motorcycles, boring?

One of the side effects of having MMD, Multiple Motorcycle Disorder, is that they don’t get ridden very much. Add in the additional rides from Triumph’s Press Fleet, and I ride a lot of miles, just not on any particular bike. And while sitting in the garage the other day, I noticed how the Tiger seemed lonely, bored to just be sitting. Our regular touring mount, she has seen 48 states and over 80,000 miles in her first five years, last year when our vacation got cut short by my life flight ride, she had to be trailered back to So Cal. The irony in this is that next to her in the garage is the GS 1000, which last year I put more miles on than the Tiger, adding to her 25,000! And just looking at this thoroughbred wanting to run, it seemed that she was bored, so many roads, yet here I sit in the barn. So I promise to get out and ride her more-soon, ending her boredom of freedom from the road, and mine too. But it made me think, the Tiger seemed bored, but it isn’t a boring motorcycle, is there such a thing? Consider if you would, these three examples...Born to be boring...

A few years back I was invited to ride in a coronation at a private school, during their graduation they invited those who rode to give rides to the graduates along a parade route, a big semi-circle. I had a Speed Triple, Intense orange that day, and among the Harley crowd it stuck out, but not as much as two bling bikes, so overdone as to get attention-try turning away next time you hear brakes squeal, that kind of attention. Chrome everywhere, these trailer queens, the bikes, rode a few laps, when both started to smoke from overheating. Then pulled over and parked, unable to be ridden, and no one went to see why. These BLING! disasters were boring, even to look at, let alone not being able to be ridden. So pathetic I almost felt sorry for them, as they loaded them back in their pickups, BORING!

Yeas ago rotary engines were to be the answer to new emission laws, Yamaha and Norton experimented, Norton even produced some for police work in Europe. But Suzuki took the bold step and put one into production. It’s performance figures seemed good, styling was questionable the first year, but it was boring to ride. Where is the excitement of two wheels? Nothing happened via the exhaust note-it whirred! Remember the Mazda commercials? Back off the gas, it kept going-soundless. If possible to make a soul less motorcycle, they had succeeded. RIP-more famous in death, than when ridden in life. And a few years ago, when the Japanese were trying to reinvent the cruisers, as they had performance in the 60’s, a Hessian and I looked at a Yamaha on display at a IMF show in Long Beach. Almost speechless, and embarrassed, I opened the conversation with “You know, if you had one of these, you’d be a real biker, too.” And at that point he stuck out his hand, introduced himself as Sam and we talked motorcycles, for almost 20 minutes. And how far it had come, yet how far it has fallen just looking at this boring custom. A couple of guys who really ride, almost put to sleep by some committee in Japan’s idea of what a motorcycle should be. If two wheels stir the soul, this bike shouted for a pickup to ride home in.

Add any electric bike, sorry these are really two wheeled golf carts, and you find me bored, because they are boring. Electric may work OK on your toothbrush, drill, or golf cart, but the heart of a motorcycle beats best to a 2 or 4-stroke beat. Boring, wake me when it’s over. But how will I know if it’s boring? Erase the bikini babes, still interested?

Now one thing I have never heard described as boring is the gospel. If any man led an exciting life, it was Jesus. And we can lead the same kind of exciting life if we follow Him. Yet why in the past have I fallen asleep in church, bored out of my mind? One example springs to mind, when attending a funeral for a friend a few years back. This pastor spent over an hour telling the gospel, the same gospel that Billy Graham can share in 10-15 minutes and see a crowd saved, and the same gospel God made simple so I could get it. Yet this man, and sadly others I have endured, seem to think they must fill all of the hour, even while thinking, “I have their attention, I’m not letting them go.” And so many find church boring because of them, not because of the gospel. The same gospel that Jesus promises “a life of abundance,” can be put to sleep by some overbearing speaker. So I find I try to trim my gospel to 2-5 minutes, the attention span of a 5 year old. If they can get it, so can I. Can you? The life of a Christian should be exciting, new mercies every morning, not the same old, rote religion, which, by the way, Jesus warned about. Spontaneous life in Christ, always new and exciting, but sometimes dumbed down by religion. And then having to substitute plans, programs, and processes to keep the flock interested, but not always fed.

Ask Jesus for some excitement in your life today. And be ready. It may be simply answering a question about Him, or sharing a testimony. Or watching as someone you pray for is healed. Or going to a Wednesday night service and being invigorated. But God knows, and isn’t bored with you, so why be bored with Him? Too much BLING!? Get back to the basics. Too much pastor and not enough Jesus? Ask God and He will direct you to a fellowship where you can be fed. Alternative Jesus? Get out now! Most of the Bible is filled with warnings about false teachers. Seek Jesus today for that abundant life. Be bored no more! Hear the sound of the gospel in your life!

Without Jesus you have no good news. You have lies or a substitute savior. Don’t be embarrassed by the gospel, live it. Base it on Him instead of religion, and you won’t be embarrassed, or bored. And let no one say to you, “ you know if you had the truth, you too could be a real Christian.”

If your religion is slower than your ride, maybe it is time to change. No boredom in heaven, why BLING when you can sing! I can’t wait to hear about your next ride. And please, no neon lighted bikes.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

passion or obsession

While attending the Motte Farm Car Show I got to visit with two men who both had red 1972 MGB’s. Joining in the conversation, I had a butterscotch 72 Midget, Theresa also had a 72 Midget, and we had a 1980 B, the last year, I was instantly welcomed into the conversation. One car had been customized, things we would have done if it was ours when we were young. He had the Mini-lite wheels, been lowered a bit, and other subtle touches that a non-MG owner would not notice or appreciate. But they both were passionate about their cars, and had a good attitude towards them. For among the other over restored sometimes we will find claims of the only one, or 1 of 10 ever made, showing off their exclusivity. Exacerbated by their low miles from not driving it. The everyday driver, had a sign on it, “1 of 550,000 produced!” Gotta love it, and they knew their product, and had fun driving them. My kind of car guys, and after telling British car jokes, and mourning the passing of the Brit sport cars in society, a void readily filled by the Japanese with reliable “sporty cars,”we left, them discussing a place the one knew to get a new tonneau cover. Car guys, with a soft spot in their head for the British...maybe all the parts falling off their cars weren’t of the finest British quality? But these guys were passionate about MG’s, and loved them, but were real in their approach. And drove them just to show it...sharing stories and info with each other, just in case they were the one on the side of the road next...

I also talked with another man, nice guy, who had an original 1957 Chevy Bel Air 4-door sedan, 52,000 original miles, with factory air still in the unused spare tire. It was spotless, a view back to 1957 and what the cars really looked like. Matador red, too. And with a plethora of 55-57 Chevy parts available, his was as is from the factory. He had researched its history, and showed me all the things repaired over the years. How the engine was still original, even wanted me to climb under and look to see, I passed. He was passionate about it as were the MGB guys, but then went off into another dimension. In order to keep all the numbers original, he had the master cylinder removed and replaced, even having the original plate from the old installed on the new, so the numbers matched. At that point it was an obsession, and things that we would not care about, just repair, to him had become an obsession. He loved the car, but the car owned him. As it had the previous owners. I can only thank them for their obsession so I could enjoy it, maybe more than he did. At least he drove it, sparingly.

We all get obsessed by things, and on my last Torches ride, 2 young guys on new Harleys, were planning on stopping at every HD store across the US. While we planned the next day’s route, they checked out the route for Harley dealers. Sometimes leaving early, and arriving late and missing out, but they got their shirts. And also new chrome, a new seat, and any thing else graced with the Bar and Shield along the way. Obsessed, maybe. Just maybe though a result of Harley carefully putting their stores by a freeway exit. But they had fun, hope they had as much fun as we did. Wasn’t the ride all about 911? Their trip photos would be different than ours. Did they ever thank HD for their forethought of putting so many dealers by the freeway exits, just for them?

When I first got saved, I still partied-a lot. But no matter how hung over, or high, I still would make myself read a chapter of the Bible every night before passing out. I was obsessed with it, just not out while partying. I had told God I would try this Jesus stuff out, but that I would still party, and sleep around. His answer may surprise you, it did me. “OK.” And so I did, until my heart towards Him started changing. Soon I didn’t want to, and began reading my Bible sober. Love will do that, rules won’t. My friends changed-they didn’t want me around, when it was really me that was changing. And as I got closer to God, I wanted to please Him, because I love Him, not out of fear of retribution, or thinking it kept me saved. We had a relationship, and we would visit and talk. And soon the things of old passed away, well most of them, and Jesus Christ was truly Lord of my life. But I did it His way, for our ways still lead to death and disappointment. I had been obsessed with doing good, now I had a passion for Jesus-much different. For just like the woman at the well, whom Jesus told “go and sin no more,” He knew she would, and I would and still do. But with a new heart,we saw things differently, and wanted to please Him. He actually became Lord when I started doing the things He wanted-His will be done. And so it continues today...Jesus the same as ever, me in a constant growth mode. Maturity we call, not realizing that when fully matured, we die, just like any seed. And then our blessed hope of heaven becomes reality. Not earned, but given, by grace as a gift. What gift can you earn that is more valuable?

So I try to live my life as the MG guys, enjoying it and also knowing its limitations. Enjoying what I have for what it is, but also approaching God in the same way. Putting Him first, passionately. Not obsessing over rules and religion, but enjoying the freedom in the spirit. So like the MG guys, whether broken down in the rain with the top leaking, where the oil spot marks where I last parked, and with always a project to do, I press on. Knowing Jesus loves me as I am, and enjoying the gift. Not an original, but a changed man, a new creature in Christ. The old things passed away. New parts, with new testimonies, even a scar to show where He has been. The way He wants it, a passion not an obsession. I can’t keep up, and He doesn’t set pace so I can’t. And waits for me where I lag or fall. It’s called grace...sometimes best learned in a storm or on the side of the road.

And to those of you who feel I obsess over Triumphs, I don’t. I also own a Suzuki that I rode this weekend. Of course I wore my Triumph shirt...some habits just die hard after all.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

how many sides does a circle have?

Lines have more of an impact on our daily lives than we give them credit for. I have waited my turn to talk on our party line, enjoyed the hemline of mini-skirts, and grimaced as my waistline expanded. I have been next in line for promotion, watched Over the Line,and signed on the dotted line to buy a home. I have watched balls hit the foul pole, a vertical extension of the foul line, although they are in fair territory, and seen touchdowns denied for not crossing the goal line. I have seen old people with lines on their faces, and lines from the tracks of their tears. I have had a great credit line, heard great opening lines, and been slapped when trying to use both. I have tried unsuccessfully to stay within the lines, to color inside the lines, and don’t cross over the double yellow line. I have waited in lines to buy tickets, stood in line to return items, and never have been in a police line up. I have been in baseball line ups, lined up for kickball, and lined up by height or in alphabetical order. I have been in unemployment lines, been asked what line of work I was in, and admired the lines of a classic Corvette. I have seen battles over fence lines, been told I was out of line, and looked for imaginary lines. I have crossed state lines, county lines, and border lines. I have seen the sun disappear behind the horizon, another line, and come up again, over another line. I have been put on hold while on line, bought things on line, and heard the song “Wichita Lineman,” is he still on the line? I have read line after line of articles, been sold a line of goods, and sold a line of goods. I will tear along the dotted line, have seen a cartoon with Terralong the dotted lion, and been in gas lines. I have seen curvy lines, straight lines, and dotted lines, all different, yet all lines. You may have your own list, but be assured, lines are a part of our lives we don’t give them enough credit for.

MY HD TV has more lines than the old black and white sets, been told to toe the line when it comes to rules, and been out of line when I didn’t. I have cut in line at high school cafeterias, been thrown out of line for the same, and gone to the end of the line because of it. I have seen marriages, relationships, and lives at the end of the line, and been first in line-if you just reverse the order to back to front. I watch as scanners read lines to tell me the cost of a product, and stand in return lines when I wish I hadn’t bought the same thing. I have watched at Costco as people form their own lines, and then get upset when someone follows the arrows and starts their own line-per the rules. So it is with lines...

I have crossed over state lines, and been going 75 mph safely, only to see State Police pulling cars over for the same speed when their state laws are only 65 mph. I have been in different homes, where you don’t wear shoes on their carpet-keep them on and you have crossed over their line. But it is the imaginary lines that continue to fascinate me. When you cross from New Mexico into Colorado, it goes from brown to green, you can see the line. Same with yards absent of a fence, one neighbor’s yard being separated by a line where they stop cutting. Or a fence line that separates the two, how can it be on both sides at once? And as lines form boundaries, when you cross them you are now under the jurisdiction of the new territory. When visiting prisoners in jail, you are under the same rules as them, you lose freedom as you enter, they don’t gain it because you are there. Crossing into another state the police don’t care about the previous state’s laws, you are under theirs now. Even baseball has ground rules for each park, still three outs and nine innings, but they can have an impact on how you get there. How many imaginary backs have been broken from stepping on the cracks, the lines of a sidewalk? So it seems although lines may keep some out, while it keeps others in, lines form a boundary, a way of telling where we are, a line of demarcation that either denies or expands our freedom.

I have watched as lines of fans wait to get a program or baseball car signed, sometimes for a fee, and watched as the hungry stand in line for food. For it is what is at the end of the line, or the head of the line that attracts us. So it seems I have been on line, inline, out of line, behind the line, over the line, and been at the head of the line. Both ends. Jesus makes the difference when He is at the head of the line. He honors the rules of the line, but expands them, giving a freedom outside of the lines. Rules and regulations in religion form a line around Christ, a boundary that keeps many from enjoying the freedom He promises, and delivers. Many wait in line for communion, once a year, but fail to commune with Him daily via prayer. They fall for a religious line about God, and sadly follow it, never experiencing true freedom. It is like learning to ride in a parking lot, just following the lines drawn on the pavement, and then getting out on the street, with the only lines designed to keep traffic on their side. Ride too close to the line and it can be dangerous. A freedom, but being taught religiously to adhere to the lines, many fail because they have lost direction, the lines are gone. what do they do? When asked the other day, if I had an answer, I admitted “I don’t have all the answers, but I have an answer, Jesus.” Who gives us the answers, and gives us the freedom to live outside of the lines of religion. To obey all laws of His-love God first, then your neighbor as yourself, and showing you how to stay on the straight and narrow, and still enjoy life. He operates outside of the lines of religion, yet in Him you gain respect for others, love of others, and a desire for God to be in your life. Something no preacher’s line, or religious line can offer, or deliver. His line may be straight, but it leads directly to heaven, and even widens to keep you on it when needed. A line that as you go into the horizon of life doesn’t shrink, but seems to expand. As lines, both imaginary, and seen, seem to disappear as you get closer to Him. You don’t seem to need the laws of lines when you walk in the spirit.

But some cross over the line, and are looking for the way back. Again Jesus is the way, offering us forgiveness, and showing the way. Sometimes a curvy road, for those of us who ride, but always helping us stay on the straight and narrow, following His line of love. All roads lead to somewhere, so do all lines. Only His leads to heaven. Ever wonder how many sides does a circle have? Two, an inside and an outside. But how many lines? One, that is continuous, that seems to have no beginning or no end, it goes on forever. Complete and incomplete at the same time. Where are you in Christ? Inside or outside the circle of faith? Are you part of the continuous line in Him, or trying to stay straight and narrow on your own? There may be two lines in heaven, make sure you are in the righteous one, where you pass into heaven. It may even be the shorter of the two lines, because you got in line earlier while here on earth. If not, no cutting in after death. For you it is the end of the line and hell. Make the choice now, so if asked “what line are you in?” you can tell the asker “I’m in line for heaven.” A line that goes somewhere without boundaries. That leads to Christ. Don’t cross over the double yellow and find out! Although life many times will send you to the end of the line, Jesus sends you to the front. Straight, dotted, or double-His is the line to follow. A line of one to follow.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.

humpty honda

Raymond Lowey, perhaps the premier industrial designer of the 20th century, had a sign on his desk reading “WEIGHT IS THE ENEMY.” At that time he had designed such iconic items as the Coca Cola bottle, and Studebaker was hoping he could add some style to their automobile line. In an era when things were mast of cast iron, no real plastics available readily, and aerodynamics were still for aeroplanes, he was forward thinking in his approach, reduce weight, put less stress on components, and it will take less horsepower. Or in the case of more horsepower with less weight, it would mean greater acceleration, and better fuel economy. 70 years ago things just not important, but today billions have been spent trying to get that last 1/10 of mpg, or mph. Computers have helped, they can control engine functions, but cannot aid in weight reduction. Lighter, more expensive materials, plastics, and alloys have helped the cause, but if you are overweight to start, the weight cutting can be more costly than just designing it correct in the first place.

Reading a September, 1975 Road Test magazine, I was interested in a test of a Jensen Healey, an English sports car, the top went down marking it as a real sports car. Not sporty as badges on anything from mini-vans to plain Jane four door sedans advertise. But a real sports car, with some interesting specs. 0-60 in 8.3 seconds, OK today, quick 40 years ago. Gas mileage in the 27+ range, all from a 2-seater, with wind in your face, and the sound of the exhaust providing the music. But the kicker was it only weighed 2200 pounds! Or about the same as two Gold Wings! Now true the Wing has a better stereo and cupholders, is much quieter, and costs much more-even in 2013 dollars. But we are comparing cars to bikes! And some British sports cars weighed less, like the Austin Healey Sprite of my friend Joe, that we used to put on his front porch, sideways so he couldn’t drive it off, by only four of us. I have even seen Gold Wings with mechanical assists for getting them on the side stand, maybe that is why they ride in groups, in case one falls, it takes all the Wing’s horses, and all the Wing’s men to pick up Humpty Honda again. Lowey was right, weight is the enemy.

It is for adults to. Having lost 40 pounds in my open heart surgery diet, one I don’t recommend, I feel so much better. Ask Ken and Marcia, both losing 40+ pounds. Bikerjim losing the same. And suddenly we see the problem-us. But the solution is also the same-us. We can control our intake, sometimes painfully-pizza still smells good, and I hold my breath past In and Out, but I feel so much better. And my body is healthier. And it adds to my good looks. LOL. Now I am not about to tell you what to eat, but healthy is a good thing. It may not add years to your life, sorry surveys, you ain’t God, but it can add life to your years. And just as less weight on the bike effects handling, it also effects your knees, ankles, and the rest of your body. If you are brave, or old enough, look back 40 years and see how good you looked. The Disco clothes fit tighter as they should, and you fit better in your leathers-and didn’t mind being seen with the top down, on your car. You wanted others to see how good you looked, as opposed to wearing expanders on your vest, and spandex in your jeans. The mirror didn’t shrink, and you didn’t either. Now that I have cheered you up...

God has given us this wonderful thing called choice. We can say yes to anything, like sin, or no to the same. He refers to it in Galatians 5 as fruit of the spirit. The last one listed-self control. and the hardest, but maybe most rewarding, as it is your choice, you can either accept full credit or full blame. For it is by the choices we make that reflect the glory of God in or lives. A few years back Dr. Nick lost over 250 pounds, and when I saw him in church, he greeted me, and I said “Hi Dr. Nick.” Not because I recognized him, I didn’t, but knew his voice. Also I had seen him on the news about his weight loss, or there is no way I would have known him. He looked great! Now he knows how I knew. Foreknowledge. And God offers us the same thing. Found in the Bible, with instructions and encouragement...but it is your choice.

You can put lipstick on a pig, but he is still a pig, you can build horsepower in an engine, but will sacrifice economy. Things that weigh more are less efficient. I was glad when plastic two liters came along, lifting glass 32 oz. bottles all day was tiring. So consider your weight today. and don’t delay. There is a difference between waiting and delaying. Waiting is looking for the right time God prepares, delaying is putting it off. Not obeying God, when it is for your own best benefit. Those that wait upon the Lord, shall renew their strength...those that weight upon the Lord delay. It could be you are sports car in a mini-van body. Carrying weight you don’t need. Can you see your toes? Maybe the hardest test of all? But do you see Jesus? Do you want to? It is your choice, self control. Now don’t you feel better?

I think I’ll finish off the Oreos just to celebrate. Only kidding, I think I’ll slip into the jeans I haven’t worn inyears, throw a leg over my Street Triple, and take a ride. But not past the In and Out. Please Lord, lead me not into temptation. Wait or weight, god is waiting on you. Your choice, self control. Only you can decide. Some ride are required to ride a treadmill, I rather ride my motorcycle. So many decisions, so little time. But only one Jesus. Make Him your decision today. Don’t wait, remove the weight today. You can have a shape like a Coke bottle, rather than indulging in one. And no, you aren’t too short for your weight.

Remember trying to shift in platform shoes? Maybe the only way to add inches and not weight. But are they hard to shift with....

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

where have all the old names gone?

Indian Motorcycles is alive and, well producing motorcycles again. New Indian motorcycles, at a premium price. And I hope they do well, this time. For since they went to their final rest, at the time back in 1953, the name has been resurrected a few times, around a new bike, and new companies. Only to fail, leaving the newest owner with a dream and a marketplace to fill. Of all the great old names in motorcycling, only Harley Davidson, and Triumph thrive today. Harley has escaped death a few times, and was finally purchased and reborn in 1983 when a group of executives bought Harley, and reinvented it, along with some of the slickest marketing ever known, so good a course is taught at the college level about it. Triumph, a year older than The Motor Company, was all but out of business, down to a few bikes built a year for custom orders, when John Bloor, a British industrialist bought the name and the rights. He builds cities, and although not a biker, per se, was influenced by others enough to resurrect Triumph and its name. For historical value if nothing else. And when he decided to build new Triumph motorcycles, figured he had one chance to make it. And it had to be based on Quality, something missing from the market until the Japanese invented it in the 60’s. You can only get by on your reputation for a short time, and today they are celebrating over 20 years in business! Building bikes in multiple countries, slowly establishing the old standby “the sun never sets on the English empire.” And so I hope that Indian makes it, and after sitting on one, no test rides yet, I was impressed. Great styling, quality, and workmanship. High priced, but if can’t afford it, ride something else. Just don’t touch my bike! And although not a cruiser guy, I hope they make it. And being owned by Polaris, who makes snowmobiles, and Victories, I think they will, with people and money to back them, could an Indian be in your future? Another American built V-twin?

And so we see value in a name, and what it can mean. Norton has also been trying to re-invent itself, a few times over, and has even built a few bikes, for display only. BSA, RIP, gone forever. As with Matchless, Excelsior, and other hallowed names in motorcycledom. I even know the guy who is bringing back Crocker, an LA based bike from the thirties. Steeped in tradition, and folklore, I hope he makes it. Vincent didn’t, although my friend and fellow rider Barney Li tried. Only his dying from a crash while touring prevented us from knowing how good they could have been. Even Royal Enfield continues on today, with a cult like following, their bikes still made in India, since 1954, bragging about how you can buy a new 1954 bike today. Low priced, and good for around town, I too hope they make it. We need the old names, the old history to come back. For we have a generation who asks me often “Triumph, does Honda make them?” To them Honda is an old name, going back to the 40’s. Did they really ride back then? So I advise these new companies to take the example of Harley and Triumph, and stay true to your roots. Don’t try to be what you aren’t, just ask Eric Buell, raped by Harley. but now thriving again on his own, you can’t keep a good man, or his bike down. So maybe what we ride tells us more about ourselves and who we are than we think. I ride a Triumph, you go figure.

Funny thing about revival, you can only revive something that was once alive. Resurrection only works on the dead. And that was what all were before we came to Christ-dead, in sin. it took a savior, Jesus to save us. Not religion, not chanting, not more rules, or legalism. We don’t need more religious types to show us the way, we needed Jesus. So that is exactly what God did, He resurrected Him. History, even outside of the Bible tells us of Him, He is an historical fact. Birth and death. But it is His resurrection that throws people off, that they find hard to believe. Yet the same people that have enough faith to push a starter button, not knowing how it works, don’t have enough faith to believe that Jesus is God! I guess over 700 prophecies fulfilled about Him isn’t enough, they want proof. And Jesus provides it via faith. Sometimes backed up by actions, the proof of faith. I had a customer once who was a bitter, beligerant gay man. Who hated the fact I was a Christian, and was looking to vent on me. I was the one who would take his wrath for all those who deny Christ, because I don’t. I must be weak, for all Christians are. Wrong again. And when he got in my face, and physically threatened me, and could not be removed from the lot, I confronted him. Surprising him, as we all know Jesus was a weakling, or so the story goes. When he started attacking my Jesus, I got toe to toe with him, and told him, “when you leave here today, make sure you tell people that Jesus Christ saved your life. For if I wasn’t a Christian, I would have flattened you!” And he left, not saying a word. My boss just standing there watching. You see, Jesus Christ does save lives. Sometimes He just uses us to remind others.

You see there is still power in that name. But only when used properly. That wasn’t about me, although it could have been, but I cared that day for that man to see Jesus, and I still do today. Be angry and sin not, we are told. Tough to do. But it took a tough man to hang on a cross for six hours, to love us when we were and are unlovable. To ask His Father, “do not hold their sin against them, for they know no what they do.” Fortunately I wasn’t alone that day, I had Jesus with me. And there is still power in that name. Power that saves, and heals, and changes lives. And that day, it saved both of us. Me from a possible battery charge and jail, him from a stay in the hospital. Only Jesus can do that, don’t attempt that trick alone.

You see there are old names, resurrected names, and new names trying to take advantage of a reputation. But there is no other name at which all will bow to some day. Whether in heaven or hell, we will all bow to Jesus. I choose to now, I know I can use the practice. And if you are what you ride, then you certainly are who you believe in. Jesus Christ, more than just a resurrected name, He is who He said He was. It doesn’t take a graveyard for resurrection to work, only something dead, that is seeking life. And only found in Jesus. There is truly power in His name, but it takes Him to stand behind it. Why live on just His reputation when you can be making one with Him today? Not bad for man who never ran an ad, or a marketing campaign? There are names, and there are names. Bow now and avoid the rush. Now there is a name I am glad to rights to! Not bad for a 2000 year old model!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

heaven-it's not what you think

Although Tom and I had worked together for 8 years, we never really got to know each other. We both knew Jesus, and that and Coca Cola were all we had in common. But when I lost my job, he invited us over for diner that Saturday night before I took off to start our new life in California. Losing a job can be can be a life shattering experience, but Tom was faced with even more challenges. Kevin, his only son, 12 years old, had bone cancer, and had had a leg amputated. But Kevin was full of life, and had fooled more than one person into answering the door when knocking on his plastic leg. And that night he was pushing my kids around in his wheelchair, doing what he did best, being a kid. I never saw Kevin again, and an early morning phone call from Tom was the last I talked with him. Kevin was in the hospital, the cancer had spread throughout his whole body, and he was facing death. The family knew it, but the day before he died, Kevin was overjoyed. He kept telling everyone “I’m going home, I ‘m going home...”which they didn’t get at first, for they knew the cancer was fatal. He would never leave the hospital. It was only after he died, that Tom and Rosie knew what he meant-he was going home to heaven. To be with Jesus. And Tom called me to share that. Now when Kevin had his leg amputated, Rosie lost her sight, which she regained after Kevin died. She never go to see her son without both legs-God had spared her that.

A few days before Lee died, I asked him if he was afraid of death. “No,” he answered, “just worried about who would take care of Sue,” his wife. I asked him, “who is taking care of them now?” and that big old Lee smile covered his face-he knew that Jesus was, did , and would. No words needed, because there weren’t any. The peace filled the room.

Today marks five years since Laiken died. And although I have some great memories of her, I realized I had never seen her well. In fact, almost all of our times spent together were in hospitals. I never got to know the Liaken as cheerleader, or riding her bike. Or just being a kid, I saw her through isolation walls, and plastic gloves. I saw her much like Kevin, with joy that I can’t put into words, for there aren’t any. I see a smile that fills the room, and a little hand always reaching out to me, a little girl who now is home, just like Kevin, and Lee, and others who call Jesus Lord. And tonight Stacey is having another get together to remember her, the first one I will miss. But I won’t miss Laiken, and I won’t miss Stacey and Jim, or Abigail either. I will miss being there, watching as Abigail grows up, as Laiken’s friends are graduating from high school, meeting boys, and getting on with life. And while it may seem she was robbed of all these things, she is with Jesus before all of us, which when we get there will make us look at things differently-on earth as it is in heaven. Fortunately not in heaven as it is on earth. She went right to the front to line, with Kevin and Lee.They have placed their trust in Jesus, and they will be in my thoughts and prayers all day, as they often are, no date or day needed to remember Laiken. Only time that will pass until we see God face to face in heaven, and our friends will be there. It may seem like eternity until we get there, it will take eternity to give thanks.

But heaven is not what you think. “Eye has not seen,” scripture tells us, so any pictures, drawings, or ideas it’s not. “Ear has not heard,” it goes on, for no one can tell you about it. Ask Moses when you see him, how do you describe an infinite God using finite words? “Nor mind imagined,” whatever your wildest dream of heaven is, it falls short, it is far better than you can even dream or imagine. So don’t try. Just look forward to it. And encourage others in it. When I was sick this last summer, I spent time with Jesus, in the spirit. I cannot tell you if I saw heaven, but all I could see was Jesus. And I cannot describe it-or Him. For there are no words to describe an infinite God to an infinite world. It goes way beyond feeling, and the peace is indescribable. The best words are God’s, from the fruit of he spirit. LOVE-not an emotion, but the person of God. In His presence. And He is here now, giving us life until we enter into eternal life. My feelings have been know t let me down, aren’t you glad that God is more than an emotion? JOY-His presence, not the absence of pain, with us through the trials. With us on our journey back home. And PEACE-not a situation, He is our peace. The Prince of Peace. A person. So get to know the person if you want any glimpses of heaven. As for me, the only way I can describe it is, “I want to go back.” So when I meet others who ask, “aren’t you glad you’re not dead?” I answer “NO.” For I want to go back, to be with Jesus. But I am also thankful I am here for now, to encourage others. To be where God wants me. And I know that Kevin, Laiken, and Lee would say the same. Somewhere I can see Kevin pushing Laiken in that wheelchair, laughing and carrying on with Lee watching. Smiling. And God smiling too, telling us all is good, all is well with their souls. Heaven will be fun, not because we will be there, but because Jesus is there. Much better than I could ever imagine.

So take comfort in the words King David did, when told of the death of his son Absolom. “He cannot come to me, but I can go to him.” And we know this to be true, because God sent Jesus to be with us, so we can. So look forward to heaven in all you do, just as the example Jesus gave His disciples, “On earth, as it is in heaven.” Not the opposite that we try to make it. The only things I desire of earth in heaven are my family and friends. You can keep the rest. I want to go back, for you see heaven-it’s not what you think! It’s even better!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

with ten miles behind me and 10,000 more to go

James Taylor and his wonderful voice burst onto the scene while I was in high school. With hit after hit, and beautiful lyrics, some of us who were hard core rock fans were drawn to him. His songs seemed to work better on the stereo when having a girl over than Radar Love. Somehow the lyric “been drivin’ all night my hands wet on the wheel...” never inspired a hugging and kissing scenario for me, although this song would drive Por Favor nuts. To each his own. Then he went and married Carly Simon, and her album with her blue sweater drove many the adolescent boys crazy. This guy had it made, music, fame, and Carly. But there was always one line in Sweet Baby James that has stuck with me through the years, “with ten miles behind me, and ten thousand more to go...there’s a song that they sing when they take to the highway..” And when leaving town on every long trip, I sing this to myself when first hitting the highway. For it always seems to be a highway that leads me out of town to wherever I may end up, with the road the real destination. And just as all journeys begin with the first step, all rides begin with the first mile. Also with an anxiety, an unbelievable sense of I am free to do and go wherever I want for the next 14-37 days. It is just me and my wife and the motorcycle-let’s see how far our dreams can take us. And for the past ten years they have taken us to 48 states and Canada-all on two wheels. Some trips shorter than others, the longest 37 days, 31 states, and over 11,000 miles. From deserts to amber waves of grain with purple mountain’s majesties separating them, it seems no end to the roads and the memories that we set out on. But as many miles as we have ridden, and all the places we have seen, the map is still covered with roads we have yet to try, to places we have yet to visit, and people we have yet to meet. With 10,000 more to go...

The first ten miles are often the toughest, as you go through the mental check of all the things you needed to do so you can leave. Cat and dog taken care of, mail stopped, neighbors watching the home...did I forget anything? And as the miles add up, the cares get left behind, anything will have to wait until we return. The road is our home now, and every night a new bed awaits us, promising a good night’s rest, a time to review the ride of the day, and plan for the next day’s. Home will be wherever we rest that night, and 10,000 more to go. And it seems that this freedom is best explored on two wheels, with a best friend. Over the years I have ridden cross country with groups, with a friend, and also alone. I prefer alone, with just Theresa, the old rule you only go as fast as the slowest rider applying here. We go our own pace, and there have been times 250 miles took all day, while other times riding 600 miles to a destination, had us on the road for another 250 after an early dinner. The road has become a home, and a destination to us, a place we feel most comfortable on, a place that takes us places greater than our imaginations, and memories stirred years later when looking at the pictures. But 10,000 miles? A dream to some, a curse to others, so we ride alone.

The Greeks felt that 10,000 was the largest number possible. Infinity to us, and we find in scripture 10,000 referred to many times in the New Testament. Speaking of God’s riches for us. And it seems every time we are blessed, we have to rest, soaking it all in. No way He could ever surpass that, but we have learned that only God can, and will, and does. We have taken the scripture to heart, He gives you the desire of your heart, He plants it there, and then fulfills it. Ten thousand of them! And so I often look back and thank the Lord for all He has done, sometimes exhausting my dreams, and realizing that I have only travelled 10 miles with God, and I have 10,000 more to go. Heaven is infinite, 10,000 times 10,000, all with the Lord. But it takes a first step, the first ten miles, and Jesus is the way. As a new Christian things all seem new, and we are told how wonderful it all is, and sometimes how good things will be. And then trouble hits, and many turn back, or away. Just a short trip with Jesus, with so much more to go. They don’t trust their riding partner of life, and stay within a local range, never seeing what lies over the hill, in the canyon, or past the fields. They turn back just as the roads get challenging, missing the blessing of riding them, and seeing God getting them through. Missing out on life’s ride with Jesus, or worse yet, leaving Him behind when they do, planning to the exact mile their trip, never leaving home, and never seeing the blessings God has for them. Ten miles behind them is all their ride, for their journey is seen through their own eyes, instead of God’s.

To those who believe, I urge them to take to the highway, just as James sang on Country Roads. Not just escaping the urban blight to a more bucolic road, but the whole country. Wake up in another time zone, eat a local specialty for breakfast, watch a travel show and say “I’ve been there.” But James also sings, “sail on home to Jesus..” and that is what really makes the trip. Without Jesus they are just roads, with Him they are destinations. Places to go until we meet in heaven, where ten miles is just a stroll, and 10,000 is an afternoon’s ride. God has endless blessings for us, we just need to trust Him. We don’t know what tomorrow will bring sometimes because we don’t know where we will be tonight, or tomorrow. Start your ride with Jesus today, take to the highway won’t you good girls and boys. Jesus spent most of His ministry on the road, could He have been a biker at heart? Laying the groundwork for us today? You’ll nevr know until you do, with ten miles behind me, and 10,000 more to go, make it one with Him. And each night a special destination planned for you. But you will never know all the blessings until you get out and go with Him. And at the end of each day, you’ll know where you are supposed to be, promising a good night’s rest. Like the ad says, “He’ll leave the light on for you.” For when we’ve been there 10,000 years, there will be no less days to sing God’s praise. Now that’s a ride I don’t want to miss. Like the sign on our front door says, “we ride, therefore we aren’t here.” Reminds me of an empty tomb, maybe there is more to Jesus and riding than you think!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

roads, rides, and the ones who ride them

The bumper sticker read “Those of you who think you know everything upsets those of us who do.” To which I say amen, quietly of course where no one can hear me, for I have found that the more I learn, the more I don’t know. And I have real life experiences to prove it. Years ago BH wanted to race from 60 to top speed with his CB750, with some engine work, against my R90S. I smoked him, but against Bouke and his Yoshimura Z-1, too many times I chased his tail lights until they disappeared. A lesson for both of us. When Chuck got back into riding, he bought a Heritage Soft Tail, bragging to me how fast and smooth it was. Until he rode my Sprint RS, and told me that now he understood why I can ride faster than him. I don’t know any real biker who has never gone 100 mph, but I have gone 100 miles in one hour. Twice. Fast, but yet when Mickey told me about riding back to the shop from Havasu in 2 1/2 hours, that’s 300 miles, and that he averaged 120, I believed him. I know the bike, having put thousands on the same Sprint GT as him, I know the roads, and I know Mick. He didn’t set the cruise at 120, there are places 80 is fast, and places 155 begs for more. 120 was just an average ride that day.

I was so impressed with the Street Triple when it came out, I bought one. Fast, light, quick, and with great handling, I can see why the magazines love it. Then the next year the R model came out, better in all ways, if only I had waited a year. For you see, no matter how many roads you ride, you always find new ones to excite and invite you. No matter how fast you have been, there is always the legendary 150 mph Sportster out there, and no matter how many bikes you have ridden, they keep coming out with new and improved ones each year. What’s a biker to do? Simple advice dictates, let’s ride! And to you who think you have ridden every road, or every bike, who think you have gone fast, or far, it upsets those of us who have ridden more roads, more bikes, gone faster and farther. And so we invite you along for the ride. Follow us to more rides than you ever thought possible, and then have others follow you. If they can keep up with you, but then can you keep up with us? Lately the blank expression from those who ride is when they ask where we went on Easter Break. Central California, and they think Bakersfield and Fresno-you may yawn now. But I mention Exeter, and the expression is one of huh? We found it on a trip from Springville-now I got ‘em. Maybe. But when I mention the Carrizo Plain, to many if it ain’t I-5 they’re lost. And dirt roads ain’t I-5, although some in LA may have you thinking the opposite. So to those of you who have ridden everywhere, have you ridden the Snake? And tell me, what roads can you introduce me to? I’ll do my best to keep up, I’m not Mickey fast anymore.

The gospel and its simplicity continues to amaze me. While others seek more meaning from life, I tend to seek more of the one who gives life. Better roads, more curves, and more excitement, with just enough straight and narrow to make me want more of the Lord. But how do you find this road, this God, how will you know? Did you know that before you became a Christian God went out seeking you? His Holy Spirit was with you were in bars, in jail, and in trouble. At speeds faster than the cops caught you at, He was hanging onto you, not for the ride, but to give you the ride of your life. He was following you, daily reminding you of your need for a Savior, for Jesus. And then a remarkable thing happened, you decided to follow Jesus. And the ride of life just got better. Maybe not smoother, but now you had a real suspension to handle the curves and bumps. You had a seat that could go for miles, and a God who wouldn’t ride too fast you couldn’t keep up, or one that went off and left you. He doesn’t putz along so that you look for ways to get off and lose Him. But there are times that we ride off and leave Him. Aren’t you glad that Jesus never leaves you, or forsakes you? On an unknown road, He knows the way home. Detour! He knows an escape route. Bored, He will give you excitement, and hot and tired, He will provide rest. You never travel alone with Jesus. The important thing is you let Him lead, that you follow. Or to put it simple enough for a bumper sticker, “when you were lost He followed you, when you are saved you follow Him.” The gospel in 14 words. More time for riding.

You may never ride as fast as Mickey, or as far as me. You may be faster and have more endurance. But remember who to follow, Jesus. Those of you who think you know everything, wise up, get to know Jesus who does. And is happy to enlighten you, maybe even change you. Make you a better rider, take you farther than you have gone, and on better bikes. Follow Him, He not only knows the way, He is the way! But you will never know until you invite Him along. Start the ride with Him today. You may even find the Carrizo Plain, the Snake, Highway 33 in Wisconsin, Route 32 in Pennsylvania, and CA 166. Or the back way from Springville to Exeter. Great roads, and like great roads and rides, they must be shared. Not all roads lead to familiar places, but they all lead somewhere. Sometimes the road is the best destination, to people and places you find along the way. Who you follow is your decision. The road you take is up to you. The best roads and rides never happen by accident, neither is meeting Christ. He has been waiting for you patiently-why waste time arguing when you could be riding? With Him! The more I get to know Jesus, the more I want to know Him. Increase your average ride today. The God I serve is way above average. Consider this an invitation along for the ride.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com.

don't grow up today

"Mom do we have to come in?” we used to cry as kids. “Can’t we stay out and play some more? Just one more inning?” And of course the answer was usually no, for this was not her first attempt, but her final at getting us in for dinner, or to go to bed. “Can’t we stay out at least until it gets dark?” And still it would take more than another request until someone else’s mother, then their father called us in from the dark. We were kids, and our main purpose in life was to play, and we spent all our waking moments trying to fulfill our obligations to it. But unimportant things like school, homework, dinner, and more homework were daily deterrents to achieving this goal. So any excuse was a good excuse to want to stay out and play more. And the games we played were simple. All it took was two gloves and a ball to play catch. Add a third and we could play three way catch-not as much fun, or running bases. Still simple enough, and fun. For football all it took was a ball, and two people. Add a third and one would play defense-just like the pros. Not enough kids for two teams in kickball, there was always flies up. And if an older brother wanted to get involved, many summer nights were spent shagging fly balls until it got too dark to see. All games that required two or three people, a ball, maybe a glove, and the desire to have fun. We had no need to be entertained, we entertained ourselves. Again, we had fun, and came home tired, dirty, sweaty, and sometimes scraped up after contact with the pavement. We were kids, did we really have to grow up?

Remember when a neighbor got a new TV, or a refrigerator? “Can we have the box?” we would ask, and soon the empty box that sat in the front yard to announce to the neighborhood of their recent big purchase was dragged down to ours, and turned into a fort for playing cowboys and Indians. Or a pillbox to defeat the Nazis playing war, and even a spaceship for going where no man had gone before. It could become a race car, the possibilities endless, with only our child like imaginations limiting our fun. Sometimes a simple stick could make a serious rifle, a bigger stick a BAR. How many of us survived nearly putting an eye out playing with them a swords? And when it came to bikes, how many future collectible baseball cards gave up their collectability to serve as noise for the spokes? Making us sound like a real motorcycle, the faster we went, the louder, just like the real motorcycle most of us had never heard. Performing gravity, and death defying leaps from the sidewalk curbs, we went 100mph in our minds. Add a little gravel, and we were soon skidding sideways, wearing out our rear tires, long after we would run out of baseball cards. “Do we have to come in? Can we stay out until dark? PLEEZ!” And off to the bathtub we would go, then to bed. Exhausted, maybe a bit scraped up, and we slept well-dreaming of the next neighbor and their new TV so we had a box to play in, or the next afternoon after school, when all the stress of study released us to the world of play once again.

Being home in the afternoons I miss the sound of kids playing. We have kids in the neighborhood, but it seems that organized activities are now the norm. Playing in safe environments, with no chance to play in boxes, they are responsibly recycled, to stay out until dark, or to add horsepower to their bikes via baseball cards. Now we save them, they may be collectible some day. Bikes are not left in the driveway with fear of Dad backing over them, but locked up behind locked doors. And all the fun we had outside is now inside, where kids play video baseball, with the sound of crowds coming from the Playstation. They are Ivan Stewart jumping their truck on a big screen TV, no way you could ever play in the box that came in. And if more than two or three boys are out playing catch, someone gets nervous and may call the police-what are those boys doing? Are they a gang? Better keep an eye on them. But soon some mother, if she happens to be home, and not at work, is hit with the question,”do we have to go out? Can’t we stay in and finish our video game?” Why, we might even get our Nike Airs dirty! Remember when no one wanted their shoes to look like new? And as Mom sets the timer, and your friend’s mom comes to get him, no one rides home a few blocks anymore, you wonder why kids are so unhappy? Why do they dropout, when maybe they are forced out? School grounds locked, guards in the hall, and signs saying “NO TRESPASSING!” everywhere. So they retreat to the confines of their room, just them and a video game-no gloves, balls, or bikes to be had. Don’t get sweaty, and please don’t get dirty. Germs are everywhere. And fun isn’t.

So I like simple, and still do. A chance to exercise the body and mind. To go places we want, as opposed to being controlled. And sadly, most of this is about control. Not having to deal with the responsibility of raising kids, just sending them off. With others to leagues, teams, and other scheduled activities so we know where they are. So we can go out and play. Showing off our new Nikes, to the others at the juice bar at the gym. No kids allowed, just fun sucking adults. Would someone please buy a new refrigerator just so the rest of us can have a space ship to play in? Can I buy one of your collectable cards, just to add some horsepower to my spinning bike? Can I please go out after school? Until dark?

The gospel is simple, so people like me can get it. Man sinned, Jesus came to save us. He died on the cross, then went to heaven, leaving an empty tomb. And if we believe with our heart, and confess with our mouth He is God, we can too. One to one gospel, straight to the point. All Jesus and no filler. Yet the church, us, has decided over its history to make things more difficult. Like a country club, it has excluded those it feels are not worthy. Don’t dress right, or aren’t religious enough. When you get as good as us, then you can come in, and maybe join. If you’ll agree to tithe. So we all can see how much you give, so we know how religious you really are. After all we have standards...And do you really wonder why some say no when invited to church? When Jesus warns of the rich man getting prominence in his seating, yet all week tries to do the poor guy in by his laws? So many religions keep their flock under control, just like their children, can’t let them explore Jesus for themselves. That old time religion, it was good enough for Brother So and So...it’s good enough for me. Yet neglect how unhappy Brother S and S was, how hard it was keeping up with all the rules, and making sure he never missed a meeting. And then along comes Jesus...

Promising freedom in the spirit, and upsetting the religious types. Showing love rather than demanding it, He hung with hookers, junkies, and even bikers. But also with kids, because kids are cool, and still had a desire for life. They have imaginations, dreams, and desires not yet squashed by the world. They have faith, and want to know the truth? Will you parent show them? Can’t they stay out and play one more hour? Yet those in control, who seek to control, are really out of control. They wouldn’t know what to do with baseball cards and a bike. Playdough, I might get my hands dirty. Drawing, without a laptop? Dad, can you put down your cell, I have some questions. Who is this Jesus they talk of? Why can’t I go to church with my friends? They let me play, and be a kid...I am a kid right?

So we are to come to Jesus as children. Seeking Him, and not more rules. Not more controlled activities. Maybe just a couple of kids out playing catch. With Jesus. One to one, just the thing we fear most. For there is a safety in a crowd, and more to blame when we don’t get our way. Long after our words are forgotten our actions will be remembered. Spend time with your kids today. Let them be kids-it’s hard enough without your help. Play out on the field, maybe get dirty. wind up the Schwinn and pedal your heart out, come home tired and dirty. And happy. Be a kid. Jesus was one once too. He remembers, and wants you to be one too. In Him. And you just may find you get to go to church, rather than having to. “Mom, can I go Wednesday night?” And if you happen to see an empty box out front, even better. It makes a great space ship, race car, fort, or even an empty tomb. Jesus loves the little children, we never get old if our hearts stay young. He was fun long before entertainment. Don’t grow up today.

Or to quote Dennis the Menace, “not a bad party, I busted two balloons and a window.” Life is for the living.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com