to those who said "I'll never leave you"

Back then when we were referred to as the next generation by our parents who were of the greatest generation, I know they wondered what would ever become of this world. A generation of hippies, yuppies, revolutionaries, and long hairs with no respect for authority, we most certainly presented a problem to the establishment, as they referred to themselves. We were free thinking, although sometimes under an artificial illusion, and I had a friend who used to brag “I will try anything once, twice if it feels good.” And many did, and so it is said that if you remember the sixties, you probably weren’t there. But as many of us do remember the sixties, the one drug we started on, and continue to consume today in mass quantities is motorcycles. And to a generation that brought us out of WWII, the Big One, and saw the start of many motorcycle clubs-both AMA and Outlaw, the generation that won freedom, and expressed freedom via two wheels, had strayed from it. As they went from Schwinns to Cushmans to Hondas to Harleys, they finally ditched it all for the four wheel conveyance we call cars. Maybe a Deuce coupe when dating, then something more realistic as a sedan when the kids arrived. Then the station wagon so they could show their individuality and be like everyone else, and then finally on to the quiet, tomblike existence of big luxury car, as the income allowed. And evolution of wheels, a coming of age of sorts. For no responsible adult would be caught in a hot rod, only in their dreams would they do that. But we might find a young person speeding along in Dad’s Mercedes Benz.

Years ago a General Motors executive noted “you can sell an old man a young man’s car, but you can’t sell a young man an old man’s car.” And he was right. As we got older, we went right up the GM ladder of hierarchy, until we arrived in the Cadillac. Boy, how times have changed.

At a recent car show, with many old cars and hot rods, the average age of the car owners was well past retirement. Driving the cars of their youth, or the ones of their youthful dreams, hardly an old Cadillac or Buick was found among them, these were cars of youth, of freedom, and of weekend rides with the top down, your arm around your best girl, and with both eyes looking out for the law, who was always ready to swoop down out of nowhere and ruin your afternoon. You were having fun, as these older couples were, while back home in their garages you may find sitting a shiny new four door sedan. Detailed to the max by someone else. Just the opposite of their hot rods, who they would never trust anyone else to touch. And many with their wives along with them enjoying the gift of youth that old cars promises, and wondering why their own children drive four doors, when there is only two of you, who needs the extra doors? Which makes me think of a Tom Murray quote, “there are two kinds of girls, the ones you date on Saturday night, and the ones you invite home to dinner on Sunday.” Today it is interpreted as “good girls go to heaven, bad girls go everywhere else.”

So referring back to doing something twice if it feels good, many seek solace in the past via their cars. The time when you first dated your wife, and first tried to kiss her. When you knew she was the one, and finally got up the courage to ask her. Maybe in the front seat of that same hot rod, that you were forced to sell when you had kids and a job, and had to be more responsible. But you always look back to the good times with fondness, knowing someday you would have one again. To some the fountain of youth, to others a supply of endless memories, yet to others dreams finally realized while still old enough to sit up and take their meals. But that something wonderful about old cars, that bring out the best memories, and make even the tough times seem worth remembering. And if anyone should ask “where have the good old days gone?” they smile and remind you right now. These are the good old days. They never left, we did.

In motorcycling a resurgence is going on, as many who used to ride, then got married and responsible, are coming back to riding. Remembering their last bike, and finding out the one they remembered was in better shape, and was far less expensive than the one on Craigslist. Some will go into the dealer, where a kid who isn’t old enough to remember those good old days, won’t know what an Interceptor was, or anything with CB attached to it. And when he steers them to the current generation’s model, the price points them out the door. Some have bought houses for less! But to those that will listen, and whose dream is still alive, the world of motorcycles today is in a Golden Era. Honda makes entry level bikes, which outperform those from our youth, for half of what the newest and fastest go for. And as 500cc used to be big, now it is small, but performs better than your old 750. The bait is set, and we are hooked! And riding again, and the smile that we thought was gone and forgotten, now is hidden behind the newest full face. And a whole new group of new bikers is emerging, and proof that there is a fountain of youth-it has two wheels! And unlike the date of Saturday nights long ago, this one you can take home for Sunday dinner, and for a ride after.

Many Christians are like that. Life has interfered with plans, and church along with God was cut out of the equation. The one God they swore to never leave, they have left, and have looked for a way back. But some remember the religion end of their past, and shy away from church. Some when asked, will offer the excuse they don’t need the fellowship, but won’t miss the next car club or bike rally because of it. Fortunately God has an open door program, and welcomes you back. Waiting to meet you where you are, and carry on from there. Introduce you to new worship music, new fellowship, and getting back to the Bible, the same one you would tell everyone that you would never leave. And find all the things that you were missing all these years in that old friend of yours, Jesus Christ. And when you finally decide to welcome Him back, you find you are not alone. A whole generation that was so busy doing their own thing, now wants to do God’s thing, the one thing missing from their lives. The right thing. And soon Sunday morning rides are first to church, then out to lunch with others who ride and love Jesus, and they think-these are the good old days. And it will amaze and amuse some who they find in church. Those Saturday night dates have come to Jesus. And so have the ones from Sunday dinners at home. But the best ones are the best friend you married years ago, who has been along for the ride the whole time...the ones who have never left.

Wherever your testimony takes you, never forget the one who never left you. And is waiting to welcome you back. Finding the God of young man gets better with age, and as the relationship grows, find yourself young again. Life is exciting, and Jesus is real. More real than ever before. And when welcomed back into the family of God, will be heard to say “it’s like I never left.” Never leave again today, these are the good old days, with only better ones to come. With Jesus, of course. That old time religion, it was good enough for me. Still is.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

who is the Captain Kurt of your enterprise?

Touring the River Rouge Plant, at one time the largest manufacturing complex in the world, we were amazed at how raw ore came in via barges at one end, and F-150 pickups rolled out the door at the other. We often are amazed at who designed the product, but do we ever stop to think about who designed the plant or the manufacturing procedures. Henry Ford can be credited with making mass production work for the Model T, he actually based it on a butchering operation where the steer was moved between work stations on carts. But it took the invention of interchangeable parts, that Cadillac won a Quality Award for to make it all work. Something to consider next time the car won’t start-it goes way beyond final assembly.

My first job being paid for brains rather than brawn was as a production planner for Polychrome Corp. in 1974. We were currently purchasing two ton rolls of film, then converting them to size. From 4000’ rolls to 35mm film, 8x10, 10x12, and larger, we did it all. Working in safelight conditions, which also had to be super clean, as the film was undeveloped. A little crease, or ragged edge could scuttle the whole batch to the recycling bin, even a greasy fingerprint was dangerous. Also very expensive as film was coated with silver. Amazing to me that it could be done at all, particularly all in the dark. In the winter it was possible to come to work in the dark, work all day in the dark, and go home in the dark, without ever seeing day light. The only light was from a special flashlight with a dark red lens so as not to effect the film. But we were also in the midst of making our own coating facility-manufacturing our own film. Adding onto the existing factory, and changing the old to accommodate the new processes, while production continued. And Kurt Hausmann was the man in charge of the project. His intimate understanding of what came next, when to schedule the masons, then the carpenters, and how to work with valuable metals such as silver, add in inspectors, and the unions, and he was always busy. We used to joke he was part Mr. Spock, Scotty, and Captain Kirk-he knew all about how the ship ran, and without him there, construction came to a halt. He somehow dealt with deadlines, and when it all came together, and the first batch was test coated, it was all Kurt. Many had done the actually building, and the final coating process, but without Kurt’s vision, being taken to the engineers and draftsmen, then to production, it never would have been possible. It was his vision that others help create. He was the father of the project, the rest of us were just children.

Kurt lived in an ordered world, and when a problem came up, had to have a back up plan. He had to account for late deliveries, men out the day after too much party, and the next crew waiting when things got held up, or rescheduled. He had no room or little margin for error. Sin is like that, and when Kurt had a problem, maybe not caused by him, many suffered. There was no isolated problem, it affected all in the project. There also is no such thing as isolated sin. “Just some dirty pictures,” as his wife rebels. “Just a joint, not hard drugs,” as he loses his job. For the consequences of sin touch many, and damage all it touches. Families divorce, and kids pay the price. When one parent is missing, they will find someone to listen, usually not the one we would choose. And while if caught in time it can be remedied, when a major problem surfaces, life can come to a halt-and we all suffer. For generations.

God knew this, so sent His son Jesus. He not only created us, but has a vision for our lives, which is only revealed through Him. So many suffer needlessly without turning to Him, when He has the answers we need, when we need them. He knows what lies ahead, and has things arranged, from people to helicopters, there when we need them before we even have a chance to pray. He is prepared for what lies ahead, are we? We can be by turning to Jesus. We have three options in a crisis-bail out and fail, fight through it, or repent and follow Jesus. Relying on our own experiences will not make it-it takes direction from the creator, the one of vision.

Just as Kurt was the visionary of Polychrome, we need to let Jesus lead our lives. No one man could do it, Kurt couldn’t. He could give direction, but would it be followed? A similar situation we are in today, God offers direction, will we take it? Who is the Captain Kurt of your enterprise? Are you willing to follow God and go where no man has gone before? Boldly?

Without vision the people perish. So will film, to be cut into little pieces, soon so small it is useless to all. Before you suffer the same fate, turn to Jesus. Let Him resize you, remold you, regenerate you, and make you productive. A simple choice of following Him will change your life. And the lives of others. Ever hear of Mordecai Ham? Ask Billy Graham about him, he led Billy to Christ. How many lives has Billy touched for Christ? Sin is not the only thing isolated, mercy and grace abound where it used to. Enjoy life in Jesus, and when it all comes together, sit back and thank Him. Remember the vision it took to produce you, and to make you what you are. We are all like undeveloped film until we come into the light of Jesus. Out of darkness, into the light. Begin your tour with Him today.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

when a young man's fancy turns to...

It’s springtime! When a young man’s fancy turns to many things. But to those of us who ride, it means one thing. Winter is over and we ride again. Except for those of us in So Cal, or who steadfastly refuse to give in to cold, winter, snow and ice of winter. For us it means no more electric riding clothes, thick gloves, and three layers of riding clothes. But springtime it is, and even if the weather doesn’t match the calendar, we are ready and willing, but are we able? As I look out at the front yard, the grass has turned this suspicious green color, and is growing faster than I remember. In the back, where all winter it was brown, now it is alive, and the weed season has begun. Flowers are in bloom, and the bees are in them, as they begin their yearly pollen gathering and redistribution. It may still be cold at night, but warm enough under the covers, so the windows that were sealed shut for months now are open. Helping us to exercise self control over a midnight snack, or the urge to water the lemon tree in the middle of the night. With open windows it brings new sounds, or the awakening of new sounds, as we hear the cats fight in the night, the cruel howl of a coyote conquest, and the whistle of the freight trains. We forgot about the Harley the next block over-he rides all winter, and forgot how obnoxiously loud his pipes are as he warms it up for 20 minutes. Give in-by a fuel injected bike! We also get the first glimpse of allergies, as all the flowers, with a little help from the bees, are blooming, and smell so good, between sneezes. Spring is here-we made it through winter, and there is nothing you can do about it.

For most it means driving with the windows down, or turning on the AC and not the heater. Kids playing out after school, longer day light-who else besides me doesn’t love Daylight Savings? But to those of us who ride, it means we are able to ride again, or more. Some will go to the back of the garage, remove the covers, and push the starter button-and nothing will happen. Should’ve bought the battery tender on sale last winter. Finally it starts, and runs rough, maybe the gas is bad, but maybe I should have tuned it last year. So we call the shop, who fed us free donuts all winter. When they had no work. “We’re taking appointments for six weeks,” and your dream is shattered. Again, why didn’t I service it last winter? I told my wife that is why we needed a pickup, to carry the bike? So we haul it out, clean it up, and as the sounds of others riding, maybe more thoughtful than us, we resist the temptation, drain the gas, refill the tank, and off we go. But this thing wobbles, it didn’t do this when I parked it four months ago? Then in a flash of brilliance, you air up the tires, it suddenly runs better, smoother, and the huge smile on your face invites any bugs who may to try and wipe it from your face. It’s spring and your are riding! For in the spring the number one thing a man’s fancy turns to is riding!

Pulling up to the diner, you recognize the guys by motorcycle, not by sedan. And the lot is full. Time to catch up on lost winter dreams and rides, after an hour of bench racing, you’re off. Stopping by the shop, where all the new bikes are arriving, just in time for tax money that should be spent responsibly will be spent on necessity-a new motorcycle. One trip around the block, and your old ride, with bad tires, tired battery, and needing a tune up is like winning second place in a beauty contest. And promising the wife whatever it takes to appease her, you sign the papers, ride off, the envy of your friends whose wives don’t get it, and you won’t be seen for days. A small price for her to pay to get you out of the house, and out from under her feet so she can get things done at home. For summer is coming, and she wants to be at at the beach, so she prepares. Just like you should have been doing all winter, so you could ride. Maybe she does understand after all. But it is spring, and it means riding with buddies, taking rides you dreamt about all winter, and summer is coming, which means more of the same, just longer hours under better conditions. Life couldn’t be any better, the yard can wait...let’s ride!

And so the first festival of the riding season is complete, and the others await. God is into seasons too, and also festivals. And with Easter here next week, Passover has begun. What a great time for the Jewish people to look for the Messiah, who Christians believe is already here, and will return soon for us. And I think God knows why He put Passover in the spring. A time of rebirth, of beauty and fresh starts, what could be better than starting them with being forgiven. Giving glory to God, and thanking Him for Jesus, and feeling new and clean inside. Spiritually clean, your soul feels like the fresh air of spring, and you wonder, why didn’t I do this sooner. All winter has passed, and I could have been spending more time with God, and now it is spring, and it comes time to ride, what am I gonna do? May I suggest, first-pray. Thankfully and gratefully that God remembers even when you don’t. That Jesus isn’t seasonal, but the festivals God has created help keep us fresh in our relationship with Him. He remembers how much we forget, or get side tracked. And Passover means new life, and then Easter that we too will be resurrected upon death, just like Jesus did, after death. And as we wonder what to do first, after praying I suggest a ride. What better place than in the temple of your Arai alone with God than to thank Him. Enjoying both the creator and His creation with others, but also alone, as time spent with Jesus will always be time well spent. Being able to do it while riding just is an added bonus. And soon Pentecost will come and go, then a summer of great weather, great riding, and many new memories made-along with time spent with God. And then the Feast of Trumpets to celebrate the return of Jesus, and soon fall is upon us, and we promise to remember to do all the things to our new bike that we neglected on our old ones. And promise that we will keep in touch with God, it has truly been a great summer. But knowing we can get easily side tracked... another promise we intend to keep, but will break. Aren’t you glad grace isn’t dependent on you, but is all about Jesus?

For truly springtime is a time of rebirth, and a time to celebrate. And ride. Don’t wait all winter wondering what to do, turn to God now. He really isn’t seasonal, He is there in winter too. Just like the bike under the cover in the garage, He awaits you each day, and wishes you didn’t wait all winter to get back to Him. It’s OK to peek under the tarp, to sit on the bike and work the throttle, and make the noises. It’s also OK top spend time with God that way. And the more time spent with God, you notice winter is almost bearable, and spring takes on a newer and more refreshing outlook. Bikes may sit unridden and covered all winter. Don’t set God out for a season either. Enjoy winter for spring is coming. Enjoy spring for it is Easter time, and look forward to the return of Jesus. Any day now, it could be spring. Any day now He can return. What a better way to spend winter than waiting for Jesus. So get out and ride, with Jesus. Don’t make Him wait any longer. He has waited for you, what are you waiting for? For in the spring a young man’s fancy turns to riding. Don’t wait so long to return to Jesus.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

is there such a thing as an ugly motorcycle?

With each new generation, stylists, designers, engineers, and marketing groups try to impress us and tell us what is stylish and trendy. What looks so good now can make the old looks ancient, and that we just don’t see how we can ever make it without the newest arrival in our garage. So...many have come up with the lists of the worst or ugliest cars, so here goes, with motorcycles. First, let me say no bike is truly ugly, just some not as cool as others. Just looking at the timeless styling of a sixties Bonneville, and you will agree. Early Hondas of the same vintage look, well Japanese, and had to be reliable to overcome their looks. For the past 90 years Harley has reintroduced a vintage look, relying on bikes from 50-60 years ago as their basis. BMW’s have always had their own look, as has Moto Guzzi, and certain others. But here are some that no way could they even be parked in my garage, even under cover of dark.

Remember the first Suzuki Rotary of 1975? With the space ship styling, and instrument pod that was referred to as a lunch box? Blue or red, a no go, but the next year with regular instruments and black with gold stripes, it was handsome. Until you turned it ton-it whirred. Then burped when off throttle. Just to show that a great motor can be hidden behind an ugly face, remember the Rocket 3 from BSA with its space age exhaust-like a ray gun. RIP BSA, even the Jetson styled cycle couldn’t save you. You like big, Kawasaki made a 1300cc six cylinder touring bike in the eighties. Industrial looking, squared off tank, and BIG, no wonder it didn’t sell. Today they call then rare-bad taste is rewarded if you wait long enough.
Even Honda couldn’t keep the ugly out of the studio, or out of the showrooms with the Rune, a poorly executed custom in the 90’s. Saw one once, some non-bikers were laughing at it. Not even the name Honda could save this turd. Even Buell with all its interesting engineering somehow felt the need to wrap it in ugly, so as to give it a reason not to sell. The Buell lightning, why so people learned to Just Say No to riding even before quitting drugs. Maybe the saddest thing is someone or some design team was paid to design them, only one step behind the idiots who signed off on them. But not all manufacturers fall prey to ugly, we also have the chopper crowd. Way over priced, except when it comes time to trade or sell, beauty must be in the eye of the beholder, who sees green before beauty. Antlers on handlebars, OK for Dick’s Harley, maybe blame him for the craze, but on a Christmas chopper? Really, who asked Santa for this one? And bikes shaped like women, or lizards, or just plain ugly-I thought chopped meant chopped, as in parts taken off, not ugly added? Café racers are now the current fad, and they can get ugly too. But when holding on at over a 100mph, they don’t seem to care. Even Harley did one years ago, and it had promise, but the Bar and Shield loyal preferred chrome to power-still do. They can’t say no to chrome, while others can’t say no to horsepower. Just some late entries, the Suzuki B King that Ray has hot rodded, unless you feel 167 hp at the rear wheel isn’t enough for a 70 year old kid? So maybe beauty is in the eye of the beholder, until yesterday. There it was in white, where there should be black. Painted for a Progressive Insurance commercial, Flo, this white Rocket 3 was made for the commercial, and then to be crushed. Maybe to protect its integrity, but some Youtuber will add it, and the legend will live on. In a world of Honda red, Yamaha yellow, Kawasaki white, and Suzuki yellow-do we really need a white bike? We dubbed it the Good Humor bike, well at least it was good humor. We all have our tastes, good and bad, and have an affinity for what we think makes us look good. At least to us...

I heard a Pentacostal preacher one time joke about himself and other religious types. He told how he would spend hours in front of the mirror, spraying his hair, then polishing his patent leather shoes, then putting on his double knit suit. While his wife, taught to be modest, wore her skirt to her ankles, drab colors, low shoes, and not a hit of style anywhere. Keep your hair in a bun honey, then styling don’t matter. And he was funny, and right. But we all get prejudiced views on religion, nothing new. Then along came Jesus, who although we have no photos of him, years before digital, many in Hollywood and artists claim to know how He should have looked. Long hair or crew cut? Remember the famous non-quote, “let them wear there hair as long as they want.” Jesus wasn’t stylish, but somehow appealed to all. Something about Him that made Him different. So just like we have many trying to show how great a Christian they are by the xlever sayings on their shirts, Jesus wore the clothes of the day. Not trying to bring attention to Himself, His actions and attitudes would do that. And then He always pointed them to God, His Father. Which we all do, right? I mean, it really is all about Jesus isn’t it? Your shirt says so, is it true? Or are we just a great product, the signs say “God don’t make no junk,” just wrapped in a bad package? What do people see when they see us? Jesus, who they are drawn to, or us and our religious attitudes, and turn away? If clothes make the man, what did they make Jesus? As He was naked on the cross?

Who do you see when you see Jesus? Someday in heaven we shall see Him face to face, and instantly recognize Him. And Him us. For looks will not matter then, but like scripture tells us, “things seen are temporal, things not seen are eternal.” Why worry about what you wear in heaven, isn’t it more important to get there first? Ugly, beautiful, plain or fancy-we will all have one common denominator in heaven-Jesus. That is all that matters then, and should now. Take an example from what an old BMW rider once told me, about the jugs sticking out in the wind of his engine. “The view from over the handlebars is all I see. And it gets better as the roads go on.” I like that, the view from behind the handlebars. Maybe we do see things different from their than we are seen while passing by riding on it. What do people see when you go past? What do you see as you look ahead? Jesus loves you as you are, that work in progress. This years model, right now. Maybe the old rider was right-the best view is what’s ahead, on what you are riding right now. Look ahead to Jesus, so many roads and so many bikes. Let’s ride. A twist of the throttle will tell you more about performance than looks. Just ask Jesus.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthewbiker.blogspot.com

grace and the cola wars

Ken Cook and I met when we worked for Coca Cola together 30 years ago. He was hired to straighten out the service department, and took them from over tow days to two hours for service call response. So they asked him to do the same for sales, where I had made my mark, and we became a mutual admiration and respect team. We both knew how to get things done, and while many offered excuses, we delighted in our victories. We would and could be creative in our approach to doing business, which left many shaking their heads and wondering how, or even why. We just went onto the next challenge. So when the company moved into the coffee market, and full line vending, they targeted us to go after key accounts that were the competition, aka Pepsi. And one was the Fairfield Resort in Pagosa Springs, a huge full service resort in Colorado. I had been stopping in for months, and gotten to know Pam, who was in charge of growing their business, and she thought like Ken and I. So when we forced Pepsi’s hand to make a bid, she was in charge of the bid process. So arranging a meeting where she, Ken, and I could meet, I arrived early and was visiting with her when Ken arrived. She shook hands with him at her desk, and he and I both noticed something, and we could hardly contain ourselves. Right on top, in full view, was the Pepsi proposal! But how to get the info with her there? Quickly I asked her if I could see the room next door she had been telling me about, while Ken would use the men’s room. So as I led her next door, it left Ken alone at her desk, and he copied all the info, we met and he was gone. Laughing all the way home at what we had done, our quick thinking, as it would turn out, would land us this key account. And the legend continued...Grace in the form of opportunity.

At Christmas time, Evan Wickham has gotten some of his fellow Christian recording artist friends together for a Christmas Together Concert. Which filled the 3000 person sanctuary, and overflowed-mention Phil or Evan and the place fills with young people, and add Pawn Shop Kings, Molly Jensen, Jadon Lavik, Tyrone Wells, and Tim Timmons, the night was magical. Just watching Dick rock out that night was a gas. But with each artist, a testimony was shared, and Tim Timmons touched my heart, no pun intended. He has had cancer for over nine years now, and should be dead. But lives a pain free life, continuing to praise god despite the cancer, and being a living testimony to God’s grace. A true miracle even the doctor’s and oncologists can’t explain, but he can in one word-grace. So when he shared that night, I had to meet him, for I am a miracle also, God’s grace providing me with a testimony no one else shares, and being the only one in medical history with it. Like others who have seen grace first hand, we know we cannot explain it fully, it must only be experienced, and only with the presence of God, and the healing arms of Jesus. So as I stood inline to meet him, average age 3-4 decades less than me wanting to see him, I must have stood out. And ours eyes met, and as we shook hands I told him I cannot get his pain, it is that personal, and can be a lonely thing. And how I cannot explain His grace, for I too should be dead. And then I shared my story, my testimony, and we stood there with ours hands clutched from our outstretched arms. I shared with him the following-how God had shown my family grace via me. I would have been thankful to die 9 months ago, but God kept me here so my wife would not be a widow, and my children would still have a father here for them. I would get to see the successes they have accomplished, and will accomplish-more testimonies. But more important they would see me being blessed by that, and for that I am glad god ahs spared me to this time. And as I shared, Tim’s face lit up, a huge smile, turned to laughter, and he began shouting, “I get it! You get it!” Bouncing for joy, as someone finally gets it to, and we both had someone to rejoice with. WE had been there! And for a few seconds we both hugged, loved, and gave glory for God’s grace, or our families. In both our trials, we saw Jesus despite the circumstances, and our families were blessed by our still being here. But someday soon, I know we will soon be in heaven, but it will be in God’s time, not based on medical symptoms, burst aortas, or cancer. A few precious moments with a stranger I had never met brought tears of joy to our eyes, Merry Christmas Tim!

I still can’t explain grace, it still must be experienced. Don’t get hung up on teachings, or studies on it. It isn’t what you know but who you know. And Tim’s family and mine know Jesus, maybe just a little different than others. We have seen the grace, yet don’t try to explain it. We just enjoy it, with a grateful heart, again no pun intended. Like the answer to all prayers, it is all about Jesus.

Ken and I would go on to further victories, and both leave Coke for better positions. But perhaps the greatest compliment came from Pepsi, for after I left Coke, they threw a party for me. They just didn’t choose to invite me. Tim and I urge you to accept the invitation to God’s grace today. A party you will never forget. A grace you must experience yourself. And like his newest album , Cast Your Cares, we both have, and will. I hope you do too. If Jesus can save us, just think what He can do for you. Any questions...let’s pray.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

timmonsmusic.com

it's not rocket science you know

New Mexico is a wonderful blend of cultures both old and new. On one hand you have the Anasazi, or the ancient ones, whose cliff dwellings go back thousands of years, and right down the road you have Sandia Labs where the A bomb was invented. Cave men and rocket scientists all sharing the same state, no wonder it is called the Land of Enchantment. It is where when selling motorcycles years ago, I tried to explain to a man that you didn’t have to change the oil on a two-stroke with CCI injection, you just kept adding it. As I explained it was very simple, not rocket science, he looked at me puzzled, and said “I am a rocket scientist.” And with foot in mouth I changed the subject. So when selling cars with Chambless years later, it didn’t surprise me to see a group of them looking for him. He had just sold a Concord to one, and he was coming in to sign some papers. And while he was, his six friends were cruising the showroom. Easy to spot by their white shirts, crew cuts and black rimmed glasses, and showing more white sock between pants cuff and oxford than today’s baseball players. With their pocket protectors filled with pencils, pens, and even the standard issue laser pointer, these men were ready for anything. Or so they thought. Somehow mystified by a dark maroon Concord four door, they were gathering around it, one who actually kicked the tires, another mystified by how an antenna could distinguish between AM and FM signals and send them to the right place, and one even bouncing up and down while behind the wheel. These were the grandfathers of the kids in the show “Big Bang Theory,” and these guys may actually be working on a big theory that would bang. And as Chambless approached them, they all introduced themselves as friends of his latest sales conquest. And it was show time...

As he shook hands with all of them, they were excited about this four door sedan, and how its dark paint would hold up in the harsh sun in the southwest. “American Motors has special paint on their cars just for that reason,” Chambless began. “And after each car is painted, they shoot it with electricity so the paint molecules line up, forming a bond against the rays from the sun. They are the only ones who have it. On some colors they are hard to see, but sometimes on darker colors like this you can see the molecules lined up.” And as he bent over the roof, looking for this imaginary line up of paint molecules, he waved to one of them, “look, here you can see them,” and pointed across the roof. At first he couldn’t, and being urged to look harder, exclaimed, “yeah I see them. Wow they really do line up!” And soon all six of these rocket scientists were proclaiming they saw the paint molecules lining up! WOW! Nodding, pointing, and squinting with one eye, they had seen what doesn’t exist to the naked eye, the had seen the invisible. What a leap of faith! Wait until they got back to the labs and told their friends. This really was rocket science. Wonder how it would work on a space shuttle? Had they stumbled onto some top secret coating?

And as we all dove for cover so as to not explode laughing at these men, I am reminded that there is a fine line between idiot and genius. And sometimes you can be on both sides of the fence, and not know it. Ernesto and I were discussing last night how so many seek Biblical knowledge, hoping that as they got smarter, they would find more favor with God. But how good teaching stresses the application in our lives, and as we get closer to God, He becomes more of our daily walk with Him. Not smart or cultured like the Pharisees were, or educated with a DD, Doctor of Divinity after their title of Most Reverent High Servant Minister of a Humble God, but simple like the child that Jesus asks us to come to Him as. Humble in that we turn it all over to Him, and childlike that we sit at His feet taking in every word, and marveling at Him. For the gospel is simple, and meant to be, so that anyone can get it. And it is not so much a matter of intelligence, although why would anyone wish to go to hell, but a matter of the heart, where soon the mind will catch up as you grow in grace. Titles mean nothing to God, Jesus was more impressed with being called friend, and calling you the same. Degrees, IQ’s, social prominence, and financial status had no impact on getting into heaven. It was all about Him, and us being born again. The only way to be saved. And we remarked how even the stupidest Christian who has chosen Jesus is much smarter than the smartest, most intelligent one who rejects Him. So smart, as the rocket scientists, yet so stupid. Having more faith to believe a lie than to trust the facts, and trust God. And it continues on today...

So maybe the smart ones do go to heaven. It is smart to choose Jesus over anything else. So easy to do that even a caveman could do it, or even a rocket scientist. But it is simple, so I ask, have you accepted Jesus as your Lord and Savior? Do you believe He is God and died for your sins? Believe with your heart, confess with your mouth, and you are saved. No Big Bang Theory, no religious mantra or rules to follow. And much easier to find than paint molecules lining up on the roof of a car. That don’t exist. That’s blind faith.

Real faith used wisely produces many great things. Use it and turn to Jesus today. Watch as your life begins to line up with the Word, and you grow in grace. Watch as you discover things via the spirit that even the most intelligent mind cannot decipher. Watch as a joy overcomes you, and soon the blessings multiply. Faith, it only takes a little. Trust Jesus today, much easier than trying to see paint molecules line up. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that. Maybe God is right, it isn’t seeing that is believing, but believing that is seeing. And yes, I just had to look after they left. You know under the right light, they appear to line up...gotcha ya! Smart people don’t go to heaven, saved ones do. Be smart and saved, trust Jesus today.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthe25bike.blogspot.com

close to the edge

Billy Joel once had a close friend, who decided to move to the West Coast, after selling his house and giving up on the American Way. Ending up in LA. Might make a great song. But how many of us still live where we were born? I was born in Texas, but have lived in Jersey, Pennsylvania, Florida, New Mexico twice, with Colorado in between, and now in California. Sounds like another song. But after 25 years and living in So Cal most of my life, I feel like a native here. But can get along fine in Jersey, you got a problem with that? I also feel like I am home when I travel to Texas, although leaving there at only a few months old. And I feel very comfortable in New Mexico-at home in Albuquerque. Go figure. All this from a family that has the same address for over 54 years, and at one time they were the rebels, leaving a small town in Pennsylvania for New Jersey, some 60 miles away. My aunt never having anything but a Pen Argyl address, now living in a rest home an hour away. Finally my sister who never got off Algonquin Drive, it was like moving her bedroom across the street, she never left home. And when I left home at age 21 for the west, on my motorcycle, they considered me the rebel. So unlike Billy J.’s reference to giving up the American way, I am living it. And to each of us, there is no place like home.

Which I have passed on to my sons, one in LA, and the other moving only 30 miles north, but out of Escondido. Making their own lives, the way it should be, and going after and living their dreams. Take a young Chris Columbus. Nice Italian boy who when financed with Spanish pesos, set out to find an Eastern route to the Far East. And discovering Ohio, just a joke. But who was haunted by the fact that others who believed he would get to the edge of the world and fall off. He didn’t, later it was proved the world was round, but in his mind maybe he always wondered how close to the edge he was. Or if there was an eastern edge. And it is hard to find a true Native American, who used to be called Indians, started by the same Chris C. who thought he had landed in India, appropriately naming them Indians. And now we have Indians in Cleveland, Redskins in Washington, and Giants in New York. Raiders in Oakland, and Dodgers in LA. Who came from Brooklyn, where my mother’s family is from, where my Nana was orphaned at a young age when her mother was hit by a trolley car. Before baseball came to Brooklyn, and they were called Dodgers, for dodging streetcars. I wonder if Nana was ever a Dodger fan?

Some time ago, a young couple, Joe and Mary, were living in Nazareth, but were from Bethlehem. In Israel, not Pennsylvania. When the law commanded them to be part of the census, they made the trip to Bethlehem, where they had a son while visiting. They named Him Jesus, who although born in Bethlehem, was raised in Nazareth, and was referred to as the Nazarene. But also as the Man from Galilee. Who never had a permanent address, even never owned land as far as we know. But moved about the Holy Land His entire life, the last three in ministry. And then who told is followers to take His message from Jerusalem, to Judea, and then all the world. Which they did, setting up churches wherever they went. And whose descendants still do today, proclaiming the Good News of Jesus Christ, the gospel. And as believers, and followers, we know we have an eternal home I heaven, which we long for. So we come from a long line of those who set out to find the edge as Columbus did. To find the other way, a better way, and finally it is found in Jesus Christ. Not all roads lead to heaven, although they all lead somewhere. And the ride may be pretty, and exciting. It may even offer rewards along the way, but there is only one way to heaven, only one way home. And that is with Jesus. We may change addresses throughout our life, but it is where our heart is that we end up. And it is our choice.

So maybe the American Way, and the way in every country is finding Jesus. Taking different routes to get to Him, but finding He is the only way home. Which is why there are so many roads, yet not all lead to Him. Consider this from a man who was the Nazarene born in Bethlehem. Who hung out in Galilee. Who travelled most of His life, yet never forgot where home is. And invites us into His home today, just as He has for over 2000 years. Will you accept the invitation? Will you make the trip? With Him? Or are you still searching? Maybe a stranger in a strange land, who never left home, but never felt at home. Be like Billy’s friend, and be willing to give it all up. But give it up for Jesus. There is nothing wrong with the American way, even Superman endorsed it. But try it Jesus’ way, a better way, a heavenly way. You may be closer to the edge than you think. And now is no time to fall off.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com