Years ago I had a friend named Joe, who at one time had been a tuner for
Cal Rayborn, who at one time was a great motorcycle racer. Both were from San
Diego,and among the old timers in the bike shops you would hear stories of Cal,
how they knew him as a kid, a young racer with talent, and it seems each one had
a Cal story, or knew one, or had heard one. But to those who got into
motorcycling after 1973, they never got to know Cal, as he crashed during
testing in New Zealand. This two time Daytona 200 winner and top ranked racer
was Cal to everyone, but always Calvin to Joe, and his stories were always ended
with “oh Calvin....” Joe really knew him, and was his friend. The rest of us
were just fans. But the stories of Calvin were interlaced with many other Joe
stories, and as Joe and I got to be friends, his wife an expert cake decorator
made all our birthday cakes, he got me deals on parts and was my go to guy for
motorcycles in the pre-Mickey era. As crusty as the old timers were, Joe stood
out, maybe it was the Castrol sticker on his wooden leg, I always swore if I got
a wooden leg it would have a Castrol sticker on it, but I think it was because
he had really been there, had known Calvin and the others, and spoke from the
heart, at least as well as the mind would recall. My 20 minute visits turned
into two hour visits, both of us thankful for the break from day to day life.
But one morning he told me another story, non-Calvin based, and maybe for the
first time I saw him upset.
Joe lived in an older subdivision in Chula Vista, and had raised his family
there and he and his wife still live some many years later. But when he had
come home one night after wrenching all day found a notice on his front door
that his house had been condemned. A Friday to be sure, why do we always get
bad news on Friday nights when we can’t do anything about it until Monday? But
after stewing all weekend, and he and his wife fussing, Monday morning he went
downtown to city hall and found the right person, who could explain why his home
was being taken from him. It seems that many new EPA regulations had gone into
effect since the fifties, and Joe’s house was built before they went into
place. And according to the books, his property was still zoned as industrial,
and his address was listed as a truck stop. Which it had been in the twenties,
some 70 years ago at the time. Before it was subdivided and hoses built. And
the EPA wanted to raze the house, dig up all the ground and clean it up, all at
Joe’s expense. It didn’t matter it had a house built on it for over 45 years,
the paperwork said truck stop, and so it was. Not any other home in the
subdivision, only his. And according to the young guy from the government
trying to help him, the books said truck stop, so truck stop it was. And the
battle began...
Now back in the seventies I worked at a petroleum jobber, and we sold used
oil to the BLM to be spread on dirt roads in the National Forests, it helped
keep the dust down and in its pre-asphalt state provided some protection from
erosion. Not today, where we are so pure and clean in body and mind, so you can
only imagine the oil and grease Joe’s house was built on, thirty years of truck
stop oil and grease as a foundation. And Joe fought it. Better than I would,
and without a lawyer. He had an old friend in the city government, an old time
employee, and he came out and took pictures of Joe’s house, confirming the
address, and that it was in a residential area. No court hearings, no meetings
and zoning commission nonsense, his friend simply went back in the files,
corrected the error, added the pictures and testimony if any questions arose,
and Joe’s house was once again Joe’s home. Proving the value of old friends,
common sense in action, and giving a whole new meaning to “hi I’m from the
government and I’m here to help.” Be it ever so humble, there truly is no place
like home.
Scripture tells us “that the wise man built his house upon the rock,and
when the storms came it withstood them.” Words in red spoken by Jesus. Words
we believe, until we get in a crisis, and panic. Joe didn’t panic in a panic
situation, at least not too much. But in Paul’s writings he uses a Greek word
“oikodomen,” which takes two words, house and build and ties them together. The
idea is to build a house on a solid foundation, and in the context to tell us we
have a solid foundation in Jesus. We sing songs about that wise man building
his house, but do we live it? We are new creatures in Christ, not rebuilt or
renovated, totally new, in fact the old man has passed away. RIP. But yet when
trouble strikes, we worry, fret, forget, and turn from God trying to figure it
out ourselves. And then the real problems begin. We have to come to grips with
our new identity in Christ, and although we may not understand the spiritual
transformation, we are now children of a living, loving God. We have a new
identity in Christ. But too many times we fall back on old feelings and old
ways, and end up like Joe’s house was, condemned and worrying. Yet there is no
condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, we are forgiven. Can we act
that way?
When we rely on our emotions we are like a ship tossed on the waves, boing
where it takes us. We become emotional retards, and useless to all including
ourselves. But when we seek the spirit in all things, we can have insight,
wisdom, and know God has everything under control. We can have joy, which
doesn’t mean the absence of suffering, but the presence of God, fruit of the
spirit. Of God. To strengthen and encourage us in the situation, for God has
everything under control. He knows the outcome, when it will end and how, and
will take us through it. The spirit will steady and strengthen you, anybody
need a little steadiness on the rough roads of life? Call on Jesus, and by his
spirit, you will be saved, eternally, right now, and you will have built your
house upon the rock, no matter who you were before. No matter the sins or how
dirty your deeds were. Jesus cleanses us from sin....and our past.
Every time I see On Any Sunday, or read about motorcycling racing, or read
about how it was back then, I think of Joe and Calvin. Not Cal, but Calvin.
Friends and fellow bikers, who had motorcycles in common. And I got to know
Calvin through Joe. Do people get to know Jesus through you? Is your house
built upon the rock of Christ, or on shifting sands? We saw the results of
shifting sands at the Race of Gentlemen two weeks ago, cancelled when the high
tide washed out the track. Race cancelled, show over. The next day the sun was
out again....don’t miss Jesus by one day, build on him today, and when the
storms come, you still can ride. He will take you through the storms of life.
Don’t let the race of your life be called due to rain, seek Jesus now. He will
put himself in your place, so sometime you can put yourself in the place of
others. Love will do that, nothing else will. No emotion can substitute for
the joy Jesus brings to life. And how he brings scripture to life.
There are other Joe stories, about how he lost his leg and about the
Castrol sticker. It seems sometimes bad decisions make for better stories, only
in Christ will you find the happy ending you desire. You can only imagine the
stories Joseph, Jesus earthly father can tell, now those would be another Joe
story I would like to hear.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com