At over $8500 at the time, they were in my stratosphere of car buying
ability. Driving my 1972 MG Migdet, really a Midget, but whoever painted the
car put the letters back incorrectly, sports cars were it for me, but on my
British budget, “why make a car payment when you can support a mechanic each
month with the money,” I was looking. Not to buy, just to look, and take a free
test drive. Now Z cars, 240 Z’s were no stranger to me, and I have wanted one
since Gary Ferrao bought one and let me drive it once down the street. Meanie.
But school, girls, motorcycles, moving west, and life in general kept
interfering. But one sunny afternoon, the kind where nothing happens because of
the heat, I decided to kill some time by taking test rides. Camaro first, MGB,
passed on the Mustang II, and even stopped by to see Yo Yo and drive an Alfa
GTV, but he was gone. So stopping by the Datsun dealer, which was very quiet
this afternoon, a young girl ready to impress me and make a sale approached me,
asking me if I wanted a demo ride even before I asked. And the race, at least to
me was on...
Older than me, aren’t all women at 23, she was the kind who tried to boost
my sales decision, “men are such better drivers, maybe you can drive this car, I
know I couldn’t,” and the snowball started running down hill faster and faster.
Running down the 40 faster than the double nickel, 55, she kept touching my arm,
which I don’t like, kept throwing out faux praise, and when it was time to get
off at Lomas, a right hand exit with a 15 mph curve, which I had done many times
on two wheels, a motorcycle, hit it at 40, slid it sideways, and amid tire
smoke, and the screech of tires, brought it to a stop just before the stop
line. Leaving my partner in the driver seat shaken and silent. She looked at
me incredulously, and murmured, “I think I wet my pants...” and back we went to
the dealership. Cautiously. Without a word, she got out, and walked back to
the showroom, with a dark blue, wet area on her maxi-skirt where she had lost
it. She never looked back, I left the keys in the Z and left. Maybe men are
such better drivers as she claimed, but women can be lousy passengers, as she
proved. And I still have never owned a Z car.
Joy is not the absence of suffering but the presence of God. Paul was
learning that while being held by Felix. His past disobedience had gotten him
thrown in jail and beaten, but he repented after Jesus appeared to him, and
promised him more when he go to Rome. But here we see Felix, after receiving a
letter exonerating Paul, keeping him in jail, loosely guarded, but still
imprisoned. Felix who knew some of the things of God, wanted to hear more, and
kept Paul at hand to hear him speak. He had every legal right to free him, but
wants to hear more. And Paul answered. He was to be detained over five years
in multiple places, yet the gospel spread due to his imprisonment. Prison is
never comfortable, no matter the security level, and rights or no rights, he was
curtailed. It can best be described as heartache and agony, nothing no safe
Christian would sign up for, but Felix knew Paul, and Paul knew Jesus, and that
made all the difference. Today I have many Christian brothers and sisters
imprisoned, who are being used as a shining light to proclaim the gospel of
Jesus Christ to the lost and suffering. Men and women are being saved by these
imprisoned ambassadors of Christ, the spirit guiding them when they cannot do it
themselves, and have little or no chance for release. I look at them as I do at
Paul, I couldn’t do it, or rather I wouldn’t do it, but God knows, and they are
being effective messengers of the gospel. I only hope that like Paul did, they
see the love of Jesus before them, and find the same joy we do on the outside
with fewer restraints. Maybe it is to them we should tip our hats, as taking
the light into the darkest of areas, even if it means being detained without
cause as Paul was. God’s plan is at work in them today, may God bless them all
mightily. God’s message works powerfully through people who have truly
repented, and have him to thank. Like them, Paul became all things to all men,
from teacher, to tent maker, to religious leader, to prisoner. I wonder what
job on his resume he looked back at with the most affection?
I hoped I taught that woman a lesson that day, my thought was before taking
off, “I’ll show her a thing or two,” not all lessons are easy, the best ones
often the hardest. She never looked back, I wonder if she ever came back to
work, she was obviously better suited to another profession. But in humility, I
too had learned a lesson, shopping where I had no right to be, and wasting
someone else’s time. Felix didn’t waste Paul’s time, don’t waste yours with
foolish games. Test drives are exactly that, I passed, but still couldn’t
afford the purchase price, so walked. Skill had no importance when it came time
to pay. The gospel is free, so don’t bother bringing your wallet. Jesus paid
the price. But Felix also reminds us the law doesn’t forget, but Jesus does.
Some 40 years later I hope that woman forgives me, and every time I take a test
drive I think of her. And I can still see her walking away...embarrassed. Make
no claims about God you cannot back up, your audience may not be a Felix. Show
love, forgive, and don’t be embarrassed by what you drive. The path of
disobedience we set off on has dire consequences, only in Jesus will we be
forgiven. And a true sports car must have the top go down. The French have a
saying, “there are two things you never criticize about a man, his love making
and his driving, and not necessarily in that order.” Of course you knew that
already.....for some it takes a test drive to prove it.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com