As motorcyclists, we have gotten used to parking our bike where we can see
it when going into a restaurant. Maybe just to keep an eye on it for security,
but often to look out and gaze and wonder of all the wanderings we have done and
those yet to come. Nothing like looking out at your ride when on the road, and
thinking “that’s all I have with me,” and knowing that it is all you need. And
it is not unusual to find kids of all ages looking at our bike as they pass into
or our of the diner. Some stopping to look back, some wishing they had ridden
theirs, and some wondering what it must feel like. Over the years we have had
many conversations with all types about the bikes and our rides, and listened to
so many old Triumph stories, “I had one once, it never ran right, but I sure
loved it, wish I had it back,” no surprise what the dinner conversation, and
after will be that day. Seeing our California plates in Maine, or Indiana, they
ask “did you really ride here?” and can’t believe you really did. They just
spent the last 15 minutes cruising he parking lot looking for a closer space to
the door. So we are used to it....but still enjoy it every time.
After eating lunch in Columbus, Nebraska, we walked out to our bikes, and
while getting on, saw a little boy staring through the door at us. We had seen
him while eating with his family, he had followed us out after seeing the
helmets. As he stood and stared, we waved, his smile saying what words cannot.
Later it would be back in his car seat in the mini van, and I’ll bet he couldn’t
wait to get home to play with his toy cars and ride is bike, making sounds of a
motorcycle. No one ever looked at an SUV like that...
Theresa and I rode to lunch on Saturday, riding our Tiger 800, fresh from
its first 7300 mile ride. Parking by the door, a great spot opened up and we
took it, so many older men stopped and looked, kept walking and looked back, and
could be seen muttering to themselves. It seems riding knows no age limits, no
social boundaries, and should be listed in the Constitution as no respecter of
color, race, or creed. We were watching as we ate, and we find it amusing, and
complimentary when it happens, for we know how it affects our lives. But one
person stood out that day, as he stood by the door waiting for his family. He
was about 10 years old, a young Asian boy with glasses, who had been seated with
his family by us. He and his brother were into their I-whatevers for the meal,
but when leaving, and waiting for his family, he stood mesmerized by the Tiger.
You could almost hear his imagination going at speeds it never knew existed, of
experiencing life on more than a 3x5 screen, and wishing, hoping, while
wondering what it felt like. His family came and interrupted him in the middle
of his dream, he walked by, then looked back, the others too busy to notice.
Tucked away in the safety and seclusion of his parent’s SUV, he may never know
how good the wind in your face feels, how exciting that first ride is, as it
never changes, and how life is better experienced rather than read about or
studied in school. I can almost hear him asking his Dad about motorcycles, and
getting the lectures of how dangerous they are, and those that ride them. So
middle class, so respectful, and all the time so sad. The screen he sees life
through may not be a 3x5, but his windshield is just as effective at keeping him
from experiencing life. We call them cages, his just has a lot of windows
instead of bars.
On our trip so many people followed my wife on Facebook, with comments like
“we feel like we are riding with you.” “We feel like we are along,” and other
carefully not thought out responses. to which I add, “no you don’t,” you didn’t
feel the heat in the desert. The cool at 11,000 feet on Trail Ridge Road. You
missed the pine smell in the mountains, the stink of chicken dung in the
country, and the drips of rain, then the cloudburst in Kingman. And you missed
the double rainbow after...” Because you weren’t there. But you could have
been, and can be.....
Talking with a man last week, know as “The Bible Man,” he expressed that
because it wasn’t in the Bible, it must not be true. What he really meant while
we talked, was that because he hadn’t read it yet, it must not be true. His
walk and relationship was based on education, mine was based on experience. I
could prove Jesus in my life by the scriptures, he only had the scriptures. He
was comfortable in quoting them for each occasion, and it impressed others, but
where were his testimonies? How exciting has it been sitting in church and
Bible study for years, and that being all his testimony would reveal? He read
the book, but hadn’t spent time behind the wheel, studying to find himself
approved, but of what, by who? At first he was offended when I told him his
education didn’t impress me, tell me about Jesus in your life, and I think it
made him think. He was Bible driven, no doubt saved, but was he spirit driven?
Was he like the young kid standing at the door, wondering what it felt like to
experience Jesus for real, while his church told him “time to go,” as they
loaded him into the van. He talked of faith, but his steps of it were small and
far between. His biggest challenge was his studies, his scriptural quotes his
testimony. Alive but not living, knowing so much, but knowing so little.
Jesus tells us that the word of our testimony, and the blood of the lamb is
what saves us. Not studying, not memorizing, not spending your life in class.
But getting out and living for Christ. Being where the action is. Then sharing
it with others. What a different story our bikes tell on the road rather than
sitting in our garage. Like the man who bragged about owning a motorcycle, we
ride. And know the difference. His 50,000 miles on a 10 year old bike to him
is a lot, to me, a year of riding. One owns, the other rides. Now tell me
about your experience in Christ? I want to listen, and so do others. Jesus did
his part, the spirit is doing his, are you doing yours? Or are you standing
like a kid, wondering what a life in the spirit is really like? Or have you
long ago passed him by, like the old men who pass by and look back, remembering
how it once was, if only I could have one more ride...
Jesus gives you that chance. So get out and ask him into your life today,
and again. Study to find the life you live approved in Christ, seeing things
through the eyes of the holy spirit. Make a difference in your family, your
church, and your own life. Experience Jesus everyday, and rather than reading,
start living. Giving scripture a new meaning when you can relate to it. God
once told me “if the seat of your pants is wearing out faster than the soles of
your shoes, you have a problem.” Works with motorcycle tires too....something
no Facebook following will ever match. It is that personal, so hang on for the
ride of your life. That wind in your face just may be the spirit Peter
experienced at Pentecost....and how that changed the world. Let it change yours
today.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com