bridges-to get to the other side

We all know the old chicken joke about why he crossed the road, but do we realize that bridges are really the reason we get to the other side.  I am fascinated by bridges, and also their building.  Great technology, skill, and patience goes into the design and construction of them, and we have travelled many miles out of way just to cross one.  Some are famous like the George Washington Bridge, I went over it years before Martha was built underneath, making it a two level bridge.  George on top.  Prompting many a joke.  The Tappan Zee Bridge which I read lately is falling apart, how many times have I crossed that escaping from Jersey via New York on my way to Connecticut?  The Verranzano Narrows Bridge to Long Island, referred locally as “The Guinea Gangplank,” and that is but of a few in the New York Metro area.  My first time across the  Royal Gorge in Colorado with Theresa I rode across, she walked.  In case it fell.  Been over the Golden Gate too many times, sometimes visible, sometimes mired in fog.  All on the same crossing.  On trips to my grandparents we used to go over the new bridge, but when I could drive it was the old bridge in Easton, washed away in 1955 by Hurricane Diane, now referred to as the Free Bridge.  Something about the age and history...One day riding on Highway 61 from Mississippi to St. Louis we crossed over it 7 times, sadly such bridges such as the Chain of Rocks Bridge are gone. 

Ever ridden to the Florida Keys?  I forget how many bridges you cross, locally in Miami they refer to them as causeways.  Like bridges and tunnels, then the Chesapeake Bay Bridge is the only way to go to get to Delmarva from Virginia Beach.  17 miles over the Bay, and under it.  Riding along you suddenly disappear under the water...cool sensation.  But what’s Delmarva?  The peninsula of Delaware, Maryland, and Virginia...the bridge to it the main attraction.  One of my favorite is the Astoria Bridge in Astoria, Oregon to Long Beach, Washington.  A great bridge really high so the ships can pass under, then long after for the river it crosses is very wide.  And free, so we have ridden back and forth over it many times, and the view...WOW!  While further east the Bridge of the Gods is a two lane bridge over the same river, steel grated, not much fun on a motorcycle, and last time we followed a semi, which made the bridge shake each time he edged forward, as we looked down 100 feet. So many bridges, so little time, but my favorite, for its length, height, and scare factor is the Mackinac Bridge in Michigan, uniting the Upper Peninsula with the glove part of the state.  I have ridden over it both ways, and it was scary enough the first time that I vowed to never cross it again.  Windy, rainy, and cold that day, reaching St. Ignace the town had closed down the weekend before for the winter-it was still September.  The bridge was celebrating its 50th birthday, been there, done that, still have the shirt.  And the Yupper is a ride all its own.  But with lanes paved and grated, the second time with Theresa the paved lane was closed, and the grate wet and slippery, a five mile prayer just to get over it.  With some sections under repair, just 5 feet from going into the lake if the wind caught you...

But the story of the men who built it, under budget and ahead of schedule is another story.  The pictures make my knees weak as you see men on girders 100 feet above the lake, no safety tethers.  The men who designed it fascinate me, as they were able to take a dream, put it on paper, and make it real.  Just some stats on this 5 mile wonder, height of the main towers over the water 552 feet-over 50 stories tall!  42,000 miles of suspension cables.  Total weight of bridge, 1,024,500 tons!  4,851,700 rivets!  Any way you look a it that is a lot of bridge.  A must see and must cross over, at least once in your riding career. 

But what did this majestic bridge replace?  A ferry, which in busy season could present you with an up to 19 hour wait!  Just to get to the other side.  Which is where we find our friends the apostles when they encounter Jesus, walking on the water in the early morning hours.  Why was Jesus walking on the water?  To get to the other side, just as he told them he would meet them.  Many concentrate on Peter also walking on it, in faith they say, but it was really obedience.  Jesus told him come and he did.  “If that is you” Peter had asked.  And of course how Jesus rescued him when he fell.  But we see here a new side to the relationship after Peter is rescued.  Up until that time Peter knew him as rabbi, teacher, had seen him feed 5000, heal the lame and blind.  He had seen the miracles of Christ, but had never experienced the miracle of salvation, the reason Jesus had come to earth, to save us.  Note Peter had travelled with him and was close to him, but on this day was so close that when he fell in fear, he yelled “Jesus save me!”  Jesus was so close he reached out and saved him...and they were instantly on the other side.  Just as he had said.  Literally and spiritually Peter was saved that day, and now knew Jesus as his savior.  And had crossed over to the other side, from death to life, from hell to heaven.  How many today will accept Jesus as a philosopher, religious figure, teacher, and even profit?  But he is really Lord and savior, and is reaching out to save us.  How many of us when faced with drowning in our sin called out to Jesus to “save me!”  To rescue me form my situation?  to get me to the other side?  But as we find, in the midst of the storm, there was Jesus, and he is in the midst of our storm today.  Not to take us around it, but to take us through it, to arrive at the other side.  Just as he says.  And he is the only way to the other side, to heaven,and being reunited with God.  I the storm you are in right now, will you call out to him to be saved?  No one else but Jesus saves.  No other god, holy man, religion, philosophy, lifestyle, or denomination can save you.  Only Jesus.

Like a bridge, he is the way to the other side.  Get to know him today as Peter did as savior.  You may have seen miracles, or even been one.  But only when asking Jesus to save you will you bridge the gap of sin and arrive on the other side.  Peter spent years with Jesus, it took a storm at 3 in the morning when he was afraid to call out to Jesus.  It wasn’t faith that made him walk on the water, it was obedience when Jesus told him to come.  He recognized Jesus at that point and went to him in obedience.  Which follows faith, which leads to trust.  Are you so close you can see him, but still not know him as Lord?  Do you pray aimlessly without knowing him?  Are you assured of getting to the other side when you die?  Peter did, and is.  But it took meeting Jesus face to face to be saved.  His outstretched hand is extended to you today, will you reach out ad grab hold of it?  Or are you still in the boat shaking and scared?

Jesus told them he would meet them on the other side.  Peter found out exactly what Jesus meant that night when he was saved.  The others were instantly there too, but without the heart experience Peter had.  That would come later.  Personally to each one.  So maybe my fascination with bridges reminds me of Jesus.  And being saved. I have no desire to walk on the water when I can ride over it.  One storm over the Mackinac will do that to you.  I never thought of it as a place of prayer, but thousands cross it everyday hoping to get to the other side.  Peter knew, I know.  Even the chicken knew.  You cross over to get to the other side.  And you thought it was a story about faith...

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

wouldn't you really rather ride a Buick?

In my defense, I admit I love motorcycles..  All kinds.  All sizes.  I have anything form Bonnevilles to Classic bikes to sport bikes in my garage right now.  Of the six, each one has a different motor.  And of the dozen or so times I have ridden from coast to coast I have done it on anything from 650 to 1100cc, from 2 to 4 cylinders.  So I rest my case even before mentioning all the bikes I ride for Triumph.  You be the judge...I love motorcycles, and motorcycling.  Guilty, serving a life sentence.  But some do stretch my affection, such as my friend Stu’s Gold Wing, aka The Buick.  It weighs as much as any two bikes I own, has a windshield the size of an NBA backboard, 1800cc six cylinder, the rear seats have arm rests, it has a trunk, a front tire the size of my rear tire, a radio, cruise control, and the new ones have airbags.  Hence the name The Buick.  All the things new cars have, including reverse, “honest officer I’m not drunk, that motorcycle backed into me...”  Its owners claim they are the ultimate touring bike, I leave that one to individual taste, with a warning, pass them whenever you can.  On one ride encountering a group of them, they never exceeded 50 mph, and when we stopped and talked I mentioned the low speed, “can’t you hear your radio if you go any faster?”  A tap on the shoulder reminded me “no they can’t.”   Like I said, in my defense...

Swapping bikes yesterday at Triumph, I am now riding a 2015 Trophy SE, their big touring bike.  Not my first, and I sorta like them.  For their size they handle-they are a Triumph after all, they go fast, great motor, and I like having bags every once in awhile when I forget to bring a bungee cord along.  But I never have listened to its sound system, and mu curiousity got the best of me yesterday, so riding down I-5 along the ocean, I adjusted the windshield up, still like wind in my face, set the cruise on 80, and turned on the radio.  Finding KGB appropriately playing Hitching a Ride by Boston.  And for the next few minutes I was in Buick land.  The sound was great, the air clean, and I was cruising with no input from me.  And when the song ended I woke up, and realized what I had done, I had ridden a Buick, just like the Wing nuts do, except I did it at 80, and could hear the music fine.  But I had lost all contact with riding, no input from my right wrist, minimal wind in my face, and no music from the 3 cylinder exhaust.  I had crossed over the line, and I asked myself “what had just happened?”  Had I aged decades for few miles?  Had I crossed over into a land where motorcycles had become car like?  I had sorta enjoyed it, but them I asked myself “wouldn’t you really rather ride a Buick?”  And the answer was, is, and will be “NO!” I was on a motorcycle, just not of motorcycling.

It was everything I don’t ride for.  I like light bikes that handle, are quick and are fun.  This was fun only because it was a motorcycle, but I was riding a Buick, a car.  I was mesmerized by the computer screen telling me I was getting 49.1 mpg at 80 miles per hour, but had lost contact with riding.  Input, just not sensory. I had crossed over into a land I hope to avoid and was the better for it.  True, for the next 1000 miles this will be my ride, but I will enjoy the wind in my face, the roar of the triple, and wearing the sides of the tires off.  Using the cruise as a defense mechanism, it helps keep the speed down, this sucker is fast, and fortunately the cruise only works to 100.  Like I said, in my defense...and parked next to the Street Triple in my garage, which has everything you need on a motorcycle and nothing you don’t, I feel a ride coming on over some curvy roads I know.  Therapy from therapy, I don’t need no doctor, just two wheels and a motor.  And no, I really rather not ride a Buick.

When Jesus left his disciples, he prayed to his father to not take them out of the world, but to protect them.  We are of God, but still live in this world.  With two kingdoms fighting for our souls, God’s and Satan’s.  And many Christians, myself included have warned new believers to get out of the world, seclude yourself from it.  Avoid any and all contact with it, and don’t get mixed up with it as long as you live.  Just the opposite of what Jesus prayed.  We are to be in the world, just not of it.  We are God’s, bought with a price, and belong to him.  And he protects us.  And think about it, where did Jesus spend all his time?  Where were you when you heard about Christ?  And where was the person who shared Jesus with you?  Out in the world!  If we are to be salt and light where are we to be it?  Out in the world!  Not covering our light under a basket, or behind a windshield, but in it.  Just not of it.  I rode behind a fairing, radio and cruise on.  But I was not of it.  Don’t fall into the trap of segregating yourself from the lost.  True bad company corrupts good morals, and we are to not even say “God bless you” to the cultists, but we are to walk in the freedom Jesus did, in the spirit protected and guided from God above.  Not from our own rules, but by God’s.  God is calling us by his spirit to live in the world, just not be overcome by it.  To not be contaminated by it, but bring life to a dying generation.  We are to be a release for those in bondage, ambassadors of Jesus Christ, not seclude ourselves with those who believe like us, shielded by doctrine and not God.  We need to live in the spirit, and enjoy all the freedoms Jesus died for.

It is possible we are walking in sin if we aren’t out in the world becoming the light of Christ and isolating ourselves.  Without us to be that light, the world is left in darkness, and it is left with only the rocks to praise God, to cry out.  To do what we are supposed to do, but neglect to do.  So try a different approach today, ask Jesus what he wants you to do, without giving him the choices.  Be warned, you will encounter Lazaruses laid in your path, don’t step over them.  You may encounter those who are the least of them, be reminded that what you do to them you are doing to Jesus.  Try showing love and courtesy, compassion and understanding, knowing that if not for the grace of God, there go I.  Find the freedom of getting out from behind the windshield of religion and experience life in the spirit.  Maybe even talk or ride with someone your parents warned you about.  God will protect you, and like he says, obedience is better than sacrifice.  Some ride protected from the wind, I like to ride in it.  I am selfish, I want everything I can get from my ride and my God.  I want to be blessed, so if you ask, “No, I really rather not ride a Buick.”  But I will share in the blessings he provides while riding it.  I love Jesus, guilty serving a life sentence. Life!

Now about those plush animals on your trunks....

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

home cookin' and not a microwwave in sight

With a few exceptions, very few, I try to avoid chain restaurants.  I like to eat fresh prepared food from family recipes.  Taste the different spices that make one carne asada different from another, but look forward to both.  No premade hamburger patty, but one made by hand, not quite round, but thick and juicy.  Local delicacies that make you detour to an area just to eat.  When traveling through New England breakfast means a muffin, grilled.  A few seconds on the flat top giving it a whole new flavor.  Recently in Tulare I had my wrap grilled, and what a difference a few seconds made.  Personal touches that separate the ordinary from the exceptional, and make even the mundane flavorful.  No secret ingredients, just the right proportions....made by loving hands where a dash of this and a pinch of that make all the difference.  No written recipe to work from except from the heart.  Years ago when traveling it was looking for signs that offered home cooking, which I never understood, don’t you go out to eat because you don’t want to eat at home?  Didn’t you want a Big Mac to taste better than your mom’s burgers on the stove?  No matter how much I tried, I could never make a sub like Duke’s, and my salads never have the same something they do when eating out.  Same ingredients, but something is different...maybe it is the atmosphere, being waited on, or drinking a Coke at the table, but home cookin’ today is much different than even a few years ago. 

For me home cookin’ means roast beef, with mashed potatoes, from real potatoes, corn on the cob, and gravy on everything, except the corn.  Fresh biscuits, and apple pie for dessert.  Ice cream on top, all made fresh except for the ice cream, unless it was at Grandma’s, where we made it with the old hand crank.  A meal that took hours to prepare and was gone in minutes, with conversation uninterrupted by cell phones.  A meal, that was home cookin’.  Today home cookin’ has a totally different meaning, as for breakfast it is a microwave breakfast sandwich, or Pop Tarts.  Lunch is fast food, or a salad made yesterday, kept fresh by the wonder of refrigeration.  Dinner for many is microwaved lasagna, reheated left overs from last night, renuked to the point of hardness, and gravy comes in a can from the store.  Add water to make potatoes from a bag, salad from a bag, at least it was in the produce section once, and a Klondike bar.  At least the ice cream is the same.  Or better.  So when home cookin’ is seen by today’s generation, it means something completely different.  And I can’t blame them for not wanting home cooking, they want something different than a microwaved surprise...and so restaurants with home cookin’ are fading away with the generation that once was invited in by them.  Today 7-11 sells breakfast sandwiches, AM-PM sells lunch, and any drive in is a drive through any more.  Giving a new meaning to the old signs “eat here, get gas.”  And fading from our society are waitresses and waiters, once professionals, now replaced by starving students.  Who stand behind a counter and take your order by number, “give me a number 3 to go,”  even the old stand by “do you want fries with that?” is passe any longer. 

Seconds are a thing of the past too, or thirds as there was always some potatoes left, an extra piece of corn, or an extra roll.  To sop up the left over gravy.  Home cookin’, cookin’ from the heart.  Another thing that my generation will not pass on to future ones.  I can see the displays in museums, “people really ate like that?”  Clean your plate having a different meaning than pickup your wrappers and throw them away.  Last night’s feast is today’s lunch special, leftovers, but still tasty when reheated, not renuked.  Remember when Mom made enough so you could have the rest for lunch?  Try that with you fast food burger, or salad sweepings.  And yet one store tells us “have it your way.”  Another tells us “you need a break today.”  As long as we like the way they prepare it.  So I will hang onto the last vestiges of home cookin’ as long as I can...until I can only eat the memories.

“Give me that old time religion, it was good enough for me...” goes the chorus of an old song.  A personal relationship with a loving caring God. Who was a real person, and still is.  Yet today many are satisfied with a fast food god, one they can text to, spend time while streaming, and avoid all contact with others.  With the advent of satellite services, some churches today are beamed to other locations, with a few staff members there to assist.  Make the hour go by as fast as possible so we can get onto the next hurry up and wait event.  Some think that is church, and sadly it can be.  But even worse is when they confuse Jesus for the church, and think that knowing God is a fast food experience.  Eating was a personal and almost spiritual event for the Jews.  It was personal when you ate, a time to share, to fellowship, and to get to know others.  Jesus made it even more personal at the last supper, and maybe the best example of home cookin’ was feeding the 5000.  With leftovers for later, for just as spending time with God fills you, Jesus knows you will get hungry again, and need food.  And more time with him.  Home cookin’.  Feeding the body, but also the soul.  Something one quick church buffet on Sunday morning cannot do.  We get hungry everyday, and we need to be fed, every day.  Real meals, not fillers, not a quickie snack.  We need real food, soul food if you will, that feeds the soul and our spirit.  How many times do you leave church full?  Or wanting more?  The 5000 left full, with more for later, a good example of feeding by the holy spirit.  Scripture tells us that we re filled to overflowing, pressed down and shaken, like you do for your Slurpee, to get all you can.  But unlike after downing the Slurpee, and you are still thirsty, the spirit satisfies.  And at the same time has you desiring more.  Do you desire more of Jesus?  Is a daily feeding even enough anymore?  Do you snack on the spirit, looking forward to that special meal time with him?  Or do you settle for a fast food relationship with God, when he offers home cookin’?  Cookin’ from the heart and soul.  His recipe written on our hearts.  He knows just what it takes to fill us up, but also to make us hunger again.  And he can feed one just as much as he did the 5000, personally.  Your food cooked just the way you like it, and not a microwave in sight.  And you find you can have it your way, because you find you want it his way. 

Jesus is home cookin’, sadly religion is fast food.  Both fill you up, one leaves you hungry.  Never satisfied, only in Jesus will you be.  Religion served family style, we are part of the family of God, and as he passes the blessings, we pass the plates.  Each one with a promise of love, to not just meet the need, but to be part of a relationship we look forward to.  How many used to make fun of Sunday pot roast, but would travel 100 miles to eat that meal again?  If Jesus is missing from your church experience, if it is not personal, seek him now,  wherever you are. You plus him equals church.  Enjoy the fellowship, let him feed you, and watch as you grow in him.  Home cookin’ never tasted so good as cookin’ from the heart.  It takes longer like any good relationship does, and always ends with dessert.  Even after a big meal, we always find room for dessert.  Do you always find time for Jesus? 

Love is a recipe that must have the ingredient of Jesus in it.  God is love, more than an experience, he is with us always.  Full but yet hungry after religion?  You need Jesus.  Why leave the table still hungry, when you can leave full, and with dessert to come.  Heaven awaits us, and we will all get our just desserts.  Only Jesus offers and delivers heaven.  All else is hell, and you cannot have it your way.  Jesus allows you to have it your way today, make your ways his, and enjoy home cookin’.  And not a microwave in sight.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthw25biker.blogspot.com

it is easier to ask forgiveness than permission

We never quite know what lies ahead on the road we are traveling.  When in a hurry, whether it be for a time on our schedule, hunger driven by where to eat, or looking for gas before we go into the push mode, we can always look back, look ahead with great expectation, but realize that we spend most of our time in the right now.  How many conversations are of roads passed by wondering where they wander, or of places we wished we would have stopped.  Old drive ins where the smell of cheeseburgers draws us in, but we ride on.  Cycle shops that caught our eye, but not our brand.  Or worse yet, our brand, and we miss the chance for just the t-shirt we were looking for.  All have happened to us, and it seems many of our best road side interludes are not planned, but based on a split second decision when they catch our attention.  One of of our unofficial riding rules is never go back the way we came, and in doing so miss the second chance to correct our first bad decision.  So over the miles we now stop when something catches our eye, or someone on the road tells us about it.  We plan days crammed with lesser miles, and end up riding more, while seeing more as we go.  All because we follow our instinct of what, where, why is that catching our attention.  But it really comes down to one simple premise, we don’t know if we will ever get back that way again.

Sometimes it a simple thing like the day we rode over 400 miles in Florida, only to arrive 135 miles from where we started.  Getting caught in rain, but finding a Honda store just closing, but had enough time to sell us a $10 “Stupid Hurts” shirt I had been looking for. Made my day.  Another time it was taking the wrong Y when we came to it, and finding Vallecito Lake, and ending up moving there.  Sure beat the Jaycee picnic I was invited to.  Or wandering into the Jackson Inn, out of gas, but not out of hunger, and needing a place to stay.  The hotel part was closed, still renovating, but we could stay if we didn’t mind unpacking the mattresses.  We did and it turned out to be their 100th birthday that night, celebrated over the best pan fried steak I ever had.  Sometimes the middle of nowhere is exactly where you need to be.  Or the desk clerk at the motel in Victoria, giving me the key the closed pool and spa, we had it to ourselves, after she called ahead for the restaurant to stay open after we arrived late, and without a reservation.   All unplanned, but all welcome on the ride.

So we ride alone, no group or crowd rides as I refer to them, for in a group you need to get the crowd’s permission.  They travel like Goldilocks, food must satisfy all, motels the same, and they ride a homogenized ride, filled with Denny’s and Holiday Inns.  I have been told I ride too fast, too far, or to too out of the way places.  So we ride alone, and our stories of where we ate, rode, slept, and what we saw are always the topic of conversation.  As expressed by Bruce on a Canadian ride, “how do you find these places?”  He spent the morning looking for a landmark he had read about, we spent it at the Trev Deeley Museum.  Upstairs in an old warehouse, since moved, we saw the original, and upon arriving we sat in the President’s office, he wanted to here about our trip and our rides.  And gave us access to the limited access museum.  But the highlight which should been the museum, could have been the trade magazine doing an article, ended up when a man in a wheelchair showed up, and they had no elevator.  And with his permission, used a fork lift to lift him into freight door just like they had for the 50+ motor cycles upstairs.  His smile later told more than words, he had seen something many others had never even heard of.  Trev Deeley is the Harley Davidson importer for almost 100 years.  Talk about history....And as our travels go, finding it easier to ask forgiveness when we see something and stop, than ask for permission.  Best expressed by the desk clerk at the Cedar Grove Inn.  Our AC had quit in the middle of the night, so we found another room, it just happened to be where General Grant had slept when he won Vicksburg.  Even his bed, the most expensive room in the place.  When we told her when checking out, her response was simple, “I’m glad someone had the sense to do the right thing.”  Ah, Southern hospitality...

Prayer may have had something to do with all these, but we seldom ask God about every move we make.  Not the relationship that brags of trusting him.  Some will take a fatalistic attitude, of why pray, God is going to do his will anyway.  Some just ask foolishly, or non-specific.  Some add if its your will...we find it is easier to just ride.  When God travels with you, you just know when and where to stop.  More than a feeling, beyond words, it comes from knowing him, and being in fellowship with him.  Meditating as Psalm 1 says, we prefer to think of it as hanging out with Jesus.  So why ask God?  Because prayer is more than asking, because it involves listening.  Which is more important, why ask if you don’t want an answer?  And so we go down many roads not planned, maybe not even prayed for, but trusting God to bless us.  Some are timid in asking, I prefer the personal approach.  Knowing Jesus, and living in the spirit.  Not just asking, but doing, knowing that if I am wrong I can ask forgiveness and receive it.  While some still seek permission, and do nothing.  The only things you really fail at are the ones you never try.  Which is why so many never leave the four walls of church, never get out among the people like Jesus advised us, and see where the blessings and action are.  They live in a homogenized world, only know Christians, only use Christians for work, and only hang out with others who believe as they do.  Raising their kids the same way, and wondering why they fail when out in the world.  Never reaching beyond what they think God has for them...not knowing they are not trusting God.  Never really sharing the gospel, and missing out on seeing the Bible come alive when you spend time with God-alone.  Or riding.  Outside the safety of the church.  Where did Jesus spend most of his time?  Not in church...on the road.  Do we see a theme here?  He was out among the people, imagine if he had to ask the Pharisees permission to be out among the poor, homeless, hookers, bikers, and others who didn’t measure up?  Where would you be?  Where would he find you now?

So we ride places, see things, stop and check things out when we are on the road.  We may never return there, why miss a blessing?  Or a memory, a testimony?  You may be called upon by God to minister, and be blessed.  It can happen anywhere, at any time.  On a tour of the Ephrata Cloisters, a religious village in Pennsylvania, after the tour the guide asked the group if there were any questions.  The Cloisters were a village where people waited for the return of Jesus, and they wanted to be ready.  So the guide mentioned the rapture many times, and when asked about it, didn’t really know.  So I did, to a room full of people, I shared the gospel.  Not asking permission, the spirit gave me words, and many were interested.  The guide was relieved, and our day was made.  If we had asked, I might have been turned down, but God had a different ending.  So it is easier to trust God, and maybe have to ask forgiveness, than to ask permission and be refused.  Life is not a safe, secure ride, it is the detours that often make it exciting.  Interesting, and worth it.  Dare to trust God, follow his spirit, and see where he guides.  And never ride alone.  Jesus offers forgiveness, you don’t need his permission to be saved.  Accept his invitation today and start living.  His will be done, but only if you know him personally.  What would Jesus do?  You have to ask?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com