in search of the round yon virgin

Christmas was always a big deal at our house when I was growing up.  Lots of food and presents with my Grandparents coming down to spend the night.  We had just moved into our new house in suburbia, and the thing to do was have Santa come and visit.  Not quite six, but going on 16, when the bell rang and the door opened and Santa Claus himself was there, it was a big deal.  I went along with it although I had a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t really Santa, but Mr. Howarth our next door neighbor.  I had a few things going for me, one Mr. Howarth was tall and had two different colored eyes like this Santa, he smelled of asphalt, he owned a paving company next door, and I was always looking at the dump trucks and tractors, but the dead give away was his shoes, covered with tar.  But I went along with it, until he was gone, then telling my parents my suspicions.  They thought I was so smart and clever, but I didn’t push it too far, I didn’t want to take any chances not getting the presents that Christmas meant to me.  I may have wavered in my belief in Santa, but I would cling to the concept, just in case I was wrong about him.

It was popular in school to learn about Jesus and the real Christmas story.  We never got into the background, just what the songs said, born in a manger, to a virgin, whatever that was, wondered if anyone had ever seen a round young virgin, and all about the three wise men.  Later I would learn a manger was a feeding trough, swaddling clothes were really strips used in burials, and there weren’t three wise men, no number is mentioned.  But the story of Jesus being born stuck with me, and if it meant more toys, I was willing to hang with the concept...just in case.....

But in junior high after being out till 10 pm with friends on Christmas Eve, any doubt about Santa was confirmed with a note on the door.  Seems they all went to bed early, and left me a note, stating Santa had left the presents in the closet, would I please put them under the tree.  Which also confirmed my doubt in the chimney concept, as we had no fireplace, so no chimney for him to come down.  Most likely as always Grandma and Grandpa were the Clauses, but being a Santa’s helper wasn’t so bad, after all it meant presents, so I once again clung to the concept.  Just in case....the closet was handy for him.

But it was after becoming a Christian that Christmas became real to me.  My first Christmas after being saved and moving to Albuquerque with John.  And the four of us going to California for Christmas, until Mr. Hansch died  unexpectedly, and the trip was cancelled.  The others were able to get flights at the last minute, I couldn’t, so spent my first real Christmas alone, just me and Jesus.  No tree, no presents, just a silent night and the same the next day.  But it was special to me, as the concept of Jesus being real became more real.  I saw past the toys and saw the gift God gave that day.  I never told my family as they would have worried, I will admit to missing Christmas morning and the excitement, but it was like having been one of the wise men that night.  Christmas became personal, and all doubts about him became true to me.  A dinner at Burger King on Christmas Day should have been a bummer, but I was filled with joy.  The concept of Jesus being the reason for Christmas had become real, and instead of wanting to receive gifts, I wanted to give.  Just as God did, setting the precedent of being a cheerful giver, and how it is more blessed to give than receive.  Only Jesus can do that for you...no matter how old a kid you are.

Now there are many stories, tales, legends, and philosophies about where did Santa Claus originate.  I like the one I read recently, about a man named Nick, who when he heard a family didn’t have food or the things they needed, he threw a bag of gold coins into their window one night and ran off.  Later when the town discovered it was him, the legend was born.  It wasn’t until 1934 that Santa had no personality, it was Coca Cola in an ad that gave us the Santa we know today.  Who would have thought a soft drink would be involved as a major part of who he is?  So today we give gifts at Christmas, and to many throughout the year, you see Christmas comes but once a year, Jesus Christ is in our lives daily.  Our giving reflects how God gave his only son, and we do it in love.  Yes we still have the tree, we tell the young ones about Santa, but we also tell them about Jesus.  You see Jesus is the real reason for the season.  Imagine that he never came into the world, and we would have no Christmas, no day of Christ.  Maybe when we look at it that way, it can mean more than shopping, and buying things for those we don’t like but want to impress, with money we don’t have.  Today wise men still seek him, I still haven’t found what out what a round yon virgin is, but I still cling to the concept of giving gifts.  Just in case....And if you really want to make me a believer, I’ll leave the window open on Christmas Eve.  Just in case that bag of gold is on your shopping list....

For maybe the Grinch was right, it isn’t about toys from the store, for Christmas is really much more.  At least to me.....Merry Christmas to all!  I rest my case.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the Thursday I have to go back to work on Monday and ruin the last few days of my vacation blues

I blame Gerald.  He once told me the a secret about vacations I wish he hadn’t.   He told me that while on vacation, the Thursday before you come home is when you check out, and begin to come home a few days early.  All the worries you left behind become real, and the last four days of your trip become a preparation to be home.  A thought that has stuck with me in over 40 years of touring, no matter how long, how far or how many time zones crossed, that last Thursday on the road everything winds down and the trip is cut short.  It is when you find you over spent and under planned, how when you mentally checked out the week before leaving those things are waiting for you, and the last four days your mind is not on vacation mode.  A battle I have fought and both won and lost, the time either passes quicker as you know Monday back to work is coming, or slows to a crawl, as you don’t go or do things as planned in anticipation of being back home.  If only you could look forward to being back home as you did to starting on the ride.....

So state of mind has a lot to do with how you see your vacation.  Maybe a lesson in patience we all need, I know I did, learning the hard way.  After being in cardiac critical care for 20 days, I was excited to leave and go to rehab.  My night nurse Neil told me emotionally how to handle it, open heart surgery and new aorta and all.  All the attention I was used to getting, how I had been watched 24/7, would now come to end, and I would be just another patient.  I was ready, or thought I was, impatient to leave, but when the time came....I wish I could have stayed.  Things are different in rehab, I was the youngest at age 58, and the lack of personal care fell short as far as I was concerned.  If not for a night nurse Tomoko, I may have gone crazy, and along with the head of nutrition who rode, they fussed over me.  With the other real memory is of an old woman watching MTV every morning at six, then going back to her room.  After eight days in a coma, it is safe to say my sleeping habits were needing adjustment, not sure about hers.  But being blessed by an ever present Jesus, I went home early, to spend the rest of the 54 days in Albuquerque in a friend’s house.  With the promise of my infection treatments only lasting the balance of the six weeks.  No matter how well I was doing, that six week time frame was necessary, no matter how we begged or Theresa administered them.  To me it was like Thursday in reverse, would I ever leave Albuquerque?  I wondered if I would ever leave CCC, and when the big day came, home I went, riding in the back of a rented Camry, with a new heart, and a new outlook on life.  My traveling would change after that, and Thursdays would never be the same, I now enjoy everyday, looking forward to going and to coming back home.  I almost didn’t make it back....at least to my earthly home.  How could Gerald, a doctor himself, be some right and so wrong at the same time?

Seems we are so overwhelmed with time, or lack of it, we forget we are eternally in God’s presence.  God does not live moment to moment as we do, he is outside of time, as eternity has no beginning and has no end.  A constant right now if you will, and as fragile as the  moment may seem to us, he has it all under control.  Maybe the most important part of my life with Jesus that changed was in my prayers, as Theresa was given Isaiah 65:24, I paraphrase, “before you ask, God knows and has it all in motion.”  He doesn’t stop to wait from us, or listen to our advice, he has it all under control.  He is enthroned forever, no other God to replace him or take his place.  Yet we wander from him in times of need, even telling him how to fix the situation, when if only we had listened we would have the answer in place, along with the solution in progress.  Maybe a side of being a work in progress we never consider.  I read once where Jesus never hurried, and was never late.  I wish I could say the same....

But I have learned the most important part of prayer is listening to his answer, to letting him be God, and take care of me.  He never told us “to him who has a mouth let him speak,” but did say “to he who has an ear let him hear.”  Two ears, one mouth, can hearing be twice as important?  Or do we need two ears because we don’t listen?  Also hearing is the last sense to leave us before death.  Any comments on advice before leaving earth that are better than the words of Jesus?  So despite my impatience to get along and out, to start life over again, to finally get home, God had it all under control.  So that he would get the credit.  When you pray, do you listen, and when he answers do you give him all the credit?  He who never leaves us to fend for ourselves, is ever present, and visible via our actions and attitudes when we walk in his spirit.  God loves to hear from you, can you say the same?  If not, why waste your time in praying if you don’t want an answer?  His answer....

And yet so many well meaning people cross your path, telling you “they understand what you are going through.”  To which I began to reply, “really, explain it to me, I don’t.”  Did you ever wake up after being life flighted and have a new aorta after it disintegrated  during surgery?  If so, I would love to hear from you.  Fortunately I heard from God.....So do you ever get the Thursday I have to go back to work on Monday and ruin my last few days of vacation blues?  Maybe one last perspective from a man going home is needed.

In he Garden on Thursday Jesus knew what lay ahead, he knew his time on earth was coming to an end, and by Monday would be back home.  But first Good Friday, six hours of hell on the cross, yet his thoughts were of us, praying for us in his misery, talking to and listening to his father.  Sunday he would be home, establishing a new Sabbath, where we could all rest in him until called home to heaven.  But on Monday he was back, at the right hand of his father, seeing over the universe, and over us.  He too knows of a day when he will return for us, he just doesn’t know the time or date.  But yet he is patient that none should perish and miss him.  Is he included in your future plans?  Is he part of your future, or more importantly your right now?

Bowie once sang “time might change me, but I can’t change time.”  But you can change your perspective when giving it all to Jesus.  And you don’t have to wait till Thursday or be on vacation, he is listening right now.  Question is, are you listening right now?  The spirit is calling, to give you peace, rest, comfort, wisdom, and understanding.  At times we never thought we would leave Albuquerque for home, but he was patient.  Enjoy today, we may not have a tomorrow.   I know, so enjoy today and everyday in God’s presence.  Jesus his present to you, forever.  Where the spirit of the Lord is there is liberty.  That is where I want to be.  And if you don’t understand, let him explain.....just may change your life, here and forever.  To him who has an ear never sounded so good....

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

brand loyalty

Just a few years before I started riding British bikes ruled the world.  The bikes of junior high, the ones we read about in our mags hidden behind text books, would soon be gone by the time I could ride legally on the street.  The Bonneville I lusted after, the Trident, and others had gone from showroom window visibility to back row status.  The new paint jobs on the Hondas, the two stroke ring a ding ding  of the Mach III, and the Yamahas proudly displayed by the new BMW’s were what the magazines were now promoting.  Triumph dealers now added Kawasaki, Honda stores were everywhere, and Suzuki’s were add ons.  Only the most staunch Matchless or BSA dealer hung on, Harley was still Harley only, and drip pans under bikes in showrooms were silently disappearing.  Engineered bikes from the thirties were being passed over, it was the seventies, and we all wanted to go faster, look cooler, and be introduced to a world of quality that never before existed.  We were about to be spoiled rotten, overwhelmed with choices, and forgetting to mourn the passing of the Brits.  Rotting from within, Honda had us, Kawasaki was gaining, Yamaha growing, and Suzuki just a four stroke away from becoming a household word.  These bikes weren’t new and improved, they were totally new, except for a few copying some Brit models, we learned of disc brakes, five speed trannys, electric starting, and reliability.  Push a button after pushing down the choke lever, and off you rode.  Saving many a riding boot from the tickling of the carbs until the gas flowed out, kicking it through to free the clutch, then jumping on the kick starter and hoping it would roar into life, while the rest of us rode away.  New was in, old was out, twins were out, fours were in, a virtual motorcycle revolution was taking place, and I was there.  First on my 1972 CB350 Honda, with 8” bars and high sissy bar with pad.  And cars and bikes would never be the same.....

And either would I.  Motorcycling became the most important part of my life, forsaking girl friends, bikes were still cheaper if not more reliable, living for weekends to head out and ride, and seeking more power, no one wanted to be the last guy leaving from the light.  Brands mattered, but riding mattered more, as Hondas rode with Kawasaki’s, BMW’s with Suzuki’s, and we all worshipped at the brand of our choice.  But secretly wondered what the other bike felt like, and on rare occasions when we found swapped bikes, were impressed with our friend’s choices, but more impressed and glad we rode what we rode.  Variations on a two wheeled theme, with performance the way to leading the pack, while others just wanted to be part of the pack.  Fast, faster, and fastest.....and it was only beginning.  But for the old bikes from ten years ago, the end was near, and no one seemed to notice, or even care.  Triumph stores now sold Kawasaki’s, BMW stores sold Yamaha, Honda were stand alone, and the Norton store sold lawn mowers, along with K81’s, fortunately some things Brit never died.  The era of push button, disc braked, oil tight and reliable riding was upon us....

When I bought my 1978 GS1000 Suzuki a few years back, it felt old.  You had to choke it, let it warm up, the brake pull was difficult, and I had to plan ahead to stop.  In 1978 it was modern, now it was old, or felt old.  On my 2018 Street Triple R, I just pull in the clutch, push the starter and ride off...computers do it all.  A better bike all around, but will it provide the same memories my old Suzuki did?  What do I do with the Friday night sessions tuning my rides like we used to do?  Tires last longer, cost more, no more tune ups, no leaking of oil, no more headers to swap out, race tires to change, or low bars to replace.  All done from the factory....I wonder, and go back so often to the good old days of my early riding.  I wonder, have all the improvements really improved riding....the same thing the old ones before me must have asked.  Just one ride should answer that.....

But some things go beyond wisdom and understanding.  Choice of what you ride, if you ride, where you ride, and how you ride all come into play.  Our rides reflect us more than we let on.  But we should never participate in religion the same way.  While some are brought in as a tradition, the family always worshipped that way, some are brought in socially, via great youth groups or special events.  Some like a teaching pastor, some with a friend, and some are just along for the ride.  If Baskin Robbins has only 31 flavors, religion could never get along with so few.  Countless Lutheran synods, Baptist alternatives, Pentecostal, fundamental, Catholic, cults with Jesus’ name in them, and some who deny him altogether, yet claim to be chosen.  But only in Jesus Christ do we have the ability to choose, to say yes or no, and to choose how we worship.  I was saved during the Jesus movement of the seventies, we sought the truth over religion,and many new churches sprung up.  Bible studies filled homes at night, and it was out with mainline denominations, in with Jesus.  Praying became popular, we talked about Jesus in public, and we formed a tight brotherhood of believers.  A golden age to those of us who were in it, but with an eye out to the future, so we would not become the religious institutions of the past.  But for some it wasn’t enough just being a Christian, these anti-religious believers grew into an elite if not hateful crowd, claiming their way was better, but leaving Jesus behind.  Like minded men were the choice,and either agree or move on.  And many of us did....with many of us moving up, and closer to Jesus.  When the church began to advertise, to go after new members from other bodies, when church attendance was the criteria for success, we left.  But so did Jesus, and sometimes he was never missed. 

God has given us the freedom to choose, but like riding, we all choose differently.  For personal reasons, but  how many of us chose Jesus because he made it personal?  So we could escape religion, so we could find the freedom in Christ we found in our riding?  Some of us found the brotherhood of bikers lacking in the church, and decided to spend our time riding in prayer rather than in church wishing we were riding.  Only in Christ do we find the freedom he speaks of, to allow us to choose, and let him be God.  But can we remember we all have the same Jesus, or are supposed to?  That it is his death and resurrection that make him unique and that we should celebrate?  Is Jesus a daily routine or a miserable hour on Sunday?  Our lives say more about him than we wish others knew about us.  Have we become so righteous we have become religious?  God knows...do we?

Paul warned the Corinthian church to stop it wrong ways, turn and repent, not turn or die.  He knew of the divisions among the body, and found no place for it.  Either do I, we need to get back to the basics of Jesus, remember the apostles creed, and maybe a dose of Acts 2:42 injected into churches wouldn’t hurt.  Churches seem hell bent on going the Brit bike route, don’t let your epitaph be “we never did it this way before.”  Jesus never changes, we do.  He never left, we did.  If only choosing what we want about God was as easy as choosing a bike to ride.  Are you loyal to Jesus or his brand?  Never has being a Christian been so exciting, or so important.....your new “in the beginning” is calling.  Only in Christ will you have the wisdom to tell the difference.  Understand?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com