Doug and I were talking last night about the new custom fit Bell helmet,
for only $1100, you can have one custom fit to your head. And as I considered
my Arai, a comparison will be made sometime in the future, when I have an extra
$1100 to spend on a custom hat. Then I considered a custom cowboy hat I once
had, in fact the only cowboy hat I ever owned, and began to smile. When a
pricey Stetson would be $100, I had won a custom fit, custom made hat from
O’Farrell Hat Co. in Durango, now in Santa Fe, and of course I designed it
exactly like JR Ewing’s, feather and all. And later when comparing it to a
Stetson, found it was thicker, fit all the bumps on my head, and was admired by
all who noticed it, the few times I wore it. The only hats I wear are helmets,
then and now, and I am sure that the custom fitting, where they put a collar
around my head, a Comfortateur, then formed it to fit my head, and picking out
the feathers and band were wasted on me, where a real cowboy would have been in
cowboy hat heaven. Not something I would have done on my own, but when
confronted with the contest, and the chance to win-I went for it.
Every year at Coca Cola bottlers they had Action Teams, where we would
visit different bottlers, and go out for new business, the goal to defeat
Pepsi. This year I was paired with Vince from Gallup, who fancied himself a
lady’s man, a smooth Don Juan type, although short, and I will refer to him as
DJ. When he wasn’t out flirting with women, he was very good at what he did for
Coke. And we would eventually win the competition against four other teams, as
if they ever had a chance. The custom hat being first prize. Which Doug,
another salesman, was drooling over. He wore cowboy hats, hunted and fished for
his only food, and already was telling me how he would design it. If I didn’t
win it, and he knew I stood between him and any chance he had of winning. And
so he offered me a trade for whatever he would win for second prize, with each
day something else added as an incentive. And a funny thing happened, the more
he wanted it, the more I did too. I went from not caring about the prize, but
just winning, to no way was Doug, or anybody else gong to win. I had to have
that hat, if for no other reason than Doug wanted it so bad. The little kid was
coming out of me, “I have it and you don’t, ha ha ,” which made teasing him even
more fun. Doug took everything at face value, and was still the butt of a joke
about his son going to an orthopedic dentist. Does he have braces on his legs
and teeth? And it took weeks before he got the joke. He caught on immediately
with the hat.
I had gotten fully immersed in the competition, and even without the
prizes, or Doug’s encouragement, I would have played to win. But holding the
hat over his head, now mine, made it sweeter. Not revenge, for the final
crowning blow, I understood the thrill of victory, he the agony of defeat.
Seems one Samson understood both in a chance meeting with Delilah. He always
fought to win, was s mighty warrior, judge, and is even mentioned in the Hebrews
Hall of Faith. But he went against God’s rules, and although he came away with
the victory, he never got to savor the beauty of it, as he was blind and ended
up dying in the victory. One of his fatal mistakes, was he didn’t like the word
no, and refused to obey God’s laws. He touched dead things, drank wine, and
finally succumbed to vanity and lust, when Delilah cut off his hair, and he was
captured by the Philistines, a brutal people who often would parade their
captives naked, chained together with hooks in their jaws, then killed after
they performed slave duties. And so Samson fell, for the love of a woman, and
so we fall for lesser things. For me the victory prize was the hat, I was going
to win at all costs, even displaying Doug in victory. To win a prize I didn’t
even want, my ego and pride would not let me lose. Nor would Samson’s, and if
someone as strong s him can lose, what about us mere mortals? What chance do we
have against the devil and his minions?
The Philistines are still among us, trying to conquer your walk with God,
and torture you. Ready to parade your sin to a dying and rebellious world,
bringing you down to defeat. And it is in the moment of triumph we are found to
be weakest, we can be caught off guard easiest. Jesus tells us “to be a wily as
a serpent, but as gentle as a lamb.” To put on the armor of God, and to walk in
trust. To look to the cross, where the victory is already won. Yet we choose
otherwise, and suffer like Samson.
Life is a competition for your soul. Only Jesus can save you, no one
else. And it is ironic that it is the helmet of salvation provided by a loving
God that saves us. This story started with a Bell helmet, and I am reminded of
their old ads, “if you have a $10 head, wear a $10 helmet.” Do you serve a
cheap god, who can’t save you? Or one who was willing to pay the price? Why
wear a generic god, when you can have a life custom made for you, that fits you
exactly? Jesus Christ is waiting right now to custom fit you for heaven. A
perfect fit just for you, it is personal, not off the shelf. One size doesn’t
always fit all, but Jesus fits all. He is the perfect fit, and will be long
after we are gone. 30 years ago it was just a contest, but today the battle
wages on. You don’t have to die for your God, He died for you. And is alive
today, promising you the same benefit. Don’t have an accident to find out your
helmet wasn’t good enough. Don’t find out like Doug that second place don’t get
the hat. The helmet of salvation-colors and graphics optional. Just make sure
you are wearing one, you never know when you will need it. If only Samson had
worn one over his pretty hair....are you?
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com