LAURA 1734

If you have ever read the patches on any biker’s vest, it is not unusual to see one stating “in memory.”  Although we appear to be a rough and tumble group, I have found that if you need something done, call a biker.  They tend to have the biggest hearts, are eager to give of time, and readily open their wallets for a good cause.  Underneath the black leather of many beats a heart of gold, just waiting for the right time to exercise it.  My friend Mark H. is one of them.  He came to San Diego and got involved in motorcycle ministry, along with his wife Laura.  She was a newbie rider, and of course her bike of choice had to be a Harley, any color she wanted as  long as they were the only colors Mark recognized-both black.  And on her first ride to biker church on a Sunday morning, she was riding in front of Mark, just like Theresa rides in front of me so many times.  As they passed the checkpoint in Temecula, Mark noticed her right hand slumping, giving her bike full throttle, then going full speed into concrete barriers-about 70 mph.  Mark went by and slammed on his brakes, dropped his bike and ran to her.  He found her unconscious, in a pool of blood-he was already praying.  And soon the rescue squad would have her off to the hospital, in hope of saving her life.  And Mark, who has been there for so many, was devastated.  By the time I got the call, many had been to see her, among them Pastor Fred Z., who Mark ministered with.  Sitting with Mark after many had left, and for a few afternoons after, we prayed, and he shared much about Laura.  She was able to sit up, was conscious, but in excruciating pain, and every day her hopes of recovery got better.  He would sing to her, and show her a special love that God gives to married couples.  All seemed to be going well.  But then the phone call came...

Laura had died, her injuries were too severe and she was at home and at peace with Jesus.  And Mark had lost his best friend and wife, resting only in the knowledge she was with their best friend Jesus.  And one afternoon while visiting, he shared how he knew God was in the midst of this.  He said they were reading John 17, and God told them this was of great importance.  He also said Laura died at 534pm, and it had some significance, he didn’t know what.  It was then that God comforted him even more, 534pm is 1734 military time.  So rushing to his Bible, he turned to John 17, but there was no verse 34. Which bummed him out, had he missed the message from God?  Then he started reading John 17, and verse 3 and 4 made it all real.  They read as follows-

“And this is eternal life, that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent.  I have glorified you on earth.  I have finished the work you gave me to do.”  Words written by Jesus, to His Father, before He was crucified.  An insight to a loving relationship between Father and Son, one which we are invited to be part of.  And now it all made sense to Mark, and God gave him peace.  For God has all things under control-even in the harshest of situations. 

Now it turned out we were having our annual CMA Rally in Escondido, and having Sunday service at Biker Church.  And God wasn’t done yet.  Mark and I had gotten close, he once told me that God comforted him throughout the ordeal, but that the pain never goes away.  A pain I hope to never find out about.  But God put on my heart to make a patch for Mark, and his friends, stating simply, “LAURA 1734”  No explanation, but when someone was to ask, a chance to share the testimony Mark had shared with me.  Bikers love stories.  And I made a simple tract to go with it, to leave with the one who asked, and it was in the form of a letter to heaven.  It quoted John 17:3-4, and I signed it, “your loving daughter, Laura.”  When on stage presenting it, I cannot tell if all were tearing, Mark and I were so blinded by tears we couldn’t tell, and as we embraced, God’s love for us truly shined through this man.  Something I had never done before, but God called me to do-I cannot tell how blessed I was and am because of it.  Just a bunch of bikers to some, but to God precious people.  But God wasn’t finished, as we were able to spend time and minister to Laura’s sister and her husband, and Mark’s son and family came to the Lord.  All because of a tragic accident.  All because Jesus loves us so much.  We cannot know many things, among them the time we die.  You have no control over that, I can attest to that.  But you do have a choice of how to live, and I hope you choose life in Christ.  Laura was ready, she just didn’t know the time or the way.  We won’t either.  On the way to church, or wherever, make sure you ride with Jesus.  When your work is completed, reward awaits you in heaven.  That is eternal life.  Those are Jesus’ words.  Bring Him glory today and assure your place in heaven.  When He gets the glory, you get the blessings.  For God so loved bikers, hookers, bankers, politicians-even you, He gave His only son-Jesus.  That you may know Him.  LAURA 1734, just another patch?  Only if your God is just another God.  She was that special to Him. You are that special to Him.  I hope He is to you.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

living in the land of commercials

Somewhere out there, where no one has ever gone, yet aspires too, is this land that is portrayed in TV commercials.  Beautiful women live there, who never gain weight, and if they do, instantly lose it and tell you about it,while wearing bikinis.  Teenagers are seen walking in schools with pristine hallways, no graffiti in sight, the only signs being hand painted telling of the dance this Friday night.  Ballplayers are shown without a wad in their mouths, no tattoos, and are speaking English, our national language.  They portray a clean cut image, far from performance enhancing junkies some have become.  Businessmen  have become businesswomen, and still find time to run a corporation, do their daughter’s science project, make a five course dinner-from scratch, and go out for the evening with their male counterpart, their husband.  While their kids stay home, homework done on their laptop, and in bed by 10.  They say cool things like yes, sir, no mam, and please and thank you.  They have perfect teeth, new bikes, and the coolest friends.  They ride skateboards that are not worn down from grinding, new Nikes, have a trendy haircut, and never wear the same outfit twice.  The girls never get zits, at age 10 know all about which make-up goes with which clothes, and never have to worry about birth control-sex is forbidden, although it is implied.  No one lives in a bad neighborhood, a bad one is where the homes are not part of an HOA, and every hedge is trimmed, all cars washed, and never more than a year old.  All bought on a special deal available to them due to their high FICO score, and even the youngest of newlyweds still has a new car, not quite a Lexus yet, but some minivan in which they all try to express their individuality by looking the same.  And if they happen to have a motorcycle, heaven forbid, it is a Harley, new of course, and the neighbors question his manhood behind his back, and his family values.  He is a rebel, an outlaw, and pity the fool who moved in next to him without knowing he owned a motorcycle.  “You mean he actually wears a leather jacket to ride?”  And all is well in this suburban utopia, where the only reality is so unreal that no one could or would live there. 
They pay more, get less, and are fooled by whatever trend is foisted upon them next.  Yet no one ever sees them except on a TV commercial, so why do so many aspire to be like them?  What is this unity that binds us together so loosely, yet allows us to be just like everyone thinks the world sees them as?

Growing up cars were longer, lower, and wider...the bigger, the better.  Bigger engine, meant more power, which meant more power.  And the 50’s and 60’s drove us to bigger and better, just like MPG does today.  You want more MPG and cool, ride a motorcycle.  Too cool for you, ride a bike.  Sorry, I thought you were interested in more MPG, not impressing your neighbor.  Except performance then wasn’t a dirty word like it is today.  And without knowing it, we have gotten what we wanted, or at least what we think we wanted.  Or told we we wanted.  An anonymous GM executive, commenting on the fickle buying public, once said, “if the public wants to lower its standard of living by driving a cheap crowded car, we’ll make it.”  Look around guys, as you stuff yourself in some Japanese import, or minivan that seats a Little League team, he said this in 1958-how far have we really come as a society?  Do we really aspire to be mediocre?  Yet we base success on that very thing.  We are united, under a myth or illusion, and don’t even realize it, or do we?

We hear of Unity through diversion-that’s a joke, or unity through team loyalty-just watch any pregame football tail gate party.  Did you ever think you would tire of Dockers on every male?  Or everyone driving a vehicle that is gray, black, or white?  Where are the colors of red, blue, yellow, or green?  I even saw a dark gray Corvette the other day-boring.  Yet we all seek some unity, something to belong to, some intangible that we can exhibit through tangibility-seeing is believing.  The early church, and the church of today is fighting the same battle.   I tire of hearing of unity within the body, and we see it in cults like the white shirted boys on bikes of Mormonism.  But even they have a unity that the Christian church aspires to, but thankfully has not attained.  We have a freedom in Jesus to be ourselves, no matter what we drive or ride, where we live, buy or rent, or how trendy our Wranglers are.  He talks of unity in the spirit, simply explained, yet missed by most.  He tells us that unity is in Him, so that we may be in Him, and know the truth, and our lives portray it.  So that the world may believe that Jesus is who He said He is and was, that God sent His son to save us, and that it is an inescapable evidence that Jesus is God, and we have all the power and strength in Him.  That is unity-based on Him, not based on us agreeing on something, but based on Jesus.  Us in Christ and Christ in us.  It is that simple!  So that people may see He holds the key to history, and the future.  That is unity, unity in the spirit.  That is what I want. 

Has your life become cheap and crowded based on what other tells you about Christ, or is Jesus real to you?  Do you get religion every week, yet feel empty, or do you get Jesus, and a yearning for a deeper relationship with Him?  If your Bible cover is trendy and your pages not worn, maybe it tells more about your religion than you care for us to know.  Be yourself in Christ, enjoy freedom in the spirit, a unity of believers based on Jesus. 
We call it Christianity because it is based on Jesus.  Somewhere in your gospel of self, find Jesus and let Him out.  And watch the world around you change.  No longer living in a land of commercials, but in the reality of a loving God who sent His son so we could have a relationship with Him.  Just for once, I would like to see an ad for that!

So ask yourself, why don’t they ever show the lines at Disneyland?  Why do car companies tout their warranties, but you never see them towing one into the shop?  Unity in the spirit, no lines, no sign ups.  Just Jesus.  No false claims, just the truth.  Love, joy, and peace.  Virtues and values found nowhere else in commercial land.  Break for the program.  Once upon a time is now.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

riding around LA

After one year since my open heart surgery, I will be riding my first 3500 mile month.  A feat I used to do regularly, without getting tired, or bored, now I am fatigued from, but very happy.  I have ridden six different motorcycles this month, two of mine and four from Triumph, and will get a seventh one tomorrow.  The first 1200 miles were on an 800 mile round trip to the Hollister Rally, which we turned into a 1300 mile ride, and then 1100 miles on a 2014 Explorer XC.  Then the phone rang, it was Mick, he had bikes to go to Sturgis on the Demo truck, they needed quick miles, 300 each, and you have 5 days to do it.  So...I put 300 on an 800 Tiger, another 300 on an Explorer, and 500 on a 2014 Thruxton.  Now usually I get to brag about states and time zones crossed for these amount of miles, but this time I never left California, and after the Hollister ride, I never left So Cal.  Where did I go and better yet, where have I been?  Never went above 127 mph. Gotta stop and think on that one...so here goes.

The city of Los Angeles has turned into a metro area that extends almost to San Diego, only interrupted by Camp Pendleton on I-5, north to Santa Barbara, and east the desert.  Now it is comprised of Orange County, the Inland Empire, Riverside County, and Ventura County, and once you have left them, then you are out of the metro area.  200 miles in any direction from my house, with one obstacle in your way when going north-Los Angeles, the city of Angels.  And the question that begs to be answered is, how do you get around LA?  I mean, how do you escape So Cal on your way out of this huge metro area?

For the first trip, try I-5, to the 405, then back on the 5 north of the city.  Or take the Hollywood Freeway from the 5 to the 101. Or take I-15 to the 91, the 71, the 57, the 210, to the 5 and you are passed downtown-again.  Or the 60, the 10, or the 210 off of the 15.  Or the 101, 134, or the 118 and you still can hit the 5 by Magic Mountain.  Sport bike in your blood, take the 138 to Angeles Crest, or stay on the 138 to the 14-cutting off into the San Gabriel’s as you wish.  So many roads, so many miles, and no wonder I rode so much and never went anywhere but LA! And there are more, but I think you get the idea.  So one day I decided I would be smart, and rode to Victorville, then home, an easy 225 mile afternoon, with minimum of traffic.  But the next day I had missed the stress and confusion of LA and rode through the Valley, almost to Malibu, where the traffic was horrible, and turned around in the land of the Kardashian’s-Calabasas.  Lane splitting my way through LA, what was I thinking that afternoon, and then home-again.  It seems everywhere you look you are still in LA, or at least under its influence.  But this weekend will be different.

So on Sunday Theresa and I rode out to East County, to Pine Valley.  Riding on her Bonneville, we stayed on some old roads, and ran slower speeds, and I was able to ride without thinking of my next freeway.  150 easy miles, never went above 80, and was rested when we got home.  But tomorrow Orange County calls, then downtown San Diego.  It seems I have to ride in this world, but do I have to become part of it?  I have to realize that although I ride through LA, I am not part of it.  Sometimes I can ride around it or ride around LA.

Just like Jesus tells us, and used the example of His disciples.  He told them not to be part of the world, even though they would live in it.  He would not rescue them from it, but rather take them through it, not take them out of it.  Today I know of certain Christians who only will shop in a Christian business, do business with only Christians, and hang out with only Christians.  Yet talk to me about what great evangelists they are.  Are they only evangelizing each other, or am I missing something?  Aren’t we supposed to go out into the world, proclaiming the gospel, and shining our light, rather than hiding it just for others who think and agree with us?  What if one of these had not approached you in your fallen, pre-Christian state, would you have ever been saved?  What if you stayed within your church, your family, and business and never got out from under it?  Is that evangelizing?  Is that spreading the word?  Yet many criticize those of us who do, just like they did Jesus for hanging out with crooks, hookers, junkies, bikers, and others who were considered less desirable.  And they miss out on the blessings of the harvest, and of getting to know all of Jesus.  They stay in their comfort zone, uncomfortable, never knowing the comfort zone in the spirit, depending on Jesus to meet their needs-of Him taking them through the valleys and over the mountains-they never leave where they are, and are miserable.  It’s like never leaving LA-there is a whole another world out there, just past the city-and off the freeways.

So Jesus prayed we would be safe from the evil one, and not fall into the world’s traps and snares.  To rise above them, and not be contaminated by them, we can be who we are in Jesus, but only with Him.  Today you will be offered many roads to take, some will take you in and some around.  And just like LA, there will be traffic jams, obstacles to go around.  Careful planning does not always prepare for the unexpected accidents slowing traffic, or guarantee a safe route.  Only in Jesus will you reach your destination.  It may no be what you expected, but it is what He knows will be, and you can trust Him.  Jesus always got where He was going-and you can too, He promises heaven, can you think of another way to get there?  There isn’t.  So trust Him today-just like all roads don’t lead to LA, and some roads lead around LA, not all roads lead to Christ.  Believe Jesus rather than some bumper sticker on the car you are stuck behind in traffic, either way you can be in the way.  One is in the way of others, the right one is in the way of Jesus.  I’m not sure how I did it, 3500 miles and never leaving home.  My back yard must be larger than others-explaining why the road is my home, and why I feel so comfortable on it.  Jesus lived His life on the road...another great reason to ride.  Some ride around LA, I choose to ride in and around LA...and around the US of A... in Christ.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the parable of the milkshake

Although Theresa and I like to travel alone, we are really traveling together.  Add another rider on another bike, and suddenly the pace changes.  You only go as fast as the slower rider, and when she rides her Bonneville, we have certain agreements.  I let her lead, she has come a long way from never riding on freeways, to never going 55, to cruising along at 80-85.  Which she will deny to any officer of the law.  She has also learned to lane split, and very rarely do we get separated, and if we do, we have a destination to meet at.  Like when the curves attack, and I just have to go faster, I wait  at the end for her, and the times of waiting are getting smaller, she rides faster now, I haven’t slowed down.  I have full confidence in her riding skills, and her judgment, unlike too many others who shall remain nameless, so as to preserve their integrity, you make your own decisions after riding with them.  But one group always comes to mind, one that if given the chance would ride with again, Don and Linc from Portland, and with the passing of Don, I only have memories, and no more expectations.  On any ride it is good to know where you are going, and when riding across the US of A in 7 days, communication is vital.  So each night we would discuss the prearranged route, we had ceremonies to attend each night, and plan a speed to ride at, based on the roads.  If too slow, you knew the destination, if too fast, same thing.  But we all stayed together, working it out.  Also fuel stops were based on the smallest tank, and no unnecessary fuel stops were taken, with some exceptions.  Older bladders need emptying more often, call them a pit stop.  And with Linc following up, no one wandered off, got lost, or dragged behind.  We all made it, safely, happily, and would do it again.  Consider this an invitation.

Now for an unexpected pit stop, or call this a refueling of the body.  We were outside Cuba, Missouri that is, and the signs pointing to Steak and Shake were too tempting, so we pulled in.  Now with 12 of us ranging in age from late twenties to early 70’s, we were a group to behold.  But age meant nothing to us, as although some were older, none were old, and let the milkshakes begin.  Now if you have never had a milkshake at Steak and Shake, when the sign appears-STOP!  You can diet tomorrow, or like we did once, have  a yogurt shake, saving 60 calories.  But you have to indulge, which is what we all did.  And as any group of kids does, we got loud-we were having fun.  And when I asked the waitress for some hats like they wear, she thought it was a good idea, and gave us each one.  Which only meant one thing-pictures!  And so all of us immature milkshake drinkers went out, and had a woman take our picture, 12 times, one for each camera that was lined up at the curb.  At first she was wondering what she had gotten into, but soon joined in the fun.  Our meal of milkshakes complete, photo op fulfilled, and new friend made, we were off again.  A time I will never forget, if I can ever find the pictures, they need no words to describe the fun.  Why should fun or milkshakes be wasted on the young?  And we were only half way to Ground Zero...

I heard a pastor tell once that many hands make light work.  Trying to do a job alone, even if it only takes one, company is welcome, as long as it isn’t another advisor.  Just meeting fellow riders at a rest stop can provide all the company needed to compare notes.  And as Theresa can attest to, when the fuel light comes on, and you don’t obey it, you have someone to wait with you for help.  Just like Jesus sent out His disciples, in pairs.  Your mind can wander on long trips, and having someone to talk to helps.  They see things you missed, can help push you if you break down, and provide first aid if needed.  They can help you keep a level head, and also share great things of the Lord-I have found no problem in talking to myself on long trips alone, but when the non-existent other voice answers, then argues, I pull over.  Even if no Steak or Shake is in sight. 

And on cold nights I cannot over emphasize the benefits of not being alone.  So Jesus has given us wives and friends to travel with, but He has also given us the Holy Spirit-so we are never alone.  Knowing you need to pray, but not sure of how or what?  Ask the spirit to intercede, and then a simple amen seals it.  For where two or more are present so is Jesus, and who could be a better prayer partner than the Holy Spirit, the third person of the trinity?  It is like God praying for you, and with you at the same time.  You can’t go wrong!  So maybe there is hope for those who ride alone, and prefer a crowd of one to a crowd of many.  But when more help is needed, God provides the hands to do the work.  But take heed of His warning, the harvest is plentiful, but the workers few.  And before you get testy, and waste time worrying and grumbling about the lack of help-remember with more work comes more blessings.  For you.  All the ones that could have been shared are all yours.  And a good nights sleep included.  So you can ride more the next day.

God wants to bless you, but sometimes it takes work to complete the project.  God knew beforehand who would show up, and you are never alone.  Many hands may make light work, but in His hands you find joy and peace.  Which leaves more time to ride, more time for milkshakes, but more importantly more time with God.  Which is never a bad thing.  Share a ride or a milkshake with Him today.  Bring along a friend, I’ll bring Theresa.  One condition-order your own.  Maybe share a sip or two.  But like the blessing God has for you, they are only better when shared with others. Riding alone or even in a crowd, you are never lonely.  Make mine a strawberry cheesecake shake, I’ll drink to that!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com 

money won't buy you love, but it can buy you a motorcycle

Those of us who have always ridden are a strange bunch.  While others were begging their parents to borrow the family station wagon for a date, we would be out cruising to meet a girl, sometimes any girl, who would get on the back of our motorcycle with us.  And the later it got, the more we cared about what we rode, than who we let ride on it with us.  Our bikes were everything to us, our social circle, where our paychecks went, it was a time of friends hanging out polishing and twisting wrenches, and of trying not to get grease all over the newest Cycle magazine.  We would memorize the stats, knew all the prices, and could tell a 1972 H2 from a 1973 H2 just by color.  We had posters of them in our garages, and many a night of bench racing was spent in the winter months, or while it rained dreaming of our next ride when the weather permitted.  It was all about us guys, and our motorcycles.  But slowly the ranks would be thinned out, by of all things, one of things we cruised for-women.  It would break our hearts when one of the loyal went over to the other side, and sold his bike for a car so he could take his girlfriend, who just thought of us as immature cycle nuts, which we were.  Funny it didn’t sound quite so bad when we said it.  Worse yet was when we would go by, and find his bike under a cover next to the house, while her car was in the garage.  We may have been second class citizens, but our bikes surely weren’t!  But girls were part of growing up, and forced some into maturity.  Not the best choice always.

I was always careful about who I dated, they had to ride. Sometimes you could tell by their hairdo, and passed on them.  Some were inviting by their leathers, but generally scared us off.  But finding that right combination of beauty and performance, in girls, took more time than it did for what we rode.  We found that money can’t buy you love, no matter how expensive the date, but it can buy you a motorcycle.  But not all girls were anti-bike, and one in particular, a Barbara tried.  But we could never hook up, I would show up on my BMW, and she was dressed like she was going in a BMW.  Worse yet was when I would show up in my MG, and she was jeans and leather-ready to ride.  Which always explained picking her up after her parents went out.  But we tried, but nothing clicked.  Followed by too many who thought I was a nice boy, except I rode.  But just when I was about to give up hope, I met Theresa on a trip to California from New Mexico.  And from our first night we rode, and motorcycling became a part of our lives.  We went so many places together, saw so many things, and met so many people we would not have if in a car. Precious memories of spending time with that perfect friend, my wife.  Motorcycles have taken us on trips, into ministry, and allowed us to raise our kids around motorcycles.  Quietly thumbing our noses at those too sophisticated to ride, thinking we can’t see them in their sexy SUV, hoping we are jealous.  But we ride, and God has not only given us a passion for Him, but for each other, and used motorcycles to do it.  Go figure...we’re riding.  Some read of testimonies, we are out making them.

But finding that perfect blend of beauty, and desire to ride wasn’t easy, and people marvel when we tell them we rode from the first day we met.  And have for over 35 years.  We must be crazy, and if we are I hope it is terminal.  We enjoy the life God has given us, and we have the stories to prove of it.  So when I meet someone whose wife won’t ride, I wonder how could you have married her?  Weren’t there any dates on two wheels?  No one is that good, or are they?  And I watch as there is always a schism there, as he rides, she won’t, so they don’t.  We know who wears the pants here, if only she tried leathers.  But love will make all things possible, and Theresa has overcome lack of makeup, helmet head, and wearing boots while others were dressed up for the occasion.  Her trump card, getting on her Bonneville when leaving, watching as the men wish they were with her instead of Ms. SUV, and wishing they were me-if only to have a wife that rides.  A few years back I met a man after church who approached me, he had a Triumph.  Then his wife came up,and the mood changed.  She hated motorcycles, and openly told me.  She was a PA, and I told her I too was in the medical field-I was a patient!  Which she didn’t think was funny, he did, but I told her I had a medical question, could she help?  Her attitude changed, and was about to change again after I asked her, “I have had 4 friends die in their sleep in two months, is it OK for me to go to bed tonight?”  And she stormed off-and it made me love and appreciate my wife even more.  More of a woman, and a lady than Ms. PA ever could be, riding only made her better at both.

So I know how Adam felt when he first met Eve, she was just the one for him, how could he not love her.  He had Eve, I have Theresa, and she has me.  And we ride-together.  We share our lives based on the desires God has given us, and one of them is Jesus.  We can minister together, and have found more acceptance in biker crowds than certain churches.  A better class of people, and we can share Jesus without preaching.  For true freedom is found in Christ, it can just be exhibited on two wheels.  Like I said, money won’t buy you love, and some try, and fail, but it can buy you a motorcycle.  Maybe we were on to something after all.

And so those of us who ride, and ride with our wives, and love Jesus are a strange bunch.  And so I find peace in the trinity of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  The things of God, that are manifested in our living a trinity God has given me-Jesus, Theresa, and motorcycles.  It just don’t get any better.  And we can serve Jesus, love Him, represent Him, and share our testimonies while on two wheels.  Never heard of an SUV ministry have you?  Maybe if you guys really trusted in God and your SUV, you would form one.  A lot of hurting people in them, just needing to be reached.  But we have been given motorcycles, and to paraphrase Joshua, “as for me and my house, we will ride.”  Serving the Lord, along with my wife.  While riding.  What’s your excuse?  We have none.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

in God we trust, not His FICO score

My friend Ted loved Wendy’s hamburgers, and where he lived there was no Wendy’s.  Now Ted was used to getting his way, and being one of the richest men in the area, he and his family developed supermarkets and then sold them to a German company, he didn’t hear no very often when he asked.  But being the rich guy in a small town made him prey for people with great money making ideas, to which he would always answer “ I don’t know anything about that subject, so I won’t invest,” leaving many to find another pigeon for their wild ideas.  When we went to lunch, he had to duck all these good ideas to make him rich, and he would tell them “I’m already rich,” and very few lunches were just the two of us.  So when he wanted his Wendy’s store, he called Wendy’s, identified himself, which didn’t matter to them, and asked what he had to do.  He had money, and was ready. He could already taste the double cheeseburger, but was told they weren’t interested in his cash, what was his credit like?  “No problem,” he told them, his family owned the bank.  Which didn’t impress them either, and his years of paying cash for all his grocery store bills worked against him.  Confused, and not amused, he couldn’t understand why when he had millions in the bank, that Wendy’s was more interested he had an $80,000 line of credit.  And lost interest, he hadn’t gotten his way, and if they weren’t interested in his cash, he wasn’t interested in them either, and never ate at Wendy’s again.

We ran into a similar situation when we moved to California and wanted to buy a house.  We had bought houses in two other states, and had worked hard to pay off all our bills, credit cards zero balance, we owned our cars and motorcycle, and could finally afford the monthly payments-easily.  So with confidence we applied, figuring no problem, for we knew others who were struggling and had gotten loans, only to be turned down.  Because we owed no one, our FICO score reflected it, but not in our favor.  They wanted you to have open loans, to be in debt, so you would have a payment every month, and all our hard work meant nothing, as we were told to go buy a car on credit, and reapply in a few months, our score would be higher.  Maybe it is true, California is the land of fruits and nuts, and your past doesn’t matter, only what you owe today.  The payoff being don’t pay anything off!

Years ago Jean Shepard wrote “In God we trust, all others pay cash,” and it evolved into “A Christmas Story,” about Ralphie wanting his Red Rider gun for Christmas.  And we laugh about paying cash, but now live in a world who rather have you in debt to them, rather than take your cash.  And because of money laundering, anything you buy over $10,000 must have an IRS form to go with it.  Carrying cash has become a burden, FICO rules, and like they ask, “what’s in your wallet?” better not be cash.  Much different from what Jesus advises on money.  “Owe no man nothing,” he advises, and it feels good not being in debt, but puts you at risk to buy anything.  Consider Jesus, wanting to buy a car.  He has no FICO score, he has no home.  No car, as he walked everywhere, and even had to borrow a colt to ride into Jerusalem.  He had to stay with friends, and never carried cash.  But when He needed a coin to show a man about taxes, all He had to do was grab a fish in the sea, and out came a coin.  And He even sent out His disciples with no cash, telling them He would provide for them as needed, and if anyone refused them, kick the dust off your feet, and go on.  I know some banks I would love to kick my dirty feet in, and kick some other things as well.  So what does Jesus know that your banker doesn’t?

So would you give Jesus credit?  Maybe a better question is why don’t you give Him credit, believing the things He says, but not obeying them?  If sick, who is a better physician?  Who is a better money manager?  Who knows the future 100%?  Who is there when we always there when we need Him, and never leaves us or forsakes us.  Who is able to give good advice, which only works when taken.  Who has fulfilled over 300 prophecies about Himself, and yet we don’t give Him enough credit.  Would a high FICO score give Him more credibility?  So then why do we rush to ask others, and seek opinions when He gives us truth?  What will it take to extend all the credit due to Jesus that He deserves?

Don’t let a hamburger get between you and the one who deserves all the credit.  In God we trust, all others pay cash.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

now I know why

Winters can be brutal in the mountains of Colorado.  Temperature well below zero, snow measured in feet rather than inches, and you can create a situation where many cannot get out, sometimes for days.  And living in the country as we did in these pre-cable, pre-VCR days, if the translator went out, you lost your TV signal, and were bathed in an eerie isolation with no contact from the outside.  In the best of conditions we only had five channels, and on this one night only one came through, the PBS channel from Albuquerque, where an old movie was in progress.  When it was over, and the pledge drives began, we found out this movie that had mesmerized Theresa and I was “It’s a Wonderful Life,” a movie now a Christmas tradition, at this time an unknown.  A movie billed as an angel earning his wings, it was about how one man, George Bailey, had influenced others.  Later God was to show me how it was also how others had influenced him, but on this night, it was more than entertainment.

Last summer when I had open heart surgery, while in a coma, I spent some precious time with Jesus.  As close to death as you can come without dying, I had this peace, and an experience that goes way beyond words.  The only way I can describe it is I want to go back.  And for every day since then, Theresa will confirm I have stated “I want to go back.”  And I would question why a loving God would show me of all people this wonderful experience, not questioning why, but wondering why me of all people?  Why this incredible blessing?  And then one day He explained it was grace He was showing to my family.  Grace to my wife as she was not a widow, and grace to my sons as they were not orphans.  And I was satisfied with that, way too much to totally take in all at once, but a peace I wanted to share.  His grace went beyond my selfishness of wanting to be in heaven, and looking back today I am glad for His plan.  But if that was not enough, He showed me that I was here also to see my sons realizing their dreams, and even better, them to see me see them realizing them. Now I know why.  And the blessings don’t ever seem to stop, as this week has been very special.

Christopher flew home from Barcelona last night after six weeks of touring.  His dream come true, as he and Reagan are now now living their dream, making music, and I couldn’t be prouder.  I get to rejoice in their blessing, and Christopher gets to see me rejoicing.  To hear from his Dad, “well done my son,” just like a loving heavenly Father told His son Jesus.  Now I know why.  I cannot wait to hear the stories, as his future looks bright, and a father basks in his son’s blessings.  But also this week, we got meet Andrew’s girlfriend from Canada, Michelle, and I got to see the joy of watching them plan a future together.  There is nothing like being in love, growing together while planning the future, a blessing I would have missed, but for the grace of God.  You see we are saved by grace, a gift that cannot be purchased, but He kept me here for grace, to be part of the gift.  I am so proud of Andrew, and Michelle is a great blessing, and I get to see it happen.  And Andrew gets to see me see it!  Well done my son, from a loving father, who couldn’t be prouder of how far you have come.  And just as excited for your future with Michelle.  Theresa may finally get the daughter she has always desired, after raising all her boys.  But it won’t stop there, as God’s blessing continue, and in His mercy I get to see them all...truly it is a wonderful life not only for me, but better yet for my family.  Now I know why. 

And even though I still desire to go back, I know it will be in God’s time, as I am part of blessings I never would have imagined.  That’s grace, that’s Jesus.  Ironically in the 30+ years since first seeing It’s a Wonderful Life, I have only watched it once in its entirety.  We found it in the library in Durango on the big reels, and watched it one night at church.  And even though it is on every year, I even think we have it on DVD somewhere, I never sit to watch it.  For as wonderful as George’s life is in the film, my life is even more wonderful in Jesus.  And my life is not about me, but about Him.  You see, why asks with you wanting favor, but when you realize who the who is, then you can say “now I know why.”  For without the who of Jesus, your life is a mystery, with so many unanswered questions.  It is like being snowed in with no contact with the outside, lonely and alone.  So let Jesus add life to your life, let your life be about who rather than why.  For when you are comfortable with the who, Jesus, you will know why.  It is called love, the person of Jesus, far better than just the emotion.  I am the only person to have what I had, I am medical history.  I wondered why I was chosen by God for this, now I know why.  Heaven awaits, but until then, I have right now-and more blessings than any man could ever ask for.  And my family is here to see it with me.  An incredible influence on me.  Now I know why.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com