My Dad, he not the car person, bought his first BMW, a 1969 1600, the
smaller engined 2002 after reading it was one of the ten best cars in the
world. He wasn’t looking for performance, but longevity, and it was a big step
up from his 1963 Bug. Back when BMW was an unknown, “British what?” was often
the question asked when he told others what he bought, and BMW owners would
respectfully flash their lights at each other. A far cry from the yuppie
standard of today, they were thought peculiar, but offered great performance, at
a semi-reasonable price, you could buy a Camaro for the same money, and all my
friends knew what they were. But in 1972 after getting my license, he sold it
to me for the trade in value against his knew 2002, all of $1900! And I can say
my first car was a 1969 Turf/green BMW. No yuppie then and not one now, it was
about performance, and R&T, CD, and MT became the guides for parts,
accessories, jackets, and anything else that said BMW on it. The sports car
guys knew what I had, and that was enough, even if the rank and file didn’t.
And one quick ride through the curves, the sound of the engine, and German
engineering made them believers. Yes we were thought of as strange, normal can
be so boring, my first and last BMW...
Now BMW dealerships were few and far between, so we frequented Foreign Car
Repair Shops, with owners named Bruno, Hans, Dieter, and Wolf. Men who loved
cars,and had us as a captive audience. Although Markham Motors had sold my Dad
both his cars new, he was too far away in Bernardsville, his shop an old livery
stable, so we visited Continental Motors, or the new, first BMW only dealership
we ever heard of, JMK Motors. New and bright, but plain as were the cars, all
conversation was interpreted by one of the owners, whose English was not much
better than my German. But trust, exclusive dealership, and location made it
the go to place. The world of BMW was changing, Max Hoffman who originally
imported them and put them on the map had given way to BMW of North America, a
factory importer, and the customer base was changing. As you will
see.....
I was sitting in the waiting room getting an oil change, and looking at the
pictures in the German magazines, all in German of course. A young girl and her
mother were across from me, and the girl had been crying loudly when I entered.
She quickly composed herself, probably embarrassed, and in a few minutes started
up again. The loud sobs, the tears, the temper tantrum about to explode, I
wanted out, but my car wasn’t ready. I tried to look away, but her mother made
eye contact with me, and told me “I don’t know what to do, we bought her this
car for her birthday and she doesn’t want it.” Didn’t want it, how many jobs
and paper routes did I have just to earn the money to buy one, and she had one
given to her, and she didn’t like it? And then the daughter cried out “Mother I
told you I wanted the blue one, why didn’t you listen? I hate the red one!”
Hey lady, trade you a respectful son for your piece of trash daughter, if you
throw in the car. Red will do just fine. And my first taste of what BMW would
become, a far cry from the driver’s car it was to the yuppie overpriced
semi-status symbol of today. My BMW is long gone, but I can still see that
wretched daughter throwing a fit, pity the fool that marries her. Wanna bet she
has a purse dog? Or should be one?
Perhaps the saddest statement here is she didn’t appreciate what she was
given. She only knew what she thought she wanted, and would be miserable either
way. A lesson I have seen others live through. Whether it be cars,
motorcycles, I know guys who trade every year for a few more horsepower, their
low mileage trade in a great bargain for the next person, and still don’t enjoy
it, looking for what is coming next year. Unsatisfied, more concerned by what
their peers think, they are miserable, and never can get enough, or at least
what they think they want. They never look behind them, and see the trail of
debris they leave, including the values they leave their kids.
When I first entered ministry, I sought advice from those in it, and found
two competing views. One the church based, or religion based told me to
establish a base, i.e. income from donations before I start. It only makes
sense. But the one I chose to follow was from men who followed God, and were
led by his spirit, “don’t give your vision to the church, they will try to
control you and take it away.” And truer words were never spoken. So I prayed,
and God promised me manna for my garage, my refrigerator, and my mortgage. No
budget for ministry, no special offering, he would provide, and I wouldn’t have
to ask, for he gives good gifts, and if I asked it wouldn’t be a gift. Try that
one on organized religion....
But he reminded me of Paul, who rarely ever took donations, stayed up late
making tents so he could support himself and not be a burden to others. Nor
dependent on them, for whoever feeds you also has power over you, and he had all
the power from God he would ever need. And would do this voluntarily....as his
heart led him to do, and set an example for me.
I have come to trust God because he is trustworthy, dependable, knows my
needs, and takes care of me in love. I have never asked for anything for the
ministry, and yet he meets all our needs, surprising us all along the way. Last
night I was reminded of how he stretches our small incomes for his glory, as
when the Dustin Arms pantry was bare, I had some money I had saved for awhile
for just such an occasion. And that was the occasion, and when I gave it I said
“watch Jesus multiply it,” I had seen it before. Last night, a month later, I
was shown an accounting of how the money was spent, and how God had multiplied
it many times over. It seems that trusting God was the best investment, and
after many trips to the market, $20 still remained, enough to buy a man sheets
and a pillow. A big deal if you haven’t any, and we both marveled at what the
Lord had done. He truly is Jehovah Jireh, our provider. A lesson from Paul, I
hadn’t realized I had been taught, sometimes the day to day life and finances
overwhelm me, but they don’t Jesus. If he could pull a coin from the mouth of a
fish, if he could feed 5000 with no money, if he could meet all my needs
according to his riches and glory, why would he not do it for me? Or you?
And so the doxology tells us to “praise God from whom all blessings flow,”
and I do. Manna from heaven, when we need it. Manna which means what is it? I
can tell you it is a who, and love from a father who loves his children. Who
takes joy in blessing them, and who desires they minister as they go, being a
living gospel about his son. Is his love included in your budget? Many cars
have come and gone in my life. I even spent a good part of my career in
automotive service, and the lesson learned that day from that spoiled brat has
stuck with me. That day I didn’t know it, but I learned appreciation for what I
have, and also for what I don’t have. Her greed and selfishness was her
ultimate driving machine, driving her away from God, and never letting her enjoy
the blessings. I rather boast of Jesus as my ultimate driving machine, whose
spirit drives me to see things, do things, and share things impossible without
him. His spirit drives me to love, forgive, to share, minister, and not beg for
money. He takes care of it all. And I have an appreciation of what he gave up
so I can live. No car can do that, no matter what color. Paul knew it wasn’t
about money, but meeting needs, the basis of ministry, seeing a need and meeting
it. He would rather do without than become a burden, that is love. That is
Jesus in action. That is putting feet to your faith, that is trusting God.
That is the parable of the two BMW’s, and why BMW is not the ultimate driving
machine, and why Jesus is.
Like scripture says, “praise God from whom all blessings flow...” The
gospel of Jesus Christ, simple so I can get it, free so I can afford it. If
only my Dad knew what he started that day....
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com