We think we know each other pretty well, but may be surprised as to what
others describe us as. We tend to have our own agendas towards life, and how we
look at things are reflected in this. Job titles over the years have been
changed, customized by the politically correct, once a janitor, now a sanitation
engineer, my secretary is now an administrative assistant, and now mechanics are
referred to as technicians. But here are a few titles that if weren’t so funny,
would be pathetic, but end up both. You be the judge.
Looking for an information advisor, try the public library, suddenly that
middle aged, unattractive woman in the glasses can dictate your reading habits,
or help you surf the Internet. Ever get a sales call at dinnertime, you have
just be annoyed by a communications executive. Somehow doesn’t make my cold
meatloaf taste any better. And if selling insurance, a family protection
manager. Your vacation take you to any museums, listen to the coordinator of
interpretive teaching, maybe explains the high admission price. If swimming and
starting to drown, call for the wet leisure assistant-do they still respond to
HELP! Can’t get through and have to go down to the office to complain, you may
be greeted by the welcoming agent and telephone intermediary. If the elevator
needed to get to the correct office isn’t working, call for the vertical
transport engineer. Want to send a letter of thanks, just fax it to the
internal communications coordinator, and the list goes on. When in the hospital
I was told to call for a modality manager, NURSE!
Need your dog walked, get an animal husbandry transportation coordinator.
Need your car washed, call for the external environmental fallout manager, at
the car wash. What about the boy taking your groceries out to your car-he is a
consumable protection facilitator, now you know why these unskilled guys make
$20/hour, and still break the eggs, which are cleaned up by the nutritional
waste management manager. Funny and sad all at the same time. Which brings us
to those of us who ride? Are we bikers, motorcyclists, enthusiasts, experts as
an old Triumph ad proclaimed, 1 percenters, of which 100% ride Harleys, or the
nicest people you meet on a Honda, just letting the good times roll, while
interfacing with posers, hanger ons, and those just trying to impress living the
lifestyle? Maybe Honda’s tag line said it best, “I wanna ride!” Simple,
something we all can relate to. So why aren’t we?
So I ask, who is Jesus? Some say rabbi or teacher, and they have answered
well. He is a prophet, and He is. He is also prophetic, try that. He is also
the great physician, wonderful counselor, the great provider. But sadly many
stop there, denying the fact of who He really is-He is God! And the Son of
God! He is deity, and sadly many so called religions who invoke His name deny
that. And go out of their way to proclaim it. So if approached by some kids on
bikes, or someone wanting to give you a Watchtower, and tell you about God, ask
them “Is Jesus deity?” And then tell them to leave, not even wishing them God
bless you as 2 John advises, for they are evil, and spreading lies about Jesus
Christ. He is who He says He is, who do you say He is? When Peter was asked
that question, He as told “you have answered well,” by Jesus. If you haven’t
asked Jesus into your life, someday you will be confronted by that question, and
your answer will determine your eternal destination. There truly is a heaven,
and a hell. Heaven is preferred, no second chances in hell. You may do well on
the quizzes in life, it is only the final that counts!
Talk to your eternal destination counselor, aka your pastor for details, at
your local information and celebratory recruiting facility, church. Get to know
the truth, and become a person, getting to know the person of Jesus Christ. You
are someone to Him, not just a job title, or ssn number. You are somebody. And
He cares who and what you are.
Male the choice today before the eternal interment intermediary throws the
last shovel of earth over you. Not trendy, just saved. Cool in any vernacular.
Sorry, words.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com