the most fun you can have with your clothes on

My t-shirt with the Rocket III on it says "size matters." And if you want to have the largest production motorcycle, then this Triumph is the way to go. At 2300 cc,or 125 cubic inches, it is definitely the way to go-size wise. But the rest of us live/ride in a world where fun dictates how, where, when, and what we ride. And of course how. And for anyone who rides, they will tell you that it is the fun factor, along with a certain amount of cool found no where else, is why we ride. Harley even prints shirts stating "if I have to explain, you wouldn't understand." True-for explaining fun, freedom, and the joy of riding is wasting words, when you could be twisting a throttle. And whether it is going for the hole shot, cow trailing with your friends, a Saturday morning cruise, or riding into the next state by dinner time, motorcycling provides the ultimate escape route. For some-there's therapy, for the rest of us, we ride.

For some of us it started with a mini-bike, with a Tecumseh or Briggs and Stratton lawnmower motor attached. But as the market grew, the manufacturers caught on, and started making mini motorcycles-a reduced version, just like dad's only their size. And one of the best father/ son relationship tools ever invented, brought many a family together. And still does today. At the Elsinore Grand Prix this last weekend, we were reminded of this, as the 50cc mini class went off-kids who might not be able to balance a bike, were out racing with others, going over hills, and racing like the big guys. A true family event, as dad was the mechanic and coach-mom took care of food and the gear, and the other brothers and sisters helped out while waiting for their race to start. A fun drug free day for all-the drug of choice having two wheels. Not wondering who your kid was hanging out with, but knowing who, what, where, and why. Not a guarantee they will not go out and try things on their own, but a great deterrent-and fun!

I am fortunate my whole family rides. Christopher's first ride was a 50cc Y-Zinger ATV. He used to do donuts on it at five years old, and raced up and down our alley. Great for learning hand/eye coordination, it turned into a life long love of riding, as for many years his only form of transportation was a motorcycle. And his Street Triple is sitting here today. I enjoy the rides with him, and we can stop and visit and comment on things seen on the ride-things you would never talk about in a car with the A/C on and the radio blasting. Theresa rides, too. Has her own Bonneville, and has ridden over 40,000 miles in five years. No trailer queen here, she rides to San Francisco, and has no problem doing 85mph. And when we take trips together, she leads-until the turns, then we meet at the end. Boys wanna have fun too, but she can also show where she has scraped her pegs. And it is always fun when she gets to talk with other women who wished their husbands would ride with them-or let them get their own. And like the reporter in Oklahoma City who interviewed me on Torches-she said the marriage counselor advised her to ride with her husband, and their marriage would be better. "And it is!" she gushed. And so is mine/ours!

My other son Andrew is the dirt rider, tells me the street is dangerous. So why is he the one who calls me from the hospital after crashing in the dirt? Last weekend I got to see him race at Elsinore, finished 14 of 45 teams, his team member probably cost him a few spots. But more than the competition, it was fun. Riding with your friends, the sounds of the four strokes, and the smell of racing castor. And you see husbands/wives, girlfriend/boyfriend, fathers and sons all together. No age barrier here-motorcycles are fun at any age. And just like the Honda ad says, " I wanna ride, I wanna ride..." And so we do.

One of the first institutions God created was the family. And despite the evil one's attempts to redefine and destroy families today, God still honors families who pray together. Who fellowship together, and who seek Him first. And even though it is common for motorcycles to race on Sunday, many Christian organizations have sprung up to provide support at races. They do chapel services, cruise the pits, pray for the racers, and are an intricate part of racing. For what racer waiting for the flag to drop doesn't pray to someone. Or something. But just like the mom or dad supporting their kids, those who minister at race tracks do it quietly and behind the scenes. Success not being measured on who gets saved, but just by being there. Someone who rides, and talks the language-just without the %^&$#&* included. And many ministries and organizations have sprung up to minister to anyone from 1%er outlaws to Grand Prix racers and all in between. For we all have in common the love of riding, it's just those of us who have Jesus see it from an eternal perspective. And riding since I have been saved has only gotten better.

Watching the sun rise at Daytona, or watching it set at Willow, you see the glory of God. Hanging on in a berm with 65hp of dirt bike between you and the dirt, you feel the awesome power of God. Sweating in 110 degrees, or shivering when it freezes, you see a side of God many never see. The smells, sights, sounds, and tastes are all better on a bike-and the best with God along. Looking for a family function, that's fun. Ride. And watch as you can sit and talk to God with your kids-and they'll listen. Point out the wonders of him, and they will have proof of His existance. And watch as they become part of a brotherhood, and see how the family of God can also be part of a motorcycling family. True brotherhood begins with Jesus, it doesn't end there. Families who pray together stay together. And those who ride together stay together, also.

And yes, we understand it can be dangerous. It is a sad but true part of riding But God knows our days are numbered, so why not enjoy them-get the most from life. Jesus and riding! It doesn't get any better!

Until heaven....but you gotta have Jesus to get there. Make sure the ride of your life has a name-one above all names-Jesus! Kawasaki may let the good times roll, and you can meet the nicest people on a Honda. But only Jesus can make your ride through life the ride of your life. Twist a throttle with Him today-on the street or in the dirt-if I have to explain, you wouldn't understand. For just a little faith, like a little throttle, gets your ride going.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

maybe you still meet the nicest people on a Honda

Getting off the freeway, and cruising old down towns has its benefits. For me, last week I found Honda-Yamaha of Redlands. A big blue Yamaha sign caught my attention on an old building, so navigating one way streets and alleys, I found their parking lot. Located in an old packing house for the last ten years, it was originally built in the 1920's for lemons and oranges. Old brick walls, and hardwood floors, it is old California, the style people pay big bucks for to be duplicated using new bricks and wood-trying to make it look old.

Of course being on a Bonneville caught their attention, and after walking around inside, nice open layout without being called dude, I was about to leave when I got stopped by a guy more my age than young. He had seen the Bonneville, and asked how long I had been riding. "Today?" I answered, and looking at the miles on my face could tell I had been around the block, and maybe the country a few times. "Follow me," he said, so I did. It was then he ushered me into the basement, for a treasure trove of old bikes. Something not everyone has access to. Walking past the service department, we stopped to introduce me to the service manager, and then deep into the back of the basement-in the front of the building. Supported by old hewn beams, this low ceilinged cellar held about 25 old motorcycles. Some historic, some not, but an accumulation of bikes-Hondas and Yamahas the owner had collected over the past 40 years of dealership ownership. His memories, not some collector list, stuff that was important to him, which was more interesting than some collections I have seen.

A KO CB 750, with the sandcast engine. Just needed some air in the tires to ride it. An 81 six cylinder Honda CBX, the touring edition, that never sold. My friend Ash Marshall some 20 years ago tried to buy one from Honda-they never sold, and rather than scrap them, Honda offered them to trade schools. Which passed on them-so they went to the crusher anyway. Some nonsense with federal law prohibited them from being sold after that, so dozens of them got crushed, despite Ash's plea to save them. He offered to buy the whole lot. And here sat one-obviously never sold, and thankfully never crushed. Another bike desired by me at the time, but way out of my budget. Still.

A 1976 Special Edition Gold Wing sat next to it. And in random order, and in no special order, were a 1973 YZ 250-last year of the dual rear shocks, a 1973 Elsinore, again the first year, and other bikes I saw, but never made an impact on me. But what did, was a perfect 1972 CL350, Honda's scrambler model. The one that my Triumph Scrambler looks more like than the old TR 6 it is copied after. The blue and white paint perfect, and remove the sissy bar-which we all had at the time, and I wanted to take it home with me-or at least for a 40 year memory ride. My first new bike was a 1972 CB 350, the super sport model with low pipes. The scrambler could do dirt roads with it trials style tires and high pipes-most of NJ was and is still paved to this day, making my CB purchase more logical-at least at the time. Remember, when trying to talk your parents into getting you a motorcycle they hated, any argument is fair game. Even a near perfect CL77, just like the one BH had, the first bike I rode on the street, except this one didn't have the hand painted by brush tank, and self lubricating engine. 70mph with two SPFHS seniors riding it-if only we had known. Maybe the best $50 ever spent-or invested.

Now these bikes weren't restored, and definitely not over restored. Just maintained, as original. And for that 30+ minutes in the cellar, this man's memory album of live motorcycles took me back to a simpler, less complicated, but more fun and exciting time of riding.

And upon leaving, Scott showed me some others upstairs I had neglected to notice, and even offered me to come back, as the owner has more in his garage at home, and swaps them occasionally. Way cool, and he didn't even try, or offer to sell me a bike. But from him I would, he rides. And we shared a common love of motorcycles. Off the freeways, and away from the superstores, with high overhead, and impersonal service. It was all worth one last walk by the old Honda 50, with the the fuel tank kit. Honda sold a kit for their 50cc scooters, which made it look like a motorcycle, rather than the step thru scooter. And the first bike I learned to fall off of was just like it, my friend Ricky Schill's. And on the way home, I remembered how fast 30mph felt in 1968, and learning to shift and how the first ride is always the most special. Blood, sweat, gears, and all mud, too. If they could see in my full face Arai, they would have wondered what is that old sucker smiling about? No one should wear a smile like that while riding. And there would have been no words to describe it. It is that precious.

Scott reminded me of something that afternoon. He earned my respect, and we shared a common bond. Something forgotten sometimes when sharing Jesus. We need to earn the right to share Him in words, the actions ought to be natural. Get to know the person, and see the need. God will always provide the words. And even if strangers, a bond of Jesus is stronger than even one of bikers-which is pretty strong. Respect, that's it. Looking for long term, rather than just trying to impress or win an argument. Sharing something eternally based, to someone who is temporal-and we don't know for how long. And just like the bikes in the basement, we could talk a language that both of us understood.

I find that trusting God to give me words works best. Christians can use words that the non saved aren't comfortable with. Saved for one. Baptism, repentance, the holy spirit, salvation, and born again-terms that the unsaved don't use-and don't understand the meaning of. Through listening, the words will be made clear by God, and your show of respect.

Scott let me look at the bikes first. It wasn't a tour, where he was the tour guide. We talked, and I asked questions, and he answered. A conversation, not preaching. And two guys, who had nothing else in common except a two wheeled heritage, left friends. And we will meet again.

Show love-and sometimes remember you are just planting seeds. Someone else will water it, but that God changes the heart-you can't. So get off the main road, and try out downtown. Take some time to visit , and stop and chat. And enjoy the day, as the Jesus in you comes out better than any rehearsal, and will win souls when you let God use you.

You never know who is watching, or what is in their basement. How long you been serving God? Today?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

three blind mice-you shall have no other God's before me

The following stories are true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent, and me! They are based on actual events. This is the story of these "three blind mice."

Mouse number one lives between the freeway and me-we must have passed his house thousands of times in the past eight years. He has all the toys-and they can and have been seen from his driveway. His first toy-a huge fishing boat, takes up the whole area reserved for a motor home-so you can imagine its size. Except we have never seen the space empty. If he uses it, it must be under cover of dark, or sneaks it out when we are out of town. He also has the latest BMW motorcycle, the latest off road truck, lifted, etc, and the only time I see him is when he waves to us on our bikes when we pass. I think I might have seen him once in his cul de sac on his BMW, but they all look grey and the same to me. He seems to be a nice man, but if I had to guess on his religion, I would base it on a false prosperity lie. He who dies with the most toys wins. Which they don't, the toys stay, and things on earth provide no guarantee for heaven after. But his FICA score and banker approve, so in the eyes of the world he is more than OK, he is successful.

Mouse number two is a retired businessman. He has had positions with titles, and always made better than average money. But his wife, who looks to support him, is really a liability. His earnings and any position are really about her, she thinks, and uses them for a political base. A facade of caring for others, as long as it benefits her. A veneer so tough it must be medicated just to function. Common in their peer group. Doing things others wouldn't even accept a thanks for, doing the right thing, she holds any gifts over the receivers head, reminding them they owe her. And she is miserable, as her husband works a lot of overtime. The old saying, if you don't get love at home, you get it at the office is true. He doesn't want to come home-she is there. But for appearance, and professional, and fiscal reason, stays married. They both play games with each other, and as long as the checks clear, they will stay together. Or more precisely-she will stay. They live the belief that they are happy, this is what happiness is, and since he is successful in business, he is successful at home. A false religion, based on a warped and twisting of scripture. Don't ever cross them, or expose them-the real them is hiding just waiting to devour you. Feel good theology is not based on love, just the love of-money.

Mouse number three has been associated with a national ministry for many years. Whenever he talks about God, he means the ministry. He recently married, and his new wife didn't realize he has a mistress-the ministry. On the honeymoon, they go camping with others in the ministry-but do find time to spend a few days alone. All activities revolve around the ministry, and although they travel a lot, it is all ministry related. Their time alone is shared doing ministry activities, they are truly never alone. His mistress is always there first. But they will stay married, for ministry reasons. And based upon what the ministry says to do, and their legalistic viewpoints, they will never be happy, but you will never know it. They will never admit it, as his mistress owns him, and in turn owns them. Not what she meant when she said " I do." She thought she was marrying a man.

God simply tells us to seek first the Kingdom of God, and its righteousness. Righteousness-being right with God. And since God also advises "to have no other Gods BEFORE me," other things have gotten between God and the three blind mice above. On judgment day, God will not recognize them. And in vain, they will complain, "but I told everyone what a great God you were by giving me toys. I did toy runs. I own my Bible, see how shiny it is. Like my cars. I was on social committees to help the poor. We even gave 10%, when we could. I gave up my old things when I bought new. We made almost every Christmas program. I gave my life to ministry, and so did my wife. We researched every problem, then gave advice. I even had a title, and was man of the year with them. I never gave them one minute of trouble. We did all things in the ministry's name-for you! We are even up to date on the building fund pledge. In this economy!"

And God will say-"be gone you evil ones, for you never knew me. When I was hungry, thirsty, alone, in jail, or sick-where were you? I was always a means to an end for you. You kept your Bible as shiny as your cars, and never used it. You did all things publicly for others to see, to bring you glory. You supported a ministry, not me. Did you ever spend time sharing and praying with your kids? Did you take in a stranger-no matter what the cost? Did you live in the spirit, or did you have to find assurance for each action by ministry by-laws or legalism? Did you love me first?"

"No all these other things were between us. And they will be eternally." Sadly, it doesn't have to be this way. Trust God. He will provide all your needs. He will fill your cup with mercy to overflowing. He will give you riches, in relationships and with him none other can. He will assure you heaven, and can be in Him, instead of a slave to a ministry. Repent-turn from the wrong, and turn to God.

It is not Him who flees, but the mice who scatter in His light. Are you running from, or to? Others can see what dirty rats you are, only God can forgive. Will you let Him, or is the veneer of life so tough that it has invaded your heart? Three blind mice-before a God who gives sight to the blind. "All I know, is I was blind, and now I can see!"

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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yes Jimmy, there is a super man, his name is Jesus

Different doesn't necessarily mean bad, sometimes different means different. And just because someone stands out, doesn't mean they are outstanding. Yet in history, both real and fictional, people who are different make for more exciting stories. And despite their exceptional talents, life can be harder for them than so called normal folks. Normal experiences for us can be unavailable to them.

Take Clark Kent for instance. With talents and abilities far beyond those of mortal men. And watch him in his teenage years. As all his friends are noticing the changes in girls, he has always been able to look through their clothes, and has a better understanding of why God clothed us-to protect us from how some look naked. No need to check out the girls, he already has, and is bored by now. Lust was no big deal to him, no one had to sneak him a girlie magazine, his version was live. Why even bother to wrap his birthday present-all that fun of guessing was gone too. Picture him wanting to play baseball, but not being able to. Who could catch his fastball, or his change-up for that matter? Stolen bases would be boring. No one would run against him in track, forget wrestling, judo, or karate. Golf-sorry Tiger. Who could return his serve in tennis? And he was good from any distance for a field goal, except who could tackle him. Just throw it up, he'll catch it. When others were enjoying team mates and competition, he couldn't even participate, due to his exceptional skills.

And when his older friends got into motorcycles-that would go the ton, he feigned interest. As much fun as motorcycles looked, and sounded, he could fly. No challenge, man made or other, outside of Kryptonite could stop him. Which left him with no challenges at all, except having to put up with the likes of Jimmy Olson, Lois, and Perry White. Criminals-boring.
Asteroids rushing towards earth, boring. Need an x-ray, see if your insurance covers him. All that ability, and no peer group worthy of him. So he hides behind Superman, in his suit, and has to have a dual identity. Just so others would play with him. Poor guy, can't even go to the beach without someone wanting to have him rescue them. Ten foot waves, he rides them, easy. And without a board! And even the great whites throw him back.

Maybe he could play guitar, but not even Dennis Agajanian or Clapton could keep up with his riffs. He definitely has a good beat, but is tough to dance to. And in all his superior talents, he would be bored, and eventually lose interest. Both to his loss, and ours. Do you think he ever wanted to be just normal ,like any other kid?

Clark Kent, a lonely man in a normal world.

Joe and Mary's kid was also unique. The perfect son, perfect student, perfect brother, and perfect friend-he could do no wrong. He would never cheat, when he said he didn't do it, you knew he didn't because he never lied, and imagine being his little brother-they always knew you were guilty. He never got sick, so he never missed a day at work. Didn't need health insurance. You never went hungry when you were with him. How's the fishing, just ask where they are biting today. And like Superman, he had talents far beyond those of mortal men. But where Clark would someday face mortality, he faced eternity. If he lost his hearing,would it still be better than ours? Superman could catch criminals, only Jesus could offer them forgiveness. And yet, despite his obvious superiority, both physical, intellectual, and spiritual-they called "crucify Him!" He was too different. For he was truly God and truly man. A combination that no comic strip would allow. And no comic strip could duplicate. God even calls him unique-His only, begotten son.

Your chance of ever meeting Superman are nil-he is make believe. But fun to believe in. You can know all about Superman, but never know him. Then there is Jesus. 2000 years after his crucifixion, He still lives. And you can know Him far beyond any TV or magazine article. You can not only know about him, but know Him! And he doesn't want fans, he will call you brother, and friend. A true hero by any standards.

But yet so many choose not to believe. And I wonder, we can even believe the stories we were told growing up, who say he isn't real, but that Santa and the Easter Bunny are-when we all know they aren't. Why do we easily go with a lie, when the truth is so readily available?

Break out of normalcy today, and trust someone immortal. A hero, but one who stands closer. The only one worthy of worship, who stands alone when it comes to Super Heroes, and their performances. And while others are legends-He is truth for right now.

He paid the price of fame in humility. Don't you think he deserves a chance in your heart?

Truth, justice, and the American way!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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endowed by our creator

Did you ever want to be something different than you turned out? When you were a kid, did you want to be a doctor, lawyer, cowboy, or fireman? Jobs that looked so glamorous, based on getting good parking spaces and making lots of money as a doctor or lawyer, riding the range as a cowboy, and meeting cowgirls, or steering the back of a hook and ladder? How many of us played super heroes such as Batman or Spiderman? But never realized the drawbacks to being a hero like them.

Consider Batman, and I prefer to remember him as the sixties version on TV, not the dark personality the movies of today have made him into. Consider the following, things we all take for granted. We all like attention, but this dude can't go anywhere without being identified. Try getting a romantic table for two, Bat daters. And if it is formal, does he wear a tux with tails over his cape? Does he always wear his gloves when eating? When he gets a Big Mac attack, does he get special sauce all over them? How does he eat pizza? And when walking her to the door, does he Bat kiss her goodnight, old chum? And if he tries to hug her at the drive in, remember the Batmobile has bucket seats, and "hey Batman, your belt is cutting into me." To whom much is given, but is required.

And what happens if our intrepid hero is conducting a safe driving seminar at Woodrow Roosevelt High, where Bruce Wayne's young ward, Dick Grayson, aka Robin is Student Council President. Does he even have a driver's license? Which means he had to have a birth certificate. Who were his parents, is he here legally? What is his address? Did he takes drivers ed, and does he have an insurance card in the Batmobile. "Sorry officer, I left my wallet in my other tights." Sorry Batman, $20 or 20 days. Just keeping the laws of Gotham City may be trying for such a hero.

And I have always wondered, what is a young ward? Is Dick being groomed to be like Ward Cleaver, Beaver's dad? And somewhere is some lady being groomed as a young June? Stay tuned...

And does he have a summer costume-it has to get hot in the summer in Gotham City, and the Batmobile has no a/c. Can you imagine the Caped Crusader in shorts, a wife beater, and sandals? Does he have a lightweight cape for those days with Santa Anas? Does he have a summer mask? Holy heat wave, Robin! Where does he fill the Batmobile? Can you see him at the self serve, using his debit card? And whose credit did they check, and does the card say Batman on it? Who are his credit references? Does he have a checking account with overdraft protection? Does he have a PIN number? Or even a social security number? And does he pay in? The Democrats want to know-so they can tax him. and when is the last time he prepared a tax return? Could this be the end of our caped crusaders? Are they duped like Al Capone for not paying taxes?

And finally as he gets older, and puts on weight, does he ever tire of running around like Peter Pan in tights? To the Batgym, Robin. Got a big date tonight. Maybe if you used the Batstairs instead of the Bat pole. And inquiring minds want to know, is it tough to go to the bathroom in your outfit? I notice there is no zipper. What if you get the urge after too many Batcolas, and...well, I think you get it. "Give me 20 minutes Boy Wonder, I've got to stop at the next rest room and relieve myself. Excuse me citizen, this is an emergency, can I go ahead of you?" "I've really got to have Alfred install zippers in these things." There are some things even a superhero can't control.

But don't blame Batman, these things aren't his fault. They are his creators fault, who had no insight as to the future, and little concern for day to day living. A man whose vision fell short, and whose design has many flaws. Probably created in his image of what a hero should be, but forgetting the details. But whose shortcomings were forgiven, if only because the Caped Crusader is so humble, but even more so because of the incredibly ignorant citizens of Gotham City. Please, don't get me started on Chief O'Hara. Would you let him even cross your kid across the street? But a true creator knows all these things, and when God created us, from the dust of the earth, He made us perfect. No need for heroes, but then we sinned, and all the laws, sacrifices, and kings and their men couldn't restore us. It took a real hero, one who is really super, and that is Jesus. Uniquely created like no other, He was both fully man, and fully God. And born of a virgin, and died and was resurrected. By His father, the perfect creator of the universe, even including the citizens of Gotham City. And He died so we can live-now that's super, My Hero!

And it gives us time to stop and be thankful of how we were created. Why five fingers, and not four or six? Isn't it good the hand came before the glove. Why only two arms? Why do we have only one mouth, but two ears? Note-to listen twice as much as you speak. But the important thing is, you were uniquely made in the image of a loving God, and given a heart, so you could make the choice of serving Him or not. And when we do, there is no need for heroes, as love covers a multitude of sin. God knew what he was doing then, and He still does today. Even Batman would agree with that.

Which makes me wonder? Where does he go to church? Does he attend a Bible study? If he is a true hero he does. Quick, to the Batcave Robin. We are almost late for church.

"Holy -------, Batman." And remember Robin, there is only one who was found worthy, and holy. Remember Him next time you blurt out an euphemism. "You're right Batman, can you forgive me?"

"And Jesus always will." And He does it all without wearing a cape. And we never got a chance to thank Him!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogpsot.com

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election day

DATELINE:Troy, Illinois, September, 2006. Minutes after Torches Across America Rally-a ride across America to honor those who died on 9-11, and those whose serve, and first responders.

The ceremony had just ended, the bagpipe player disappearing into the dark night, until you couldn't see him any longer, and the sounds of Amazing Grace disappeared into the distance. I had been part of the evening festivities, being the spokesman for us, and a German lady with a local TV station wanted to interview me. Amongst all the American flags, and underneath the 50 foot one hanging from two fire engine ladders, her opening line was, "what do you think of George Bush's mishandling of the war in Iraq?" Taken a bit off guard, I replied that this is apolitical, this is a rally for patriotism, not of politics. But she wasn't done. She kept probing, probably at the insistence of her editor, to get me to say something anti-American, and inflammatory. I kept my cool, but she finally asked the defining question-and got an inflammatory answer-just not one she was looking for, and one I'm sure didn't make the news the next day.

"With all the unrest in the world, aren't you afraid to die?"

"No," I explained. "I am a Christian man who gave his life to Jesus. And when I die I go to heaven, I am definitely not afraid to die. In fact-I look forward to it!" And that was the end of the interview. Although the camera man behind her gave me the alright motion, and the thumbs up. And she can never say she didn't hear the gospel.

Last night, while we were asleep, the final vote tallies of an election were finished up. And one group of people will rejoice, while the others mourn. And the truth is, although the parties in charge may change, nothing will change. You see, politics, and Christianity will always run opposite of each other. Christianity is all about Jesus, and politics is all about man. And until there is a change of heart, there will be no change of actions. And perhaps the most telling voter count, is those that didn't. Somewhere between 35-45%, depending on where you live. So before you go celebrating, remember almost half the country just doesn't care. While you regroup and mourn your loss, remember-half the country just doesn't care. They are sick of politics, and looking for the truth-something no politician on any level can offer. For anytime you compromise, you are compromising your values. Do not ever buy into the lie of disagreeing to agree-you both lose. And when you start compromising, to get your way, when do you stop?

Do you remember when the US of A was states of red, white, and blue? Now we have blue dog and red states. And from what I can see, all are really black and blue-beat up by each other, and rotting away from within.

If you really care about yourself, your fellow man, and your country-take heed of the following. It states, "If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray, I will hear their voice from heaven, and heal their land." 2Chronicles 7:14. Does anybody ask God anymore what He wants-His will? Or are we so self serving, either we are happy when we get our way, or mad at Him when we don't.

Election day is over until next year, but today you can still make a choice-while there is still time. You can turn to God, and face eternity knowing that it will be heavenly. Or you can stick to your politics, and face an evil and painful eternity in hell. Jesus is not driven by any party. He is God. Shouldn't that be enough to choose Him? You see, even going back one generation, it doesn't matter who was in charge, or what party. But in eternity it will. No politics in heaven-just love. Your faith won't save you, as the evangelists say, but only the one-Jesus, in which you place that faith. Faith alone is useless without Him.

Hope-we all have it, is yours in God, or man? Love-God is love. And loves you so much He sent His son Jesus to die for your sins.

Has anyone from any party given you an offer like that, that they will die for your sins? Can they guarantee heaven? Let God be true, and all men liars.

So once again, today, I choose Jesus. His grace and mercy far outweigh any entitlement program, and His kingdom will endure forever. You don't have to wait another four years, while murmuring to decide. Today is the day of salvation-vote with your heart. Jesus and patriotism go hand in hand. Do you love your country? If we have any chance of healing, they need to go heart in heart.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

three piece patches,-Father, son, and Holy Spirit

It is called prospecting, and to anyone whoever wanted to join a motorcycle club, they know exactly what it means. A probation of sorts, to prove to the club that you are worthy to wear the colors they represent. To be accepted by the members, for membership, sometimes only 75%, but usually 100%. And for that probationary period, you will be little better than a slave, and indebted to the one who nominated you for membership. And depending on the club, those commands can be disgusting and even lecherous. And even illegal, in an attempt to break you, and find how you respond. Will you defend the club? Will you give allegiance to it, even over your family if needed? In 1%er clubs will you do time or even murder for the club? And for that period of from six months to a year, they own you. And you ask yourself, is this really what I want? And when the answer is yes, you endure the humiliation, earning the full patch colors, and are no longer a prospect. You are a full member, with all the rights and respect of the older members. You are in-you made it!

Not all clubs are clubs. Some are MM instead of MC, motorcycle ministries instead of motorcycle clubs. And their rules and requirements to wear their colors may be more relaxed, but the colors still mean the same. It has been said that if it is not in your heart, don't wear it on you back. And among the tougher clubs, it can mean danger, and even your life. It is a commitment made, and honored, and respected. A relationship based on a long term involvement, not just a season to check it out. And some clubs policy toward leaving it are two ways-death or dishonor. Thus insuring a tightly knit brotherhood among its members, and also honoring club business. To put it bluntly, seen on a red and white shirt-"Snitches are a dying breed." Gossips take note-you may be one sentence away from becoming a snitch.

Some social, non-motorcycle clubs, have less strict rules of membership. And as people come and go, so does the flow of the chapter. Leadership comes and goes, and I have seen clubs like the Jaycees, or Rotary, or Knights of Columbus rise and fall based on the quality of its membership. How much commitment will they make? Do they understand the vision of the organization? Some like the Masons even have levels to attain, and have been compared to cults, because of some of their beliefs. Whatever the club, be sure to check them out first, believe they are checking you out!

God's rules for membership-which He refers to as having your name written in the Book of Life are simple. Repent, realize you are a sinner, confess Jesus with your mouth and believe with your heart and you are saved. No prospecting, no club rules, or initiations. Although Baptism is encouraged, it is not necessary for salvation. Jesus paid your dues, and you are a full member of God's family. He makes the gospel so easy, that even people like me can accept it. But when we come to religion, and denominations, man makes it difficult. Religion which means binding, like being tied up or tied down, and denominations, adding your insight or touch to what Jesus has already done, and what God has already said, making them just a little more unique, or at least better in their own eyes. "Won't you join our denomination, you will be better off," they say. Looking to gain numbers, even robbing from other churches, when they should be reaching out to the lost and dying world. If your church is more about numbers than Jesus, maybe you should be prospecting for another. If you are not being fed, look for a place that will feed you-spiritually. Check them out, maybe put them on probation. But never put God on probation. He has already proven Himself, all the way to the cross, and then His resurrection. Competition should be for saved souls, never to satisfy a church role requirement.

Do not buy into the lie we are all God's children. Read John 1:12, to all who received Jesus were given the right to be called the sons of God-not by man's rules but by knowing God-personally in Jesus. Those born of God-born again, of spirit and body.

Groucho Marx once said "I would never join a club that would allow me to be a member." God's membership is open at all times, in fact He tells us today is the day of salvation. If you aren't saved, maybe yours. Ask Him into your heart today. And when He comes into your heart, just don't wear Him on your back-you'll want to wear Him on every part of your body! And you will be part of a group of believers, a church, whose founder gave His life for the club-for while we were yet sinners, Jesus died, for us-at just the right time. The right time is now-will you join us? We'd love to have you. No lines, or waiting period. Prospects welcome.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com