I was faced with the situation of a new bike, a weeks vacation, enough
money to go, but where to go? I had just had the 500 mile service done on my
new FJ1100, after all it was a week old, and with Labor Day approaching, had
strung together 9 days of where to ride? After a sleepless day at work, I
decided upon a trip to Pennsylvania to see my grandparents, some 2500 miles from
where we lived in New Mexico. Doing the math, it was simple, 3 days out, 3 days
to visit, with 3 days left to return. Ride about 800 miles per day, no big
deal. And thanks to the Eisenhower Interstate System to use most of the way, I
lived over 200 miles from any interstate, I could see what the Yamaha could do,
playing dodge the cops all the way. Pretending I was some hardened criminal
along the way gave me a psychological advantage, the long stretch across Kansas
almost got me, and with the most cops per mile state of Ohio ahead, having had a
ticket free ride, I had avoided a revenue draining side of the road routine, I
was glad to cross over into Indiana. But I had been talking to myself for too
long, the conversation inside my head had become boring, and I needed off the
freeways. I needed curves, I needed back roads, I needed to get back to
America....and help was just over the state line. About 10 miles into Indiana,
I stopped at a rest stop, where an Indiana Highway Patrol car sat alone. Just
the two of us, and the old man waved hello to me, so I decided to take a chance,
and walked over. After exchanging pleasantries, I told him how bored I was and
what and where in Indiana could I get a cure for it. He waved to the trunk of
his car, opened it up, got out a map, closed the trunk and spread it out over
it. Showing me roads that would eventually get me to eastern Pennsylvania, but
take only a few hundred miles longer. This guy understood, and after outlining
good roads, roads that any biker would appreciate, he carefully folded the map
back up, handed it to me, and wished me a fun and safe trip,with a sparkle from
his eyes that told me I was onto something special. He knew the speed limits
had just been raised....And they were, and I was, and as I soon found out
southern Indiana is a great place to ride, hills, curves, and all the things
that make for a great ride, with little or no traffic to contend with. And even
cars waved...go figure. A ride that has taken me back to Indiana many times, I
even came back another way he showed me through the Hoosier National Forest,
giving me a new appreciation of Indiana, and a brief respite from the freeways.
Even the rain through most of Pennsylvania I didn’t mind, that’s how much the
back roads had calmed me. And even when stopping to take off my rain suit,
laughed along with the State Policeman who stopped next to me, and told me to
keep my speed down. After a small plea, and no ticket, he laughed and pointed
up to a helicopter, as he laughed and told me what a target I made in my yellow
rain suit, what was I thinking? And I arrived at my grandparents house, I had
called my Grandmother to warn her, but not my Grandpa. And he just happened to
be sitting on the front porch as I went by, and leaped in the air he saw me!
And he was overjoyed, and for the next 3 days we ate, visited, ate some more,
caught up on family business, and shared a time that all these years we kept
secret. No one, including my Nana and aunt and uncle, who lived only 3 miles
away, nor my parents who only were another hour out, knew I had ridden back.
There is something about a new bike, and the time to ride it, with someone
special on the other end. I don’t remember much about the ride home, except the
last 700 miles form Oklahoma City to Farmington it rained, and I got home a day
early, the ride out is always better than the ride back. A concept even our dog
gets, she is full of energy when her walk starts, but slows down as she gets
closer to home. And lest you think she is tired, she will be up and ready
again, just mention “walk.”
In my box of maps I have saved over the years, whenever I come across the
one from Indiana, I stop and pause. I think of the kind state trooper, showing
me ways and roads I never would have found without him. It was never if I was
going to make it to my destination, he just made the how more interesting. And
I can still see his face, white hair, and glasses, and his smile. An angel of
the highway you might say...I’d like to think he was. But angels today are
found everywhere, and it is trendy to talk of your angel. Of not outriding him,
how they follow you, and many think of them as winged, playing harps. Where we
get the word cherubic from, but angels are real, and can and have appeared in
many forms when needed. True we have a guardian angel looking out for us, but
he is from God, who oversees things. For angels are really messengers from him,
and we won’t turn into an angel in heaven. That’s fantasy, real life in Christ
is more exciting. So next time you are called “little angel,” or angelic,
remember they were created beings, to serve us. And also know one third
rebelled in heaven along with Satan, and are out to get you. But for the grace
of God they might, good thing he is the protector and the lifter of our heads.
But we do have one angelic function on earth, to tell others about Jesus. We
are his ambassadors, and we represent him. For it takes people with the holy
spirit in them to deliver the message of salvation, for we were once lost, and
now saved through Jesus. No angel will ever know the born again experience, but
still knows all about it. Jesus makes it personal to and for us, and the angels
rejoice when one is saved. Angels have no salvation, but do have a real purpose
in our lives. But we have the choice to follow or deny Jesus, to follow means
rejoicing, to deny means hell, which was made for the devil and his fallen
angels. It is our choice to make, and God will send angels along the way to
help. to guide, and to protect. Sometimes unseen, sometimes in the form of
man, but always from God. Telling us to be kind to strangers, for they might be
an angel. And many have missed the opportunity to see an angel God may have
sent due to plain old rudeness. If we cannot be kind to someone we don’t know,
how can we be kind to ones we do? Jesus tells us to love him with all our
heart, and to love our neighbor as ourselves. Maybe entertain an angel sent
for you, maybe in the form of a trooper with a map....a nurse, someone in the
hospital, or someone sent to comfort. All because Jesus loves you. A trait he
wishes us to carry on.
There is something about a new bike, getting to know it, and even the same
road can feel different on it. The old roads become new when Jesus comes into
our lives. We become a new creature, the old us gone, so let the old man die.
Take on the things of Christ, and see things his way. You may even encounter an
angel or two along the way, but without him you will never know. I ended up
arriving home with over 6600 miles on my less than one month old motorcycle.
Many miles of memories, and a great visit with my grandparents. But it was the
chance encounter in Indiana that made the difference. Somewhere along the ride
of your life you will encounter the holy spirit, who will ask you “who is
Jesus?” He has been guiding you up until that time, and the correct answer will
get you home. Where it will take angels along the way, for the path is straight
and narrow like some freeways, and where you get off will make all the
difference. For me that day it was an old Indiana state trooper with a map to
show the way. Whom God placed where and when I needed him. But Jesus is along
for the whole ride, and doesn’t stop at the end, but goes on forever. Three
days to go, three to visit, three to return. Jesus rose from the dead in three
days, imagine what he can do when he has your entire life? Some new bikes take
a long time to break in, don’t wait any longer for Jesus, he calls, the ride is
ready, your new life is waiting. Be an angel-and then go tell someone. I saw a
lot in three days, imagine what you can in a lifetime. Jesus and motorcycles,
it just don’t get any better.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com