the world that you adopt your own gospel? And miss the true calling? Watch...Nana's innocent action was a loss for us. It was only some photos and memorabilia, but valuable to us, and it was to her. Think-what are you leaving behind? Are you taking good care of what is yours, or doesn't it matter to you what you leave behind? It is important to God, who set the example. He sent His Holy Spirit to guide us until the return of His son, Jesus Christ. What legacy are you leaving? Where you lead, others will follow. So who are you following? And where does it lead? Strangers in a strange land, with no legacy to fall back on. Thankfully God has given us His arms to fall back on. Freedom to be passed on, not used for personal gain. God knows all about it, and wants you included in it. The offer is His, for you. Where you end up is now up to you. And the things of God...it all comes down to a Last Will and Testament. God's will for you is...and His New Testament is all about Jesus. Are you watching? Your legacy will tell more than you think...does it include Jesus? What are you leaving behind? No matter your wealth, you will leave everything. So pass on some love while you can. God knows, do you God?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

Rich and Gloria and Will

We used to laugh at the old joke, "did you ever read the book 40 Miles to the Outhouse by Willie Makit, illustrated by Betty Wont?" And we would laugh, most of us never seeing an outhouse, or knowing what one was, a long drop to our South African friends, and most of us could associate more with Betty then Willie. Funny names for a funny joke, and a play on words. But every day we call on two people whom we have never met, and don't exist, Rich and Gloria. Maybe not by name, but by need, or desire, or even greediness.

And we do it via prayer. My mother used to ask me "how did God choose to answer one over the other when two teams each pray for a victory?" No good answer for that one, yet we see in victory athletes praising God, they knew He would come through. But what about the guy who didn't win, did God fail Him? Did He not ask correctly, or loud enough? And why was he so upset with God, when the other guy who won so pleased with God? You don't have to be a race car driver, athlete, or businessman to ask God, maybe just hungry, tired, out of work, broke, sick, or in need. And when we do, we often go to God after we have hit up everyone else. Using our own resources, our own Rich and Gloria, neglecting God's. I get many e-mail requests for money, sometimes using guilt, "if you don't give money, I can't go to Africa where God is sending me." Like it's my fault, that God doesn't know what He is doing, and let's not seek the same God for guidance who gave the vision. Why would you ask a poor man for money? A starving man for food? A cripple to carry your/my load, yet we do. We go to Rich, and Gloria. Seeking them from man rather than from God. We neglect the fact that it is His riches and glory that provide, His bank account is bigger than mine, and yours combined. But yet we only go to God after all else has failed.

Yet all the misery could be avoided if we went to Will, and asked. God's will that is. If He knows the plans He has for us, why don't we go to Him? And why doesn't He tell us all the details, so we can change them? God's will is not a first draft to be improved upon, it is God's will for us, and for our benefit. Yet we go to Rich and Gloria, instead of His riches and glory, and neglect Will, when we need to follow His will. He knows the end from the beginning, and the middle. So why not ask one who can supply, who has the power and knowledge, and has the reputation of success? I can hear the excuses now....

Sometimes we are like the man who stands up and donates a big sum of money anonymously. We want the attention, we like being in the winners circle to draw attention to ourselves. Yet it needs to be all about Jesus. He is the great provider. The great physician. The only savior. He provides riches and glory to Rich and Gloria, and Mike and Theresa, too. Seeing too much of Rich and Gloria, and missing Will? You won't see them as much without God's Will, the three seem to travel together. So...want more blessings? Want your needs met? Looking for excitement? Ask God, who gives graciously, abundantly, and lovingly. Ask for His Will, and watch as your needs are met through His riches and glory, and you won't need to hit on Rich and Gloria anymore. And you can ask and listen for His reply wherever you are, not just on Sunday mornings with an "Oh I have to get up and go to church again" attitude. God knows what you need, do you? I don't, so isn't it better to ask of Him who can provide, than trust man, who is just like us, and in it for ourselves?

Psalms tells us that "he has never seen the righteous go hungry, or their sons begging bread." Hungry, He is food. Thirsty, He is drink, so turn to Him. And maybe encourage Rich and Gloria to turn to Him too, for they too will hunger and thirst. And Willie Makit? God does every time. But on your own Betty Wont. So why bet, when in Jesus you have a sure thing? For it is for HIS riches and glory that all things should be done. Jesus Christ-the sure thing. Now, you were asking?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

first impressions

 Mention New York and the mind instantly dreams up visions of skyscrapers, large crowds of people, and the Yankees. But to the unitiated it would miss the beauty of riding in the Hudson River Valley, of upstate New York with small towns and great roads. Mention LA and all you envision is mile after mile of traffic packed freeways, but get off on the side streets, go to the beaches, and Griffith Park and find another LA waiting to greet you. Philadelphia, which once booed the Pope, and I think of potholes and Frank Rizzo, the mayor in the seventies who advocated getting the criminals off the street and onto the police force, where they belonged. But you would miss all the Colonial history, and cheese steaks. Worth some potholes trying your suspension. How about Minnesota, with mosquitoes the size of small cats, and you would miss towns along the Mississippi like Red Wing, and some great rides there, doncha know. Michigan is more than rust, and a decaying Detroit, it is the Mackinac Bridge, the Upper Peninsula, Yuppers to us low landers, and the Henry Ford Museum and Greenfield Village. Finally mention New Jersey and all most people know about it is the Sopranos, and the opening pictures of it from the Turnpike, my friend Bikerjim used to live off Exit 13. And you would miss the beauty of Hunterdon County and horses, riding along the Delaware-although Route 32 on the Pennsylvania side is more to my liking, and subs. No other place like it. And so we all live in a preconceived, viewpoint of our surroundings, prejudiced if you will, although most never set out to find out for themselves.

Motorcycling is like that. "It's dangerous,"says the soccer mom, as she texts while driving, with a car load of kids. Guns kill, although history shows not one killing without a hand to pull the trigger, and remember the west was won with a gun. See black leather jackets and immediately you think of motorcycle gangs. See a can with Heart Healthy on it, and you assume it is, until you read the sodium content. WOW-a healthy hardening of the arteries? So you see, first impressions are not always what they appear to be. My latest ride on a Triumph Trophy SE proves that. I like small simple bikes that go fast, this one is big, with so many electric gizmos I can't remember them all, even an electric windshield. But I love it, and the more I ride it, the more I want to ride it, and the farther I want to go-almost 1000 miles in the past five days. And it has changed my attitude to big touring bikes, this one handles like a sport bike, has killer brakes, and is comfortable. Even my passenger gives it the thumbs up, so it must be OK. But it took me daring to ride one to find out, changing my perspective of big bikes. Did I mention that at less than 700 pounds it weighs 200 pounds less than a Gold Wing, and about the same difference as on an Ultra Glide? I've averaged 42.5 mpg for the entire time, per the onboard computer-match that Wing guys at 90mph! OOOPS.

So our prejudices not only show our short sidedness, but our ignorance. And we miss too many things because of them. Can an old dog learn new tricks? Are you willing to try? BARK! BARK! Two means yes.

Most people have preconceived notions about religion. Baptists have too many rules, Lutherans are steeped in tradition, and Catholics have the Pope. Yet I have Baptist friends who ride, and would love to be given the chance to love on you, despite your prejudices. Lutherans are big on Christian education-who is teaching your kids about the Bible, and Jesus? Ever stop to count the many Catholic hospitals? Why don't we see any atheist, Mormon, or Jehovah Witness hospitals? Where is their love? Prove me wrong if I am prejudiced. But along with that we don't get Jesus at all. A Muslim table set up at Balboa Park was trying to explain who He was, and how they accept Him, nice huh? Great teacher and prophet, but the Son of God? Deity-no way. Two out of three may make the Hall of Fame-but not heaven. My LDS friend, again denying His deity. And He is not the brother of Lucifer like you espouse. And using His name in your religion won't save you, sorry no planet awaits your kingship. Maybe a good thing you still don't practice blood letting, or do you? So much of your church is not open to the public. JWs, he is who He said He is-God incarnate. And not believing in hell doesn't mean you won't go there. You need Jesus, and your crafty rewriting of scripture will not rescue you. Ask yourself, would you follow a God who is stupid? You may be. Your choice.

Yet Jesus is who He says He is-the Son of God. And God incarnate. He died voluntarily, unlike the Rolling Stones version on Sympathy for the Devil-more lies. And He rose again, after three days, just like He said He would. Do you think maybe He is worth the time to check into, to find out the truth about? Consider the fact that if God is for you, who can be against you? Or the fact you cannot make it to heaven except through Him? Is that narrow thinking, or just simple theology so as to not be confused. Ever fail a test by 1 point? Those who tell us you that you are saved by good works lie about the gift He offers-by faith. So can we put aside our prejudices, and get to know just who Jesus is?

When you think of Jesus, what do you see? Is He who He says He is, or do you follow man's corrupt version? He asked Peter, "who do you say I am?" And Peter, who was known for impulsive wrong actions, answered correctly,"thou art the Lord, the savior." Good answer. What is yours?

Lasting impressions are more important than first ones. Even in Jersey, not everyone gets off at exit 13. Where do you get off?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

don't lean your bike on the glass window

As kids we used no measurements for distance. It was five blocks by Schwinn to Dutch Treat, aka the Sweet Shoppe, where we went to buy our daily rations of candy, at 5 cents each. Comics were 12 cents, MAD was a quarter, cheap, and Fudgicles and Creamsicles were 7 cents. We knew John the owner, and he knew us, even knowing some of our dads. We were real impressed one time when Scottie Aldinger came up a nickel short, and John said he would get it from his dad. We didn't understand credit, we did understand a free candy bar. And most change was given without the cash register being opened, it sat on a edge and change was given freely without benefit of cash register in these pre-sales tax days. We knew never to lean you bike against the window, they could break although no one I knew ever knew anyone who knew anyone whose bike had penetrated the glass, but we just laid them down, in the dirt, knowing they would be there when we came out.

The shorter trip, by a block, but which included a steep viaduct was up to Crestwood Cupboard, or the Cubbard as we called it. Art owned it, an old house turned into a store, and we remember him mostly as passed out drunk, and not waiting for our change, pocketing the extra candy, he would never know. He drove a 1950 Buick station wagon, we called the Art Car, and also had a Coke machine with 10 oz. bottles, and a Pepsi machine that sold cans-big time in our world. The Cubbard was strictly a man's world, as no mom would go there, it was a pretty rough place. And with limited places to lean your bike, the gas pumps would have to do. Very few ever got gas there, Art was gassed most of the time himself. But there were times you went to the Cubbard, as the Sweet Shoppe was so far away, and the extra few minutes riding time cut into play, very important as a kid. And we figures all this out without statistics, mileages, or cash registers. Time had no measurement, unless you were in school, and then it took forever for the bell to ring. Somehow that rule never applied to recess, that went too fast.

A generation later the Cubbard is gone, a Russian gas station is there. The Sweet Shoppe is gone too, empty on my last trip to the Fatherland. Even a 7-11 has been built where the Amoco station used to be, with mom's sitting in their cars waiting for their kids to come out. No more nickel candy, even penny gum costs a quarter there, and no one rides their bikes. The guy behind the counter wears a name tag with a name you cannot pronounce, and no credit extension for those who forget to bring enough money. Many other things have also changed in the old neighborhood, the Esso is now Exxon, where we used to fill up our bike tires. Meekers the garden shop is now a strip mall, and even Friendly's closed. DelNero's Gulf is gone, where 25 cents bought a gallon of gas for the lawn mower, and Towne Car Wash remains, which used to have a Judo School in front of it. So much for culture, it's all gone, or different. And the kids today don't know what they are missing. Just a bike ride away from home, within 5 blocks was life, roads to explore, candy to buy, and comics to read. and I feel a certain sadness for them...

Today kids don't leave their bikes laying out in front of the stores, if they ride at all. Dollars are what used to be cents, which makes no sense. We don't know each other, just passing and nodding, and the car wash costs $10. And now martial arts has replace Judo, how trendy. No wonder kids grow up so fast, they miss childhood, and that great opportunity to grow up at a pace commensurate with their age. Looking forward to leaving elementary school, going to Jr. High, then onto High School, each stage a new door of experience opening up, while another closes behind them. We had no big goals, how to spend 15 cents for three candy bars was enough. We learned math by fives, and then by twelve's when comics entered our lives. And learned sex from Betty and Veronica, war from Sgt. Rock, finance from Richie Rich, and life from MAD. Where are today's kids getting their education?

One thing sorely missing from today is forgiveness. I can remember friends being taken to see Art or John when they screwed up, or got caught with two candies stuck in a pocket, oops. And apologizing, and banned, maybe a few weeks passing before they were let in again. We would fight among each other, and then minutes later be friends again.
We were kids, and we trusted our parents to be adults. To do the right thing, just not too hard when it came to spanking. I listened last week as a friend told us of her kindergarten daughter and her best friend fighting. And how the parents got involved, and they are strained when seeing each other, but the kids are back to being friends again. They forgive and forget, and then go on. Without special lessons, or DVD's telling of who or how to forgive. It seems it is built into them, until a parent comes along. The Bible calls it pride, and Jesus tells us how it hinders us, and causes other problems. We hold grudges, "do you know what he did?" often the crowning blow calling for execution. And you wonder why your kids are angry? Or why society is so mad with each other? Even the pathetic plea of Rodney King went scoffed at, no wonder so many repeat their crimes. I even know a ministry that claims to "let God sort them out," rather than showing true compassion. And we wonder why things are like they are?

Does the scriptural advice of holding no grudge against any man when praying mean anything to you? It does to God, and to Jesus whom He sent to forgive you. I have advised married couples for years that the five words to a better marriage are "I'm sorry," and "I love you." Simple, and to the point, no hindrance to forgiveness there, for we have all sinned and fall short of the glory of God. And when you ask forgiveness, the burden is lifted, and on the other person. And then you can both ride to the Sweet Shoppe together, just not leaning your bikes against the window.

The gospel is simple so that even I can get it. Jesus once told a woman " your sins are forgiven, go and sin no more." Much more loving than hearing all your indiscretions read before a judge in court. So next time you encounter anyone who has cheesed you off, offer them a handshake of love, and forgiveness. Eliminate pride and watch the blessings flow. Even off them a candy bar, show them you care. What you sew is what you will reap. Just don't lean your bike against the window. The shortest distance between joy and anger can be two little words away.

Where sin abounds, let grace abound even more. Which leave time to decide where to ride to today. Art's or John's, may all your choices be as simple, and rewarding. Now, is it Betty or Veronica?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

a song of the road

My latest ride is a 2013 Triumph Trophy SE, the big one. It is the deluxe touring model, with electronic suspension, TES to electronically adjust for passengers and bags, an electric windshield, ABS, traction control, heated grips and a sound system with USB and 3 power outlets. All standard, wrapped around a great Triumph Triple motor, lots of power. It still has two wheels, and is fast-very fast. And I have enjoyed riding it, no one else has one! Yet. But it has a radio, and I refuse to listen to it! Especially while riding! And having tried it once, on the 22 heading over to BA Moto, I must say I don't get it. Why would you want to hear anything but the beautiful music that the engine makes? And for those thick of head about helmets effecting your hearing, you are right, and wrong. They do effect your hearing, as when the face shield is shut on my Arai the music could be heard better without outside interference. But I was still on a motorcycle, and after about 30 seconds at 90 mph, I still prefer the sound of the triple making power. Keep the radio, the active suspension, and the windshield-I wanna ride a motorcycle!

I am known for my dislike of windshields on motorcycles. And this one being adjustable, I can raise or lower it to get rid of the buffeting. Sorta like rolling up the windows in a sedan, the buffeting goes away. So I have been riding with it in the lowest position, and it isn't too bad. For a windshield. Overall I must say I like the bike, but would I buy one? No, I prefer my Bonneville, or a Speed Triple, more bike in a lesser bike package. But for the next 1500 miles I will suffer on...I just had to ride a Trophy, and now can say I have.

When Rex and I rode to California in 1982, I met him in Prescott. All we could think of was warm weather and riding Hiway 1, so I put put together a set of earphones attached to a pre-walkman cassette player. Trying to listen to the Beach Boys to get me even more psyched only lasted a short while-I missed the road. And sang just as well in my head, where the best songs are kept anyway, without electronic enhancement. And the roads were great, the weather as expected, and I ended up throwing my sound disaster away. I didn't get it then, and I still don't get it now. If you must have a radio, take the Buick! Wouldn't you really rather have a Buick, if you just have to have music? And most of my motorcycle radio stories over the years are not good ones. Who wants to sit at a light next to a too loud song pouring out of a motorcycle? Too many complain about our loud exhausts,lets not help them along with our bad taste in music, too. Free Bird sounded good the first coupla times, but over and over, there has got to be as side 2. Or and eject button. Even off/on or volume would be welcomed. Sadly one time at Biker Church, a man who called himself a pastor, was sitting with his radio blaring-way distorted. A man stopped to see what Biker Church was all about, and when this pastor wouldn't even turn down his music so we could talk, they both rode away. Oh yeah, that's a church I want to attend. And please, I know all that are called Pastor are not like him. Keep the song in your helmet, and don't interrupt the music in mine!

But it takes different strokes for different folks, so we must endure some more than others. God had this problem with the Israelites leading them to the Promised Land. They didn't listen, turned their backs on Him, and hated the food, at one point willing to go back to Egypt and be in slavery over manna-which means what is it? Rather than endure the promises, they rebelled, and so God kept the whole generation our of the Promised Land, including Moses. Only two men would see this Land, Caleb and Joshua, because when sent as spies, along with others, they all saw the same giants, but these two men believed that God could slay them. Trusting God, He allowed them in-the next generation. They all had heard the voice of God, but only some-these two obeyed it. And gained entry. No cruise control, freeway off ramps, or fast food. And no sound system to drown out the voice of God.

But it doesn't take loud volume to miss God, or to not hear His voice. His voice is discernable throughout the background of urban sounds, and even over the loudest radio. It is distinct and can be recognized from a Harley, or an old BSA, or even an inline 4. And many do hear it, and even some obey it. But some hear it as just another noise, and try to cancel it out. Turn up the music, remove the baffles from the pipes. Sometimes it is so quiet His voice is the only thing heard, yet some can't stand it. Since God has never left you, it only makes sense He is on a motorcycle with you. He is among the loud music and pipes, and yes, still loves you. If only we had like Jesus said "an ear to hear Him."

Maybe the sounds of the road intrigue you, they do me. They welcome me, and put me in a safe and secure situation. But I still hear the voice of God when riding, and I know it. I have even been rightly accused of obedience, sometimes, and welcome hearing from Him. And you know what, He loves to hear from you. So become part of a conversation with Him, and watch as you grow in Him. And as you get to know Him better, you trust Him more, and the blessings increase. True, He knows the best roads, but you have to listen. Did you know that after 40 years of wondering in the desert, the Jews were only 11 days walking distance from the Promised Land? Or about 45 minutes by Ninja? Are we that close, yet missing it altogether?

Tune into Jesus, today. Before you leave the house. Turn off the TV, radio, and even your teaching tapes. Sit and invite God into your morning, and watch as the best songs you ever have heard appear in your heart, with no sound system except the Holy Spirit. As the day takes on a different attitude when spending time with God. And how even a short ride seems to take longer not due to traffic, but because you don't want it to end, so you take the long way. On better roads. Just you and God and the beautiful music you make with Him.

Today I am going riding, with no radio, and the windshield down. The suspension set on sport, cruise off. Arai on, and tuned into the Holy Spirit. The 2013 Triumph Trophy, at dealers soon. Jesus Christ-available to all and each right now. Why wait? Who needs assists from man when you can have it all with God?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biekr.blogspot.com