the things dreams are made of

When asked “what is that bird anyway?” Bogie replied, “that is the thing that dreams are made of.”  Of course you know he was referring to The Maltese Falcon, a jewel encrusted bird claiming to have infinite value, but it was the dream of obtaining the bird, after chasing it internationally that was most of the story.  And as a kid, we used to look at dream cars that way.  Sometimes they were part of a travelling car show, like GM’s Parade of Progress, where you could see cars of the future today.  Unique, futuristic styling, more powerful motors, and a chance to look ahead-to see the future and anxiously anticipate it.  With someday being a key word, as in “someday I’ll own a car like that.”  A phrase passed down from generation to generation, from fathers to sons...keeping the dream alive.  For at one time, cars were the things that dreams were made of.  But today we find ourselves sadly disappointed, as dream cars now have little to do with cars, but are showcases of modern electronics, blutooth, i-phone, and other gadgets to make your driving experience more productive, rather than seductive.  With all the romance of a cathode ray tube screen, replaced by a touch screen, from buttons for radio station changes, to voice actuated-now you don’t even have to listen to the radio, and hope your favorite song is next-just dial it up, if dial is the correct word, and listen to it over and over.  No wonder we look back with fondness on what we once looked ahead for. 

I can remember the new cars being driven on transports, covered so that you couldn’t see what was underneath.  Dealer windows covered in brown paper, announcing the day and date of the new models intro, and going down, pushing against the windows just to see them that morning.  But for days before peeking into the service department, where they were being made ready, and usually being chased out when caught.  “We were only looking,” we had taken the bait, and soon describing them to our friends made us and them the topic for conversation.  The fins were bigger, colors brighter, look at that interior, and I heard one run-it is fast!  All things that dreams were made of-and we had seen the future first...

And then actually sitting in one, the new car aroma was overwhelming as the smell of plastics took us over, no leather back then, patent leather, or GM’s Morrokide vinyl ruled the day.  Hard to tell from the real thing, which none of us had seen anyway.  Chrome shining until we left our handprints on it, and leaning over the fender careful not to let our belt buckles scratch the paint, all under the watchful eyes of the sales force.  A relationship we didn’t want to damage, as they would be a source of brochures, promo items, and sometimes even models of the new cars, if we were cool, promising to tell our dads where we got the goodies, and who to ask for.  And we did, but rarely did they ever return despite all our begging.  Wide eyed, and excited, we had seen the future, yesterday and today, and couldn’t wait until tomorrow when we could drive, and have our own dreams fulfilled.  But many of last year’s dreams would fulfill the lust and desire first, but that was OK, and it fills old car shows and cruise nights across America still.  And I still can’t get excited about today’s “new” cars.  And never wondered why.

Imagine trying to explain a touch screen to a teenager in 1960.  “It’s this glass screen, like on a TV, and all you do is touch the little pictures on it, and the music changes.”  Such was the dilemma John the Baptist found himself in 2000 years ago.  Faced with visions of the future, from the very one who was and is the future, Jesus Christ, he had to try to describe things he saw in the terms of today, describing the what he had never seen comparing it to what he had.  Not an easy task.  Explain the difference in the 1965 Chevy SS and a Ford Galaxie.  I’m waiting, and we both have seen them, yet words will fail us.  All on an isolated island with no internet to help him.  So he did his best to describe the future to us...and what a future it will be, with daily previews bing provided as scripture unfolds every night.  And if you read Revelation, the only book told that if you read it you will be blessed, why haven’t you?  The future is where we will spend our time, and where we spend it is based on who we say Jesus is.  The final exam of life,  we get to choose, heaven or hell, which should be easy, but has been made hard.  So I will attempt to take it down to basics.  HELL-eternal torment, a forever migraine, no light, a darkness that cannot be explained, and a loneliness beyond imagination, you have chosen not to follow Jesus, and He honors your request.  No God to bother you, so in pain, darkness, and loneliness you face eternity, no tomorrow to look forward to, now is more than can be handled.  And it never goes away...

HEAVEN on the other hand is eternal bliss.  No riding on clouds playing a harp, for eye has not seen, ear has not heard, or mind imagined the things of God.  So whatever you think it is, it isn’t-it is better.  Better than peaking at the new cars under the canvas or behind the paper on the windows.  No words on earth can describe it-for heaven is God’s home, and now it is yours.  No pain, streets of gold, gates of pearls...only a fool would say no to that.  For only a fool says there is no God.  Aren’t you glad you know better?  That you claim Jesus for your savior and as your God?  And even more blessed we find ourselves when we realize the things that dreams are made of is really a person...not a thing.  But will and does shower us with things.  Put yourself in John the B’s place, here is your chance to.  Let today be your day of salvation.  Bogie sought a jewel encrusted bird, you can have jewel encrusted streets and homes.  As kids we looked forward to the dream cars, predicting the future, now you know what God has made available to you.  Through the eyes of a child find Jesus today, and enjoy the peace of knowing that your dreams will never come close to the joy of reality in Him.  In heaven.  Sorry Bogie...

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com 

why you can never find a cop when you need one

My attitude towards riding has changed over the years.  When I first started riding over 45 years ago, when you were interested in riding, you sought out guys who did.  And after buying one, earned membership in riding by being asked along on Saturday mornings.  Where you found if you rode, they figured you knew how.  No rookie class, you were expected to keep up.  When asked “do you have gas?”  it meant are you full, for we weren’t stopping for over 100 miles, and may be no stations in between.  And so you came prepared, no one wanted to be the rookie, and you learned how to ride faster, lean farther, and use skills you didn’t know you had.  We didn’t ride fast, you rode slow-a tag no one wanted to wear.  And you learned to follow the leader, which sometimes just meant riding back and forth in front of a girl he wanted to impress, gunning your engine, doing burnouts, and honking your horn until she appeared.  Mostly though it brought out her dad, part of a generation who didn’t like bikers, and even sometimes the cops, they were too busy harassing us and checking our license and registration-after a few times you would think they would get our names.  Showing that this was maybe why you could never find a cop when you really needed one, donuts optional.  But you had fun, increased your skills, and if you wanted to ride, you knew the time and place to meet.  And you would also learn humility, as no matter how fast or what you rode, someone was always faster, and had more talent than you.  Mostly it was less fear in twisting the throttle.  But you got better, had fun, and so you weren’t the rookie, or the back marker everyone was waiting for.  We ride to ride you quickly learned, not to wait on the side of the road for you.  Lead, follow-or just get out of the way.  And three of us, sometimes, four, formed a great riding relationship.  And as the rookie at first listened to our bench racing, soon he would have his own stories to tell.  Stories of speed, curves, girls, cops, and the next week’s ride.  We never crashed, proving there was a God, go into a curve too fast-you’ll see Him!

Sadly my first attitude change would occur years later when riding with a motorcycle ministry.  Being told I rode too fast, it was really they rode too slow, making excuses for mediocre riding skills.  Sadly this carried over into their personal life, and soon I learned to ride alone if I wanted to have fun.  It seems the group was willing to dumb itself down in many areas-call it compromise, and wasn’t looking to grow, just be looked at.  And found staying within their own group left out the chance to be embarrassed by their lack of riding skills, and to minister.  Choosing a lazy way out, I soon left them behind, wondering, while I went wandering.  And I ‘m the bad guy?

My approach to Jesus is the same.  When first saved, I went to church.  No rookie lessons, I jumped right in, and found others who would encourage me, rather than make excuses for my newness.  I was a Christian, and they talked to me like one.  I thought all churches taught about Jesus, and was disappointed when many didn’t, but taught on themes.  And soon learned why some never grew, and why some never wanted to.  I found that just like I wanted to get the most out of riding, I wanted the same out of Jesus.  So soon I started hanging out with more mature Christians, listened to good teachings, and found a church that was based on Jesus, not just a Sunday morning religious meeting place.  And I grew, and still do today, saddened only when I meet others after years who have fallen away, or never grew.  Some sold their bikes, or parked them never to be ridden again, and took the same attitude with Christ.  They had fallen away, by choice, and when other Christians would appear in their lives, weren’t interested in Jesus any longer.  They had achieved mediocrity, a slow death, and wondered why no one called anymore.  Could it be the excuses?  Not theirs, it was always some one else’s fault.  The pastor didn’t recognize them-you need to go to church first.  They felt left when others talked of what God was doing in their lives.  Others had chosen to let Him in, they hadn’t.  And soon all religious people were the same to them, and their poor attitude soon poisoned their families, and all who still hung with them. 

Do you ride to slow, or are you accused of riding too fast?  Are you using all the skill God has given you, and all the power your bike has?  Do you hold it back, or is it holding you back?   History proves you can take a fast rider and make a slow bike go faster.  Sadly it also shows you can take a slow rider and make a fast bike go slower.  How fast is your God?  Do you want it all, but he can’t give it, or are you happy with mediocrity?  Strong churches are made up of strong people, depending on God, and wanting to grow, to go deeper.  To know Jesus more, and to escape the religion some are mired in.  Is it possible Jesus is the guy on the motorcycle riding back and forth in your life trying to get your attention?  Rather than call a cop, call on God, accept His offer.  Before you are too old, or been dumbed down too much.  Too much Jesus, never gonna happen.  But you have to twist the throttle of life to find out how much is available.  If you advertise yourself as a Christian we figure you are one.  Don’t let us down.  You know the time and the place.  “Do you need filling up?” You won’t leave empty-you’ll never know until you exercise your potential.  Twist the wrist of your soul today...you don’t need to go too fast in a curve to find God!  Soon you’ll have your own stories to tell.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

 

 

1-2-3-4-6-8

You may not realize it, or even care, but you are living in a four stroke world.  Sound boring?  Maybe, but inside my garage alone I have engines of 1,2,3,4, and 6 cylinders.  Add the F150 in which won’t fit, and it has 8.  All of the four stroke genus.  The RMX450 is the thumper, as we used to call them, ride one you’ll understand.  The two Bonnevilles define what a twin should be or sound like, I like the sound of a V-twin Harley too, but nothing has the cool of a Triumph.  If you have to ask, you won’t understand.  I have had Triumph triples in 675,885,800,955,1050, and 1215 cc.  And 2300cc.  Combining the torque of a twin with the power of an inline 4, they wail at speed-a song the magazines have fallen in love with-just one ride and you are hooked.  800 and 955 Tigers share space today.  The GS 1000 represents the UJM-Universal Japanese Motorcycle of the 70’s and 80’s.  Smooth, fast, and wide-and how a CB750, Z-1, and a GS can all sound different than an XJ750-same engine design-you go figure.  Who says engines have no personality.  No CBX inline sixes, or monster KZ1300, no to Benelli’s Sei.  Just Theresa’s Mustang with a V-6.  Having driven both inline and V-6, from Rambler to Mercedes Benz, I still love the sound of an old GMC V-6, the sound I remember from the housing sights being built as a kid.  The proper work motor, torque for low speed grunt.  No one ever went fast in those old trucks, well almost never.  But nothing is more American than a good old V-8, and again a Chevy 327, Ford 351, and a Mopar 318 all have their own sound.  But nothing rumbles at low speed like my old 1950 Buick straight 8.  Gentlemen, that’s torque.

I have driven 5 cylinder Audis, Acuras, and a Volvo 5 cylinder in a Land Rover.  Via ownership of Ford.  Strange.  But make it a V-10, and the roar-a sound like a jet, and you have the unmistakable sound of Walker Evans at full throttle at the Baja 1000.  I have driven multiple V-12 Mercedes Benz, with their German no-nonsense reliability, but hearing a V-12 XKE makes my knees weak.  Soul under the bonnet.  Whoa!  But give me the quiet elegance of a Packard V-12, a 1937 Dual Cowl Phaeton like my friend Tom’s, that’s class.  Maybe being only outdone by a V-16 Cadillac, second generation.  Just hearing one at idle, or cruising a car show, power under control.  The ultimate answer to what ya got under the hood?  So what do you have under the hood?  What is between your legs as you ride? 

And I almost forgot, spending time on two different Suzuki Rotaries in 1976, the 1975 space ship design, and the more modern black with gold striped 1976.  Smooth, seemingly quick, and silent.  Whirring, or purring, only a slight backfire when backing off the throttle.  And it not slowing down like a diesel.  The future that never was-and maybe shouldn’t have been.

People are the same way. Same basic internals, just different packaging.  Some tall and slender, some short and fat.  The same, only different.  With as many varieties as there are engine types.   Add red, and yellow, black, and white, and you find we are all precious in God’s sight.  He doesn’t look at the externals like we do, but he looks on the heart.  Which can be scary for some of us, but being forgiven by a loving God brings peace.  Which can cause your life to run like a fine tuned V-8, or triple.  Jesus knows us, knows all about us, yet loves us anyway-just as we are.  With no performance options needed, in whatever state we are in.  And even when confronting the woman at the well, He didn’t condemn her for all her husbands, a stonable offense, but even pointed out that #7 wasn’t even married to her.  Instead Jesus tells her “go and sin no more.”  Knowing she would, as we all would have and still do.  But He left her knowing she was forgiven, and loved.  She didn’t have to live like she was, He showed her a better way.  We are never told the outcome, maybe we need to reflect on how Jesus changed our lives.  We are forgiven, but still sin.  But His forgiveness is one and for all-every time we confess He hears it like it was the first time.  He doesn’t threaten us with “you better,” or “if you don’t get it together,” He just loves us.  Even if we are a V-8 running on only 7 cylinders.  He knows just where that miss is, and can fix it-a spiritual tune up if you will.  He loves those who are thumpers, or a V-16-He is no respecter of engine size, horsepower, cylinders, or brand.  Why can’t we be the same?  Instead of pulling up next to a cool car at the light, why can’t we nod in approval, instead of wanting to race?  Pride shows up in many forms...

Life will bring opposed twins like BMW’s into our lives, air cooled VW’s and Corvairs.  A certain kind of cool, maybe not for everybody.  And that is only the four strokes!  I almost forgot about Mach 3’s, RD400’s, and Water Buffalos-all two strokes.  Ringa ding ding to you!  For behind their banshee shriek and hidden behind the smoke and aroma of racing caster, lies a wild heart, untamed, only tamed by a careful throttle hand.  A heart like yours was once, crying out for love, only found in Jesus Christ.  He only saw the need.  From the inside, and changes us from the inside out.  So take His advice, turn to Jesus and go and sin no more.  So many engines, so many roads, get off of the road to destruction...and onto the road of life.  What’s in your heart tells us a lot about what is under your hood.  Oh the stories you’ll have to tell.  And you don’t necessarily need to have a V-8!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

motorcycles sell

Back in the sixties there was a commercial playing David Roses’s “The Stripper,” while a man shaved.  “Take it off, take it all off...” a beautiful Scandinavian looking blond cooed, quick, if you remember the commercial, what was the product?  Tick...tick...tick?  My wife used to joke it was take it off with Aqua Velva, but it was really for Noxzema Medicated Comfort Shave-shaving cream!  And it was such a hit, it was alter redone with Joe Namath and Farrah Fawcett.  Perhaps the best, or at least the most brazen use of sex in a TV commercial to date-that was the 60’s!  But sex has always sold, and continues to sell today.  Take even the most mundane product, add a scantilly clad female, you have a hit.  Turning every nerdy teen into Joe and shaving just because of Farrah.  Look at what you buy and why, you may be surprised.  And hopefully it sells the product-it did for Noxzema.  From shaving cream to air filters, to everything in between, sex adds to the ad, and sometimes is the ad.  “Get your product noticed, get them in the stores, we will do the rest” the sponsors are told, and we the people go willingly to buy, all based on the sex in the ads.  Don’t deny it, remember the Norton girls?  Ever seen a Pirelli calendar?   Sex has been the staple in a car dealers and repair shops for decades.  From St. Pauli girls to the Bud girls, they push sex, but the product is beer.  All they want to do is make you feel good about your decision... no matter how foolish the premise it was based on.  Sex was cool, it still sells, but today a new competitor has arisen.  Motorcycles.

Thanks to Hondas ads in the 60’s, Harley’s incredible marketing campaigns, and motorcycles being cool anyway, they have found their way into numerous ads.  Lucky Jeans with their nostalgic Triumph shirts, soft drinks, snacks, and other products are now finding that putting a motorcycle in their ad draws attention-and not just to motorcycle related products.  One year at Coke we offered ATC’s to raffle off Coke products, a huge increase in sales.  No data available for women.  Like the Noxzema commercial girl, we see bikes being ridden in commercials, making a statement about the product.  Having fun, enjoying life, adding some excitement to a boring existence.  Bringing out a little of the bad boy, wanting you to be part of the excitement, without being part of the scene.  And in this golden age of motorcycling, where more people are riding than ever before, cool is spreading its wings, and including all social, financial, and ethnic groups.  Who doesn’t want to be cool, and riding a motorcycle is cool.  And if you don’t, you can still wear the t-shirt, or use the product.  It is all about the image...what image are you portraying?  If you took it all off, what would we see?  What ‘s underneath your leathers?

Now that we all must face the fact we are all suckers for two wheels, a pretty face, and a sexy ad, what will we do?  What do we buy any more that is based on substance, how the product performs?  For generations families have used the same detergents as their mothers did, buy the same brand of cars as Dad, and stick with traditional brands.  But as new marketing sells us new products, are we buying the new product, or its image?  Tough question to answer honestly...

It is all about the image...the take off.

I have a pet peeve, actually many of them, but one in particular.  I detest people using the Christian fish sign I their ads.  And I find it even more foolish for people who only shop or use Christian businesses.  Just because you portray your shop as a Christian shop, does that mean Jesus works there?  Should I just trust you because you advertise it?  Yet many do, and miss out on one of scriptures most important concepts-getting out the gospel.  Many times throughout Bible history, God has caused situations to spread the gospel in hard times.  From being fruitful and multiplying to the Tower of Babel forward to going out into the world and making disciples, we are to get out among the heathens, the Gentiles, and share the love of Christ.  His message leading unto salvation.  Your chance to get out and into the world, and not be part of it.  When I worked for Coke, I got more Pepsi accounts when we would start eating at Pepsi served restaurants.  Soon our presence was felt and they would change.  We had evangelized them just by being there, and won a convert.  We never drank their Pepsi, and they respected us for it.  How many chances do we get to share Jesus by not getting out of Christian circles?  Do we go where the sick and needy are-Jesus did.  He taught in the church, but ministered in the streets.  And even tough old Peter got it, when he was shown in a dream that nothing is unclean, but that in Christ it can be made clean.  Paul ministered to the Gentiles.  So many ride today, or want to, based on the marketing using motorcycles. Sometimes I feel like I have been prostituted, our special brotherhood being abused by others, but like the gospel, the more that hear about it, will try it.  But it is our job to take it out among the heathens.

While some witness to each other, preach to the choir, others are out spreading the gospel, and getting good deals.  The best motorcycle mechanic I know isn’t a Christian, but knows I am.  The only church he’ll ever attend.  Like my sign says, “love in such a way that if someone doesn’t know God, but knows you, they can get to know God because they know you.”  Someone told you about Jesus when you weren’t saved, enough said.  The best deals are out there, let Jesus show you.  And what better product than salvation can you offer?

Someone once asked me to go for a ride and it changed my life.  Another man told me about Jesus and it changed my life.  Who knows, there may be a lot of those out there like you and me, just waiting to be asked for a ride, or a ride to church.  And you will never know if you don’t get out and find out.  Sex sells, and today motorcycles sell.  Jesus saves.  You mean you don’t ride, let me tell you about my trip last summer.  And you don’t know Jesus, let me tell you how He changed my life.  While you fix my car, cut my hair, or take my groceries out.  Someone is always listening, always watching.  A whole audience to reach you didn’t know existed.  Now you do.  Remember that next time you need help-you may be the answer to their problem, by using yours.  Only Jesus could do that.  Can you?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

buried treasure, that rose again

My friend Richard, the ultimate Parts Manager, caught flack years ago when he bought an old quanset hut house that had been used by the military in WWII, the Big One.  It in a neighborhood where houses went for high 6 figure prices, he was one block from the beach, it was an eyesore compared to the others.  Kept up, but not fitting in with the upscale neighbors, he caught flack, mostly behind his back, where the aim is better for our unkind markmanship.  But he was and is a nice guy, and lived with it, raising his family, until the market exploded 10 years ago.  Along came an offer, way above what the house was worth, and it wasn’t even for sale.  Seems a neighbor had a friend, who wanted to live by the beach, and couldn’t afford the usurous prices being charged, but being a contractor could buy a fixer upper, Richard’s, and make it into a million dollar home.  Not interested at first, Richard finally succumbed to the offer, thinking what we did, the contractor would remodel his home.  But he didn’t, he just wanted the land, and built another new home, his investment what the other homes were worth, but now valued at two times them.  He never wanted the hut, he wanted the land, and built his own home on it.  And how did Richard feel?  He now is retired, owns tow homes, both paid for with cash, and has money leftover in the bank.  Looking back, he was smarter than all of us, and patient.  And the deal worked out for all involved, the definition of a good deal being where both parties benefit.  And they did-living happily ever after. 

Of course we would have all done the same thing, if only we knew what the future was going to hold.  Even fairy tales tell us of frogs turned into princes, and beasts into beauties.  We love those stories, why wouldn't we believe in them for ourselves?  Maybe we do as so many times we buy a new set of clothes to fit in with the the trendy crowd.  People have even been known to buy Harleys to hang out with us bad guys.  How many wear Charger shirts to give the sense they are part of the team?  Do we see a theme here, how many do one thing, so that we can belong to another?  Call it the rite of initiation, or buying your way in, but too often, unlike Richard’s story do we end up with old clothes, an unused motorcycle, and changing teams?  When what we really were after was being part of something, to belong and be accepted.  Do we have to ask “is it really all about me?”  Why ask when we already know the answer.

Did you ever find something of value in a field as a kid, and wished your Dad owned the field?  But knowing it was someone else’s, you left it, not wishing to steal it and get caught, being known as a crook.  And years later going back, and it was still there, then taking it home.  And no one missed it, just an old piece of junk, in a field with junk.  One man’s junk, another man’s treasure.  That is how earth appears to many today.  Look around, crime, rape, mayor’s sexual abuse, ballplayers doing drugs, lowest opinion of Congress ever, high unemployment, and you wonder, has this entire world become a field of junk?  Why would anyone want it?  It has become exactly like the one given power over it, the devil-disgusting.  So why would Jesus come here to buy back the world?  What was He thinking>

Of us.  Not of the world, but the treasure in it-you and me.  Us.  Some buried, some visible, and some not quite discovered yet.  He bought the world, giving His life, not for the planet, but its contents-us!  He can hang out anywhere He wants, and heaven being His home invites us to come and stay.  But for now, He visits us here, not for the beauty of Yosemite, or the amber waves of grain.  He owns the purple mountains majesty-He is that majesty.  He can vacation anywhere He wants, yet He chooses here.  Why?  Because of us, His treasure.  And like any prospector, He stays until the mine is played out.  Until the last ounce of gold is mined, He will remain.  He loves us that much.  Like the man who bought Richard’s house, he wanted the treasure of it, not the house on it.  How many times have you passed up Jesus, based on the world’s claims, rather than God’s?

When you meet someone today, let the value Christ places on them reflect in your attitude.  We may not all be new 2013 rides, and the roads may not always be smooth, or even paved.  Jesus knew exactly what He was getting when He died for us, paying a price that seemed foolish to everyone, except His Father.  Based on His Father’s advice, He obeyed, and we His treasure, get the benefit.  Once again proving, you didn’t pay too much, you just bought too soon.  But in Jesus’ case, just at the right time.  20 years ago Richard’s friends made fun of him.  Look at him now.  Invest in Christ today, and when the others laugh, hang in there.  You are that valuable that He paid the price. 

If only you had known...now you do.  Where you retire is up to you.  How foolish do you look now?  It depends on how luxurious you want to live later.  Avoid earthly foreclosure.  When He gets the glory, we get the blessings.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

  

rides that make evenings enchanted

Our American Bulldog Clemenza loves to go for walks.  Just say “out front,”and she will appear, but say “walk,” and she starts to dance.  And with great energy will pull down the street, and knows what is ahead if we go left or to the right and walk the golf course.  Her nose is busy smelling out what went on since her last visit, and she walks a fast pace, excited.  But as we get to our turn around point, she slows, taking more time to sniff, and when we start back, is noticeably slower.  With the last few steps almost in suspended motion.  She knows the walk will soon be over, and even the invitation to visit Stella, her neighbor next door, only invigorates her for a minute.  And then the steps, which if you didn’t know her, you would think she is crippled.  Slowing to a stop-all because the walk has come to an end.  And even if we try to take credit for any obedience she has to us, it is us who are being trained by her, as she knows the times of day we walk, and reminds us, with no clock to go by.  And she also knows when the walk will be over, slowing down wishing to get every last second of time out of it.  She walks like we ride...with great anticipation.  Until the end of the day.

Living back east, most of our escape routes pointed us west, to the wilds of Pennsylvania, which by 4 o’clock would put the sun right in our face.  Combined with a day’s ride, tired, but still excited, we would push on, fighting fatigue, not wishing the ride to end.  But at some point one of us would be overwhelmed with a sense of common, and we would stop, have something cold to drink, maybe an early dinner, and watch the rush hour traffic as we reclined.  Re-energizing ourselves for a few more hours of daylight riding time, and to our sometimes pre-determined goal.  But on summer nights, the cool air would call, and many an evening ride would follow.  Not really going anywhere, just out for a ride, where the roads that once called for high speed, now tell us it is OK to just cruise.  And outside of the city, you can hear the wind, bullfrogs, crickets, and other sounds not heard in the day.  Less people, more hearing, or as they used to say in the eco friendly 70’s, less sound=more ground.  Sitting by a brook you might pass in the day, you find a certain peace just listening to the water.  Something about the dark makes what you can’t see more audible.  Conversation seem to be more important, and recalling the day’s ride brings about anticipation of the ride tomorrow.  After a timeless conversation, it is back on the bikes, letting your headlight determine the pace, and just like Clemenza, going slower as you know the day will end soon, and even though you don’t want it to, it must, if only to have another begin in the morning.  But it is in the still of the night, without seeing faces that the voices identify the talker, the mood is mellower, and after a day of anticipation, you can reflect.  These enchanted evenings, with no special agenda, are the perfect end to a perfect day.  And only made better when your riding partner is someone you love.  And my blessing is called Theresa.

A motel chain advertises a good night’s sleep and all the rest.  But how often do you fall asleep exhausted, only to wake up way before you need to, and can’t get back to sleep.  For me it seems my body clock is set for 3am, as I seem to wake up then, and find it a great time to spend with God.  No one else is out at that time, and except for Mr. Man moving on the bed, the home is silent.  And just like the sounds of nature are accentuated at night,  I can hear God’s voice better without any background noise.  NO interference, maybe that is what makes night rides so special, where your mind can lead, and your body follow.  And so it is with God in the wee hours, His spirit calls, you follow, and He leads you to a special place.  No hurry, no agenda, just a timeless time of peace.  No phones, TV, or radio, just you and Jesus-a precursor to the things of heaven.

Sadly these rides are not possible in a car, maybe that is why God made motorcycles.  No cruise, tilt, radio, AC, or isolated cabin.  Just you and nature-the wind in your face, and the things that God has created for you and for you to enjoy.  A look up reveals the stars in their glory, and a stop by water can be breathtaking as you watch the moonlight glisten off of it.  Light in darkness, sounds in silence, and my 3am wake up is happening at 40 mph.  And you ask why we ride?  God has created you for times like this, just you and Him.  Special time after a day spent just trying to get through it, a time when life gets between you and God, and now He has you back again-His desire.  And when it is our desire to be with Him, the rides are that much more special, but you can also spend time with God while not riding.  Just being with Jesus can’t be beat, but somehow when on two wheels, He makes it better.  No proof I can point to, take a ride tonight and see.

Some enchanted evening, you may meet a stranger...don’t go another night without meeting Jesus.  No need to be a stranger, He welcomes you.  He loves to ride, and even if you don’t, He is happy across the table, sitting at the beach, walking the dog, or even at church.  He goes where you go, the question is will you go where He goes?  Maybe those 3am talks are just what you need...or maybe that after daylight ride.  Only those who can see the invisible will hear Him too.  Walking with your Master, maybe Clemenza isn’t so dumb after all.  Maybe it isn’t the walk, but the time spent with us that makes it for her.  “Walk?”  Maybe Jesus is asking you the same thing.  And don’t hurry back, you don’t want the walk to end and miss a happy ending!  Let’s ride!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

sign the petition for Barn Fresh Day today!

Thanks to channels like the History Channel, Discovery, and others like it, we are privy to a part of history we otherwise would have missed, and not known we have missed it.  But it has also given rise to collectible prices, on items that previously no one wanted, because no one cared about.  Add E-bay, creative, yet false advertising, and the prices go up.  It seems if you paid more it must be worth more, or if it’s rare, based on claims, it must be worth more because of its rarity.  Based on that all Ramblers should be priced higher than any Chevy or Ford, fortunately we are spared that gouging yet.  But with these shows, an audience grows around them, and the people become bigger than the show, like American Pickers.  Nice guys, cool job, but I wonder how many affordable items today are priced and sold as collectibles, based on something they may or may not have said.  Rare means rare-like in a steak-raw.  Not one of 50,000, of which only 30,000 remain today.  And the reason they are rare is even more important.  3 on the tree, business sedans, with a 6 cylinder and no air-would you buy one?  Yet I see them with signs on them-rare, limited production.  It is like the basic Escort I bought with no air, radio, and not one option.  As basic as you can get-a price leader-it was rare.  Wish I had known all this when I sold it.  I also had a basic Rabbit in 1976, VW’s name for it.  Rubber everywhere, cardboard door panels, no insulation, and the skinniest tires ever put on a car.  Built to a price, dealers loaded them up-except mine, I opted for a radio.  And radials.  Both bought as basic transportation in bad weather when I couldn’t ride.  Rare-as I never saw another basic Rabbit, and like the ad said for the Escort-*1 available a this price.  I bought a classic and didn’t know it!  What was I thinking...I could be retired now....

But the word that I hear over used too much, is that OK to say, is “Barn fresh.”  As if the careful storage the owner gave it, piling old parts on it, piling trash around it, and leaving it in a building falling down was of premium concern.  In my experience, most stuff left in barns was there because that is where they died.  Worn out, over used, used up, not worth scrap, they were hauled away with other recyclables-before we recycled, and left to rust away in the bad winters, or rust when April showers invaded their safe and secure lodging.  Out of sight, out of mind, until the owner dies, and they find the car in the barn-and suddenly a barn find is found, the value goes up, and we have a new buzz word to use when bragging why we paid to much.  If I had a barn, I would have left the Escort in it, and waited 20 years-and would have been retired-better than my 401/201/all gone K.  But barn finds they are, adding perceived value, while ignoring why they were left there in the first place.  Giving the mundane their 15 minutes of fame, and the finder or owner a financial boost.  While waiting just around the corner, the Ministry of Trendy Words is anxiously anticipating dropping another slang on the eagerly waiting and deceived.  Barn fresh and farm fresh-not to be confused.

Which makes me wonder, do Christians watch these shows?  Do they know the language?  If not, why are they missing out on the greatest opportunity of all time, and not promoting Jesus as the World’s Greatest Barn find?  Farm fresh-it doesn’t get much fresher than being born in one, not left to die in one.  Imagine a sermon, today we are talking about the greatest barn find ever, and He is truly barn fresh.  Jesus Christ, and think of the ads-might even see one on Pickers...on the History Channel.  He is historical isn’t He, after all the years are AD, after Him.  Imagine Him before Pilate-“but sir He’s barn fresh!  Think of how rare He is!”  And they would be speaking the truth.  Little icons could be made for the dashboards of cars, songs written about Him, books written about Him-hey, a whole new religion based on His being barn fresh could spring up-think of the opportunities!  Wonder how that would have effected the price of His clothes the Roman soldiers drew lots for?  Imagine the price of the barn today!  Maybe Christians are missing out on this barn fresh idea.  Just a thought...

But the truth is, He is still alive, and His barn fresh beginning only tells part of the story.  We celebrate His birth on Christmas Day, maybe we should call it  Barn Fresh Day!  No more nativities, but barn fresh displays.  Even heathens get excited over barn fresh.  We can give each other gifts, sing Barn Fresh songs, send Barn Fresh cards, and ditch the whole Santa thing for a couple of farm hands, in jeans and flannel shirts.  No more Rudolph, a red neck will hang him on the wall as a trophy.  Keep the ACLU and its minions from going against Christ.  Maybe it is the venue, and it needs up dating.  After all, it is 2000 years old...so Barn Fresh it is!

But that doesn’t help with Easter, Good Friday, or all in between.  Fortunately Jesus is much more than a barn find, or an empty tomb.  He is the person of God, a very real and living person.  Even has a home in heaven.  And unlike programming issues on TV, His book, the Bible is available 24/7.  With no ads!  No commercials-you can sit and read all you want.  But the most important thing is you can communicate with Him, He is not for sale, or auction.  He is not negotiable, and still the original barn fresh find.  Born in a barn, because there was no room at the inn.  Consider the following ad text-

“One man found, barn fresh.  Able to perform miracles, heal the sick, raise from the dead.  Rare, one of a kind, completely original.  All numbers match, certification going back 2000 years.  Previously sold for 30 pieces of silver, this barn fresh opportunity for eternal life can now be had as a gift.  Lifetime opportunity, time limited.  Call XXX-XXX-XXXX.  References upon request.”

Barn Fresh Day is nearly here, the ads will be starting soon.  Don’t miss out on the opportunity of a lifetime.  Jesus Christ-the best buy you’ll ever make-and at prices you can afford.  An investment that makes any 401K look pale by comparison. Barn Fresh and ready to add value to your life today.  And about that empty tomb...included at no extra charge.  What are you waiting for?  * He’s the only one available at this price!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com