For me it started on a hot August afternoon when we lived in New Mexico.
It was too hot to ride, so Brett and I decided to cruise by the local Yamaha
store, a place we never went because we both rode Hondas, but where we had heard
they had a left over 1985 FJ1100 for sale. We went just to look, but they were
discounting it $1000, big bucks 35 years ago, and would give me what I had paid
for my CB650 Nighthawk when it was new. So back home to get Theresa’s blessing
on it, and with no money but good credit, an hour later I was the owner of a new
bike, another “just going to look afternoon....”
But with a three day weekend called Labor Day coming up, and taking
vacation the following week, it would give me nine days to go somewhere, and
with my grandparents only 2500 miles away, I could ride there in three days,
visit for three days, and three days back. Ending up riding over 6000 miles in
nine days, a very proper way to break in a new bike. Now I don’t remember much
of the ride there except it rained a lot, eastern Kansas was hillier than I
thought, and a night spent in Mt. Pleasant, Illinois in an old motor court where
the AC put out more noise than cool, and spending the evening with the other
travelers outside where it was cooler, with the tiki torches warding off most,
but not all the bugs. And I cannot remember the ride back, except for the last
day riding almost 700 miles from OK City to home. In the rain. All in the 55
mph world we were prisoners in at the time.....
I had called my Grandma and told her my plans, and we were to surprise my
Grandpa, just in case I didn’t come and disappoint him. But surprise him I did,
it was like he knew it was me when I rode by him sitting on the porch steps, as
if he already knew without being told. But for those three days, again I don’t
remember a lot of the details, it seems the best times go beyond words and
description, but it was a special time, a secret time that we never told anyone
else in my family about. A good time of eating, catching up with things you
forget when calling on the phone, and the last night, dressing for dinner, and
going out for a fancy meal, something none of us did very often, but the perfect
way to end the visit. What had started out as nine days with a new bike, no
money, and no place to go, ended up being one of the best last minute rides I
would ever take. And a memory I treasure to this day, something special about
it not being something special, and like the Harley shirt says, :if I have to
explain, you wouldn’t understand...”
Reading through the gospels we find Jesus spent much of his time on the
road. We learn, memorize, study, and try to remember all the things he did
mentioned in them, but we have no mention of the in between times, the times
just hanging with his disciples, over meals, while walking, or getting ready for
bed. We have no mention of the times around a campfire, of the personal one on
one times spent, times they took for granted, thinking he would always be with
them, not knowing what laid ahead, and a lot of times it was just another day
with Jesus. Even to the point of not knowing the last supper would be their
last supper with him, he had always been there, with little thought for
tomorrow. I ask people lately about their Christian experience, and find so
much is wrapped around the church, study, services, and doing the right things,
but never is mentioned any intimate one on one time with Jesus. If he is
mentioned at all. It seems because it is religion we have to be religious, but
Jesus wasn’t religious, he was against the things of religion that came between
us and God, and seeks personal time with us. Maybe consider your Christian
experience and how much Jesus is involved in it, it may surprise you. And
disappoint. For me it was one afternoon, home alone and quiet, and I shared a
ride I had taken with Jesus, he loved to hear of my ride, to be included among
those I would tell about it. He was one of the guys, a friend, but still God
with no religious overtones included, two friends talking. I wonder how many
times the disciples looking back told stories of the conversations they had, the
things they did with him, the relationship they had with him outside of
scripture. I wonder if we do the same.....
In the heat of the moment we never see the history that is being made,
actions that seem normal but will be remembered fondly later on. But it is the
precious times we spend with Jesus, the times that go beyond words, the ones we
cannot share with others because they wouldn’t get it that make it all
personal. The proof written on our hearts of the reality of him and is
promises, testimonies to be shared only if and when the right time arrives, but
times without words, spiritual times with our Lord and Savior.
Born again or bored again, too many Christians never experience all that
Jesus has to offer. Consider your Christian experience today, is it all about
Jesus or all about religion? The relationship with God doesn’t end when leaving
church, in the spirit it is only beginning. You may know all the right
scriptures, but how well do you know the man who said them? Who wrote them?
Who reveals them to you? If you are afraid to let Jesus make it personal, you
are normal, acting naturally, so go beyond the supernatural, and trust him. Let
the joy of him flow through you. Let all the no’s of life turn into one big
know, that of knowing him personally. He never left you nor forsakes you, so no
appointment needed. When minutes turn to hours, and hours turn to minutes, you
find the time is not as important as the one who created it.
The look on my Grandpa’s face made the whole trip worthwhile, the joy my
visit brought him, a trip that I thought was all about me, was really all about
Jesus, giving of myself, and seeing my Grandparents blessed. The fact God used
a motorcycle to do it......well we all need more rides like that. It all
started out just looking, and look what it turned into. Jesus and motorcycles,
it just don’t get any better. And like the old James Taylor song reminds me,
“with ten miles behind me and ten thousand more to go...”
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.bkogspot.com