Friday, March 4, 2016

postcards written from home













Over the years of traveling by motorcycle, we have gotten the packing thing down.  For each new bike we travel on, we make variations, sometimes adding a tank bag, sometimes not.  The hard bags may be smaller, causing us to maybe not take an extra t-shirt, or mail the new ones home.  We learned to take what we need, not what we want, and often times don’t use all of that.  But as we travel, many years ago we started collections rfrigerator magnets, they are cheap and small, and our fridge is covered with magnetic postcards of our trips.  But riding with a postcard writer, we pick up postcards to send to certain friends and family to remind them of the good time we are having, being free from traffic, work, kids, hassle, responsibility, and housework.  All good reasons to get on your bike and ride.  But as the ride progresses, and as the first few days of enthusiasm and adrenaline wear off, fewer postcards are purchased, and even fewer are written.  The old stand by of “having a good time, wish you were here” fades as you are glad to be alone, and soon the evenings are spent resting rather than writing.  Planning the next day, rather than trying to explain the day’s ride in a 3x5 area.  The print that got smaller, trying to include all the details that at first you wrote about, now is down to a few simple lines.  And the message gets less and less personal, until the evenings are devoid of writing and the postcards pile up in the tank bag.  And are forgotten until we get home and unpack, and then are written and mailed, with terse messages and a local postmark.  Sometimes weeks after we have returned, and they haven’t moved off the desk or counter.  Finally written to those we care about, or care to brag to, and an evening spent remembering the ride.  It is these postcards written from home that have always had us look back, as well as catch up, and put the final mark on being home.  And of wishing we were still out riding.
But with Instagram and Facebook, I know the postcard sales must be declining.  Too many pictures taken by Theresa on the back get sent out that night, with one line notes explaining.  No more 5 cent stamps, no more local postcards, now she must rely on her memory, or mine, as often either one of asks “do you remember where this was taken?”  And maybe a part of Americana is being lost in the transition, or translation, as what we see may not be representative of the town, the area, the tourism, or the people.  We may miss a shot of the two headed cow, but that is what the town is known for, and a reason to pay more attention next time around.  But maybe this instant email gratification has also made us less personal, and available to any who care to look.  No more personal notes from the road to home, now whoever is on the mailing list gets it, for better or worse.  Plus I tend to be old fashioned, I like to get mail, and hold letters, books, magazines, and postcards in my hands, read them in real time, not on a tiny screen.  And also check the postmarks to see where and when they were mailed.  Postcards are an interesting trip to the past, as seen through a different photographers eyes, on a different day, from another time.  Besides, we hang them up too for us to remember, instead of going through thousands of pictures trying to remember the name of the diner where we had the grilled muffin, with the message on the back, “family owned,” and the trip begins again. Or continues as if it never stopped.
Nothing is as exciting as when you first become a Christian.  When you discover Jesus is real, and the enthusiasm, which means God within, is all new and fresh.  When the highs of being saved haven’t really set in yet, and every time you read your Bible it is fresh and new.  You have to call a friend and tell them, and your time is now consisting of church, Bible studies, and fellowshipping with friends.  The old is put away, and only remembered when sharing your testimony, or running into an old friend who asks “what’s new?”  And he isn’t.  But as on the first few days of a long trip, as the days pass and the miles add up, as the time changes with the zones, we tend to fall back and want to rest.  Maybe stay home on a Friday night instead of fellowshipping.  You miss an occasional church meeting, maybe out on a ride, and new habits form.  The initial excitement of knowing Jesus is blended into everyday life, and soon becomes mundane, or just a part of it.  Where it was all emotion, now a void sets in, and sometimes you just don’t feel like praying, or reading, or going to church.  And you begin to wonder if you are backsliding, as the talk about you is.  Suddenly you are not as religious as your friends, and you wonder, and they wonder about your walk with Christ.  And realize you are more normal than you think, and there is more to Jesus than emotions, than Bible studies, than church and fellowship.  All good things, but when not done in the spirit they become just things.  It is then we need to fall back on the spirit, to reread the postcards God sent to us from his home in heaven, and spend time with him again.  The scriptures become more personal when the spirit guides you, and reveals the mysteries of Christ to you.  A few verses can mean hours of reflection, and the handwriting of his word on your heart is irreplacable.  And suddenly you are recharged, and find what you tried to do on your own wasn’t of Christ, but of yourself.  The New Covenant of Jesus Christ tells us everything comes from him, and not from the law.  We will fail, screw up, do dumb things, but he still loves us.  Jesus changes us, not us or a religion.  And if they have, you still have time to change.  To go new places in Christ, to live new testimonies, and write more postcards.  Rather than sit in church, you get out where the action is, for even though some postcards are written from home, it is out on the road, among people, where the action is.  Where Jesus spent most of his time, and where the New Testament became the word. 
A photo captures a moment, a life in Christ is a movie.  An action film, where you can be part of the action, or part of the audience.  Your choice.  But it is the postcards written, the personal messages from friends traveling that can wake us up, and get us out.  The scriptures do the same thing, when empowered by the spirit.  And God has written many postcards to and for us, with many more to come.  Not just an Instagram, God is more than a moment, he is forever.  And when you flip over the postcard, and see the writing on the back, it really makes us wish we were there.  And we can be....
We save postcards, they make our trip and other’s trips more personal.  Same with God, so spend some time with him today.  Tell him about a ride, a trip, a meal, or another memory.  Send him a personal postcard, and when it comes to the wishing you were here part, know he is, for he never left you.  He has been along for the ride the whole time, and maybe is just waiting to hear from you.  Don’t you think you owe him a postcard or two? 
The best rides or meals are ones shared with friends.  Share one with God today, tell him about it, he loves to hear from you.  A form of prayer, not asking, but sharing with the best friend you will ever have.  Having a great time?  Wish you were here?  Don’t be surprised when a postcard from Jesus shows up in your prayer mail.  Postage paid...note the return address.  A postcard written from home, no matter where you are. 
love with compassion,
Mike
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