it's better in the wind

Those of us who ride call cars cages for a reason. They are restrictive, not as much fun, no freedom like on two wheels, and you can't lane split. Set the temp, stick in a CD, adjust the cruise, and wander off in your private womb, safe from sensory input. And also fun. Yes, when riding we brave cold, hot, dry, and wet conditions, but we also get to explore sensory inputs like no others. And once you have ridden, riding in a car really is like being in a cage.

On a trip to Jersey a few years back, I rode from Escondido to there in under 70 hours. No rushing, just riding-alone. Lots of rain though, and if you have never crossed the Texas Panhandle in the rain, you haven't ridden in it. High winds, cold, and it is possible to get rained on from each side, not just from up above. Stopping in Adrian, along I-40 to get gas, it was blowing and raining so bad I had to lean against my Sprint ST so it would not blow over. And as I watched a Lincoln next to me filling, all the people crammed inside had fogged the windows from their breathing. And even though I was wet, cold, and had only 350 more miles to go that day, I as so glad I wasn't stuck in that car. It gave me a second wind, sort of speak, and I was rejuvenated. They were miserable in the car, and I was free. Too bad they couldn't see the smile inside my helmet. If you ride you know what I mean, if not, then you know how the people in the Lincoln felt-in a cage.

There are as many types of riders as there are roads and bikes. From over chromed Harleys, to over loaded Wings, from Bonnevilles and Scramblers to trailers and trikes, all ride-but all ride differently. And after watching a clip from the movie "It's Better in the Wind" I now know why I prefer the simplest of machines, with a few friends. Back roads, old diners, and older motels-who love bikers. Who can appreciate how the trip is the destination, and the destination is wherever you are at that moment. It takes me back to days when we would just ride, and camp out or find a motel after dark-never been left without a room yet. How when you met a fellow rider, no intros were needed, the bikes were what we had in common, and shared tales and roads and place to eat. Talking like we were old friends, but not even knowing names or where each other was from many other times. A trust, a brotherhood, and a way of life-with style. A better class of people who respected you, and watched your back, without even asking. Freedom from class warfare, news, jobs, and all the hassles life puts on us-we who ride know and are glad to be part of this brotherhood. Simple things done well. And like a friend told me, "if you are not confused, you are not thinking clearly." He obviously doesn't ride. And definitely needs to go on one.

But the brotherhood, like the church isn't perfect. Some have too many rules, and are brand/denomination oriented. Some preach brotherhood, but it is their agenda you must follow to be accepted. Some will go the other way, and accept anything-"do your own thing" their mantra. But taking it back to the basics-without rules, allows freedom to be expressed easier. That is what Jesus was all about. He came to save us from ourselves and our sin. To fulfill all the laws, because we never could. To establish a brotherhood based on love-which He was and still is. Encouraging us to fellowship with other believers-keeping the main thing the main thing-Jesus. Stay away from concentrating on the differences, but concentrating on Him. Freedom that being a biker comes close to, but never fully realized until you are saved. And He even extends freedom to choose Him or not. And the price of this freedom is FREE! Just like the word it represents.

Remember when riding was fun? Before meeting with a kick stands up leaving time? When a few of you together had fun all day, and into the night? When you didn't ride as fast as the slowest rider, he kept up or got left behind. And did because he wanted to, not because he had to. No plans, except to enjoy the freedom of the ride. Acting like kids, because no one expected you to act otherwise. Waving to other riders, no matter the brand, and keeping the main thing the main thing.

Church-it's time to get back to the basics. To your first love, to that experience that changed your life. Get back with Jesus, He is waiting for you. He never left you, we left Him. Reunite with your first love, and if you ride, go for one with Him. Don't get locked in a cage in a storm, ride through the storm, but never alone. Ride with the one who can calm the storms in your life. And don't look back-look ahead. The devil might just be gaining. Let the Rushing Wind of the Holy Spirit direct your paths. Trust God. Stay within the freedom the gospel provides, for as all of us who ride know, "It's better in the wind..."

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

itsbetterinthewind.com

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the survey says...

Agent Mulder is right-the truth is out there! Sadly most people are finding a sort of truth in polls. Based on opinions, rather than facts, many decisions are made by us daily, and loosely based on truth. But based on a perception of what we think is truth. Or whatever satisfies our desire at that moment. It seems every night the news, or sports, or whatever has some sort of poll that tries to influence us. For instance, ask an alumni gathering at Harvard which is the best school? Might just be a different answer than from Yale. Or Dartmouth. Do you feel crime is going down? If you just got robbed, it's 100% in your neighborhood. But yet polls, or focus groups are used to design, market, and influence us every day. And people tend to substitute opinions for facts, until the next survey comes around.

Read the small print on the next survey on TV. 1000 people may have been asked. That equates to 1 in every 310,000. Or like asking 7 people in LA how they feel about earthquakes. Or finding that one person in Albuquerque who doesn't like Mexican food and basing a decision on that poll number. Ask a person leaving a funeral if it makes them sad? Gee, I wonder... Ask a Gold Wing Rally how they feel about Hondas? Or a Harley group how they feel about chrome. I think you get the picture-even the polls are suspect, but yet they influence us and our decisions every day.

Imagine CNN and Fox News at Jesus' empty tomb? Was Jesus resurrected like He said He would be? The Christians-both Marys, John, and Peter would give a different poll number. Than would the Gnostics and others who believed He got up and walked away. it is all how you ask the question that influences your answer. How long has it been since you beat your wife? Much different than did you ever beat your wife? And yet, we live our lives based on opinion rather than facts. Are we in a depression or recession? Depressed if unemployed, recession if you are working. Are you depressed or recessed?

Did you know that all lies are based on facts? Not an opinion, either. Ask an Atheist if he believes in hell before death, and if you could after you would get a different answer. He certainly believes in hell after death.

And life is also not a multiple choice test. I could always find the wrongest answer, it was the rightest answer that would avoid me. They all sounded so good. So based on the truth, God gives us a simple test about Himself. The question that someday all will be required to answer. Based on the truth, and not popular opinion at the time. Jesus even asked Peter, "who do you say I am?" And Peter answered, not based on opinions, poll numbers, or perspectives, "though art the Christ." And Jesus replied "you have answered well." He could have said a rabbi, a physician, a caterer, a fisherman, or even an eye doctor. All would have been true. But Jesus came to seek and save those that were lost-He is THE savior, THE Christ! Who do you say He is?

No polls will get you entrance to heaven. Knowing Jesus will. Muslims believe He was a great teacher. Some religions tell you that you have to work your way to heaven. The Jehovah Witnesses deny His deity, and heaven. Mormons tell you He was created as Satan's brother. Only the Bible tells the truth-He is the Son of God, who died on the cross for our sins. He is God-part of the Trinity. So do not let opinions become a burden to you. Seek the truth, and let Him set you free! Let your Yes be yes, and your No be No!

For even the blind man after being given his sight answered, "all I know is that I was blind but now I see!"

Poll question-would you rather go to heaven or hell? If you answered heaven-Jesus is the way. If you answered hell, Jesus is still the way to heaven. Make the right choice-Jesus. No brag-just fact. And let your yes influence others as to the truth. You can have your opinions, I'll stick with the truth.

love with compassion,

Mike

just a generation ago...

I was talking with some guys from my age group the other day about how I rode without a clutch cable when it broke on my old 1978 Suzuki. The general consensus was no big deal, we all had done it at one time or another. But since Teflon lined cables now are the standard, we can't remember when was the last time we broke a cable. Which shifted-no pun intended, to the different bikes we have ridden, and the different way they shifted. Thanks to the Federal government, since 1975 all bike shave shifted on the left, down for first, then up for the rest, with neutral between first and second. You can now get on any bike since then and ride. If you know how. Six speeds being the norm now, a far cry from Harleys in the sixties with only three speeds. And riding used to be more challenging-more manly if you would.

Triumphs and Nortons would shift on the right. Triumph one down, the rest up. But Norton was one up, and the rest down, which could make for exciting moments-one was enough for me. When Bill installed Dunstall rearsets on his CB750, it reversed the shift pattern, GRAB THE FRONT BRAKE! Came close, but never hit anyone. My friend Lello had an old Kawasaki 100, with a rotary transmission-N-1-2-3, then would repeat, N-1-2-3! Many times went looking for 4th, only to hit neutral-then slide sideways as bike locked up going into first. But most other bikes would shift on the left, so the government made the rest of you shift our way. Perhaps the final battle lost in the English motorcycle wars. And at old bike meets it is funny watching some young kid figure out why the shifter is on the wrong side. He must be post 1975 himself. But somehow we all made it through those years where whatever we wanted to do was right, and you actually learned to ride-or get off quickly.

Honda and some others actually made an automatic, drove one once, but you still had to shift, on the left, just no clutch. S-L-O-W.....And no need going into landing on a trunk when the early Trident I was riding needed to stop, and I hit the shifter instead of the brake pedal, exiting the bike over the bars, damaging my ego, and not the bike. Poor guy I hit probably lost all interest in riding that day,too. Bottom line-learn to ride!

Now I don't actually think that standardization is wrong in the placement of shifters, but it is in other areas. The Bible warns us that in the last days, there will be a universal church-one religion for all. Which sounds good until you realize it won't include God. And the government will regulate it. Even the Vatican has come out recently telling us we need one religion. Not a new idea, but one for the end times, and anti-Christ will declare it. God has always given us the ability to choose, starting with Adam and Eve-although there are consequences for bad choices. True love demands a choice, that is why God doesn't force us to follow Him. It is our choice not to go to hell. He just gives us the choice. But sadly some wish to burden us with laws and legalism, for our own good. But really just to show themselves as superior to us-at least in their own eyes. But never God's. For living under the law and legalism is contrary to Jesus-you cannot earn your salvation, you cannot make God love you more, and last time I checked, He doesn't want our help. It is finished means it is finished. All done. By Him! We just get the benefits when we accept Him.

Don't fall into the trap that the US fell into years ago. They were going to build a safe motorcycle-another legacy of the Carter Administration. And they almost succeeded except for two main points-someone would have to ride it, and it only went backwards! Sadly Congress is still going backwards, yet never learned to ride. So learn to ride, and enjoy the ride before some do-gooder who can't tells us how to. And get close to God-NOW! Before some not-so-gooder tells us how too. You cannot legislate bikers on how to ride, and you cannot legislate morality. Both come from the heart! You can't make following Jesus standard, but you can make the choice standard! Choose Him today before it is taken away. Look out for Sharia law, it is coming, with the anti-Christ. My best advice, and backed up by God-choose Jesus now so you won't be here when it happens. Just like the Beach Boys sang about their little Hondas-"first gear, it's all right-second gear, hang on tight-third gear, outta sight! FASTER-it's all right" 45mph never felt so fast or so good!

Jesus and riding-no matter which side you shift on, make sure you ride with Him. Enjoy the ride. For where the spirit of the Lord is there is liberty. Before the next generation wonders what freedom was really like! And there is no one left to remind them.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the seasons of love, part 5-death

Two years ago I was in two motorcycle accidents in one year, I was hit twice, neither one my fault. And a well meaning friend was curious if God was trying to tell me something by my accidents? Like give up riding, because it is dangerous. So while visions of careless women on cell phones, drinking lattes while they should be driving, and under the influence of children flashed before me-a daily event for those who ride and try to dodge them, I simply answered, "yes He did. He reminded me of how some women should not be allowed to drive cars." Which is the truth, one had turned in front of me without looking, then yelled at me while I was pinned under her car, and the other woman had a suspended license. She hit me when I was right in front of her! Not the theological answer he was pursuing, but truth none the less.
After church one Sunday morning, a man saw my Triumph shirt and started telling me he had an older Bonneville. He loved to ride, but his wife wouldn't let him. My first thought was how can a man with such great taste in motorcycles have such bad taste in women? Then I met her, very attractive-until she opened her mouth. He introduced me to her, saying I rode, and then she proceeded to tell me how dangerous motorcycles were, and how as a Physician's Assistant she had seen too many riders who were seriously injured. That was it-she was going down-40 years of stupid "motorcycles are dangerous" comments were coming to an end that day. I even tried to lighten the tone of the conversation, by telling her how I used to be in the medical field, I used to be a patient. But this not quite a doctor just stared. So I told her, "I'm really glad to meet you, because I have a medical question." Now she was interested. "I have had four friends in the past two months die in their sleep. I would think that this makes sleep a very dangerous thing to do? Is it safe for me to go to sleep tonight?" Her silent glare told me more than any words, before she grabbed her husband and stormed off. Him smiling, hers, a little less than any smile I've ever seen.
Now Frank and I have discussed how we are not afraid to die, but not quite sure about the process. But sleep? If we had a choice of how to die, which we don't, isn't that the number 1 preferred choice? But sadly, although sleep may be the process, it is the where you land after death that is more important-more important than how.
Two thieves were crucified with Jesus. One turned to Him, and repented. Jesus assured Him that He would see him in paradise that night. He had avoided hell by accepting Jesus-right now was the closest to hell he would ever get. But the other thief denied Jesus. And although just a few feet from him, this was the closest to heaven that he would ever get. Same question, same Jesus. Different answers. One man's answer condemned himself, the other man's answer saved him.
Death is a one way door-forever. No handle on that door from the inside to escape. think about that before you fall asleep tonight. You have no promise of tomorrow. But Christians do-we have the promise of heaven, so if we die before we wake, we know that we will wake up with Jesus. Think of that before you fall asleep tonight, just might change the way you pray, or start you to praying. Jesus is the way to heaven. And He doesn't send you to hell-He died so you don't have to go. Your answer should be obvious-but it is still your answer. Will you trust Jesus with your life?
God has given those of us who ride a passion for it. I don't wish to drive around in some vinyl lined, econo-box death trap thinking I am safe. That ain't life. Life is for the living, and how I live is up to me, how I die is up to God. I cannot choose the time, the place,or the method. Timothy tells us to fight the good fight, to keep the faith, and have a good conscience. Good Godly advice. Works whether riding or sleeping. So don't let the sun go down on your anger, or your fears either. Or your ignorance. Trust God. For a good night's sleep and all the rest. And if you happen to be in the medical field, I pray that you rest peacefully. Sleep can be a dangerous thing. I bet she never realized how safe riding a motorcycle really was? I hope next time she is offered a ride she accepts, and see what freedom in Christ is all about.
Good night.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the seasons of love, part 4-summer

This is pure supposition, and I really have nothing to back this up as I wasn't there, and don't know anyone else who was, but I believe it was summer when God created the earth. It only makes sense, everything was in bloom, the skies were bluest, it didn't rain, and they didn't need clothes. And since God is love, and made us in His image, and He is a summertime type of guy, I like to think it was summer, and that is why summer is always the most romantic of seasons. Long summer nights, warm summer days, and for those who happen to be young the prospect of meeting someone and falling in love. So I always entered summer with great expectations, somehow the girls from other schools, other towns, or someone's cousin made them more exciting, and more attractive. Add the thought that your romance may end when you go back to school, it makes each day, each date, and each time together special. Not a new concept, but one that goes way back.

It is 1945, July, and WWII is almost over. A generation of teens who have endured the Great Depression, WWII, and now are faced with their last summer of freedom-next summer will be graduation and jobs, maybe college. But for this summer, love will be in the air. July 13th, Friday, was the night that two teens met. Though living in different towns, somehow the three miles between them had kept them separated until that night. He was a senior, polite, well mannered, and dressed nice. She a cheerleader, and next year's head cheerleader. They met out at the park, at the concession stand. And after talking over Cokes, may have used any remaining nickels to ride the carousel,listening to the calliope. And maybe not that night, but on some nights would sneak off to the picnic area, and sit alone with other couples wanting to be alone together. They never knew it, but that night started a relationship that 66 years later still endures. 60 years of it in marriage. 57 years as parents, 31 years as grandparents.

When my parents married, my dad had joined the Air Force, he called my mom and they decided to get married-hurriedly. Not because they had to, but because they wanted to. My Pappy even commenting when my mother told him she was getting married asked, "why would you want to marry that jerk?" If only he knew. A simple wedding, with a cool reception. Was your mother cool enough to serve Oreos at hers? And that was all the details we had until last summer when visiting. My mother was telling the story of how after they married, she found his little black book, and blacked out all the names. Except for one, Mel. She couldn't understand why he would have one men's name among all the other women. When my father remarked, "Mel was a girl, short for Melanie," we all laughed until we cried. And as it turned out, Mel was the last girl he dated before he married!

When I counsel young people, or before I perform a wedding, I let them know about the commitment they are about to make. You may not always be in love, but honor the commitment. It is worthwhile. And in a society which either shuns marriage, we'll just live together to see if we get along, who has kids out of wedlock-remember when they used to be called bastards?-or either divorces because they can't get their own way, and don't get along, my parents and many others in their generation honored that commitment. A commitment that sets an example for their kids, and grandkids, and continues to as they take care of each other in their golden years. Sad, but when I visit divorced people, they lost more than a spouse-they lost a partner. They broke their vows, and now have lost part of themselves-a part no significant other, girl/boy friend, or live-in can ever appreciate. For those who have honored their commitments have the security that it brings, and includes God. Who by the way, hates divorce. Take a look around at the broken families-do you need more evidence? If you are divorced, look at the damage in your own life.

But God forgives, can you? He can rebuild, or renew. Would you let Him? Young and foolish is one thing, old and stupid, and lonely is no way to go. I have been them all at one time or another-lonely is a way I would never wish to go alone. I am honored by my parents that they have honored their commitments.

Which makes me wonder whatever happened to Mel? I only hope she found the right one for her. I'm glad she was just a name in a book. Just glad it wasn't my dad. I've gotten quite attached to him and my mother. 66 years is a long time to be friends, but I guess when you marry your best friend you have started off on the right foot. And that is why summer is my favorite season, and perhaps the best season of love. But anytime you can spend with your best friend is time well spent. They have over 264 seasons to show for it.

My son Christopher tells me "it is tough raising parents." He's right. So I think the best advice I can give to mine is I love you. Thanks for the memories, examples, commitment, and love. "Out park" never sounded so good.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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the seasons of love,part 3-spring

Theresa wanted to live in a cabin, in the mountains, so we moved to Vallecito Lake, 27 miles from Durango, at 8300' altitude. It don't get more mountainous than that. And as we learned, the Rockies get a lot of snow, 500" the first winter, but only 300" our second. Meanwhile...I had bought a new 1981 KZ750 from my friend Tom in Salida. Using Don Atencio's truck, I had picked it up in November, and stored it in the basement, which was accessible from the lower level, and there it had sat-all winter! With only 20 miles on it, and the 6 month warranty running out soon, I was concerned the warranty would run out before winter would!

Oh the pain of it all! But the hope of spring kept us going. Too bad it takes so long. But many succumb to the cold, below zero as a high, the snow, and the cabin fever. I couldn't ride, but I at least could go sit on. So I did, with the hope of an early spring keeping me going. And sometime in April, my impatience was rewarded. We had some days in the 50's, then the 60's, and the snow was melting fast. And when it got down to only about two feet deep, I couldn't stand it any more, and decided to dig a path to the street. Simple, you say. Well...we lived about 100' off the street, down a steep hill, you could sled on it, and the only access was an old BLM road that was so bad the ruts were a foot deep. But I could see the street-nothing was going to stop me!

So I was up early, and digging a three foot wide path to the street-and freedom. Which seems easy, until you do it. Essentially you are digging a long, deep rut with two foot walls of snow surrounding you. At noon, I had gone all of 25 feet, and was sore, tired, impatient, and not sure if I would make it. Those were the good things. But I had help, reluctant at first, from my wife, who started digging with me. Now the old saying that a job and a wife have been the ruin of many a biker isn't true of her. I had a good job at Coke, and a great wife who loved to ride. All the encouragement I needed, although a D-8 Cat would be nice. So we finally got to the street, just before dark, and it was time for the bike. The plan was I would ride it up the path we made, which meant it had to start-which it hadn't since November. To our amazement it started right off, and then backed it out-only to find I needed to dig more so I could turn it around. Excitement had interrupted my sense of planning. At this point I was going to get to the street even if it was my last conscious act. So here I finally was-pointed up the hill, bike running, and took off!

Now does the expression "slicker than snot " mean anything to you? If not, you have never encountered Colorado red clay-which is "STS!" And with water running in the ruts from melting snow, and fist sized rocks lining the bottom, it was a hill climb of the first degree! And after a few runs, never made it more than a few feet. Thou shalt not repeat the words from my mouth.

Remember that old saying about the biker and his wife-well this wife came to my rescue-pushing while I tried to hang on, bouncing and twisting up to the street. While mud, rocks, and cold water mixed with snow pelted her. I was so busy on what was ahead of me, I didn't see her getting nailed by all the above, and when I hit pavement, took off for a few miles. I was free! The official start of spring had begun.

With my adrenaline still pumping I returned, and I was shocked to see her. "What happened to you?" And no flowers or candy, well maybe chocolate was going to make this situation better. She was covered with mud, in her hair, her face, her clothes, and when she went to take a shower even found it in her underclothes. Amazing stuff-mud. But the bike was free, the weather was nice, and spring was in the air. Even if it was also all over my wife.

God shows us signs of the seasons, and while we wait patiently for spring to arrive, we still have to endure winter. Some get impatient, wondering if it will ever arrive, struggling through cabin fever, wondering if the promise of spring will ever arrive, then forgetting how bad winter was when it does. As Christians we are patiently awaiting the call from heaven, with the sound of the trumpet to call us home. The rapture, as we call it, has been promised for 2000 years. And while some grow weary, even wondering where is God in this promise, we who remain wait faithfully. For just like the signs of spring, when we see them we know we will be riding soon. Winter will be gone, and our waiting is done.

Today the signs are all around. Watching the news headlines is like seeing scripture come alive. Winter will soon be gone, and spring will be here-expressed in God's love as we all arise to heaven. But we must be patient, as no path digging, or early season snow melting helps it along. Signs won't get you there-only Jesus will. God's timing is perfect, and Jesus is patiently waiting for the sound when we all are gathered with Him.

And unlike my new bike warranty that would expire in time, no matter if the bike was ridden or not, God is faithful, His promise to us never ending. Be patient-endure to the end like we did. And remember you are not alone. God sent me the prefect helper that day-Theresa. And she remains to this day-although that was the last time we ever dug the bike out. We were ready in the future-prepared for what spring promised us. We moved to Southern California.

Get right with God today. Springtime, aka the rapture could happen at any moment. Don't miss any riding time, aka time to share Jesus now. Waiting to dig out the bike will be too late. We are closer today than we have ever been before.

Springtime in the Rockies, all because Theresa had to live in the mountains. And I couldn't wait to get my new bike out. Jesus is coming soon to get us out! Let this lesson be the push you need to rise above your situations and be ready.

MARANATHA! Truly spring is all about love. Just for that, I think I'll go riding. And thank the Lord.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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the four seasons of love, part 2-winter

Cathy and I got to be friends after she broke up with her boyfriend and started hanging out with our "gang" again. She was was very pretty, with long brown hair down to her waste, and also my friend Joe's sister. In these BC days, before Christ, I was very wild, and when we started getting to be friends, she was warned. I was told. But being independent, she was fine, as I respected her, and also for the fact that not Big Brother, but her brothers were watching. There was always the constant reminder of "not with my sister" hanging in the air, but we became close anyway. Never quite boyfriend/girlfriend, but we spent so much time together that a casual observation might lead you to think otherwise.

We lost touch after I got saved and moved to Albuquerque, but when I drove back to Jersey with my best friend Terry and his sister, Geralyn, my first call from my parents house was to Cathy. It was Christmas break, and she came right over. Something magical was going on between us, and we spent ever waking moment, and some non-waking moments together. Christmas was in the air, and talked of getting married. Things seemed so right that Christmas, and even Lance thought we would make "a fine Christian couple," although it would be less than six months until she was saved. Even Joe thought it was a good idea-so the planning began. And it was fun, until we discovered one obstacle that we couldn't overcome. My life was in New Mexico, hers was in Jersey. And neither one of us would move. And then it became evident that although the feelings of love were there, it takes more than feelings to be in love. We decided to wait, which is just like saying nothing is like saying no. It was my first experience with God telling me no. And my first lesson on what no meant. It meant that He had something better planned for me. A lesson He would repeat to me many times again.

Pastor David Jeremiah tells the story of two people who went to his church. We will call them Barbie and Ken. Ken was handsome, talented, and destined for greatness. Barbie was pretty, smart, and both loved the Lord. The story around the church was what a great couple they would make for God, and they planned to get married after college. But at the last minute, before the wedding, Ken had a decision to make-the hardest one ever. His heart was in ministry-in Africa, and Barbie wanted to stay home and have kids. So much in love, but also in love with God. A few days before the big event, and it was to be BIG, Ken told her that he could not abandon the dream that God had given him, and unless she wanted to go overseas, he could not marry her. She understood, and through the tears they both went on with God.

Ken prospered in Africa, starting churches, and keeping in contact with his home church. His contact was a young secretary, who we will call Betsy. He and Betsy got close during letters, phone calls, and on his first visit back. But you could tell something special was between them, and the girls wondered, dare they set them up on a date? Which turned out to be the best thing for them. They fell in love, and got married. Betsy shared Ken's dream for establishing churches, and at the time I first heard this story, some 20 years ago, they had started over 150 churches in villages where no Jesus had been before. Together they were a mighty team for God. But it took a no from God, that was followed by a mighty yes to bless them both.

My yes came just in time for that next Christmas. And I will be celebrating my 35th Christmas with my wife and best friend this year. Like Ephesians tells us, God gives us more than we could ever ask for or ever imagine-and He delivered with Theresa. But it took that no, and even coming so close with Cathy, for God to get my attention. With Theresa I have the perfect partner, we both love Jesus, minister together, and ride together. Like the old Turtle song says "I can't see me loving nobody but you, for all my life!" And that's how God has made us. Happy. Together.

Jesus, Theresa, and motorcycles. It don't get much better. And a lesson on God's love,and how no means something better yet to come. For it is true Jesus is the reason for the season-and He has given me a wonderful wife to remind me of that every season. Every day. For love is more than emotions, it is a person. Now that's love-that's Jesus.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogpsot.com