buying a new car

New car buying has come a long way from my parents shopping at Ronco Rambler, where Pat would write a number on a notepad, using a pencil, both from the pocket of his overalls.  He had probably handed them some keys, and then went back under a car, maybe even R-12, his race car.  They had taken a test drive, and being parents, were concerned about how much it would ultimately cost, and was it really any better than their old trade in.  No dickering per se, as Pat was fair, and he understood them being a young family, and probably already had a buyer for their trade in.  No pressure, go to lunch, I’ll be here to about 2, after all it was Saturday, and he closed early.  But he would stay late if needed, which my parents would never ask him to do, because he too had a family.  And so a short lunch was hastily eaten, and back they went, going to the garage and finding Pat under R-12.  They had decided to buy the new car, and a half hour later, were driving home in it.  No make ready, maybe a quick wash, no F and I man trying to sell undercoating, Polyglycoat, or extra accessories.  They took the car, and Pat advised them next time up, stop by for an oil change, no  appointment needed.  Go enjoy your new car, and they did, the buying process from 50 years ago in small town America. They had bought a Rambler Classic, but really had bought another classic, Pat. 

It has been over 11 years since we bought our last new car, really a truck.  And there was some dickering, a test drive, with the salesman along, after photocopying my license, and checking me for insurance.  They ran my credit, and when I found the one I wanted, we negotiated.  I was shown printouts, which no one really knows what they mean, and I warned them, if the F and I guy tries to sell me anything, I’ll walk.  Who greeted me promising he wouldn’t, and he didn’t.  Sale complete, except for the various phone calls, about a survey, a CSI coming in the mail, and anything less than the best was a failure.  Seems they cared more about the survey than my being happy.  And I thought of guys  like Pat, whose survey was what you would tell your friends, your family, the friends at church, or your neighbor.  “If you need a car or truck go see Cal...”the ads for Worthington Dodge sang for decades, who would stand on his head to make a deal.  Pat just needed an OK, and a handshake, after he washed his hands.  And a card with his home number, if you had any questions later when you got it home. 

The other day I was looking up a car I had passed on the freeway.  It caught my eye, and I wondered about it.  So Googling it, found prices, and Truecar.com, a buying service.  Who had pre-negotiated deals with dealers, a buying service.  So I priced one, the prices showed dealer cost, and what I could get-below dealer cost.  And then the e-mails and phone calls started, as when I registered with Truecar, the dealers go my info.  Suddenly the car buying experience wasn’t so friendly,  as they got more aggressive with each message left.  I was only looking, had no intention of buying.  I told them that, they didn’t listen.  It reminded of one time when looking at a car, the new salesgirl chastising me for not letting her complete her presentation.   After I said I was just looking.  She had lost her place and was about to start over, when I got in my car and left.  And I thought to myself, if I need a car or truck, I would go see Pat.  And started riding motorcycles more, as in every chance I could get.  And soon formed the perfect relationship with Orange County Triumph, eventually buying 14 bikes from them over the years.  Who like Pat, gave me a fair price, sometimes showing me the invoice, and when buying an Rmz450, two weeks later a pop-up, and racing shirts showed up as a thank you, part of a promotion that started after I had bought one, they just included me.  Never one request for a CSI score, there wouldn’t be a high enough score for them.  I dealt with Nate, and Mike, Todd, and Fabian...just like my parents had dealt with Pat.  Sadly they are gone, and although I know many friends who sell new bikes, I will go to Mickey when ready, who will make a call, and the deal will be set.  We will have discussed what I want, and what I should pay, and the deal will be done.  Dealing with a guy who has dirt under his fingernails, probably crawling out from under a race car, and the beat goes on.

I watch as people evangelize today.  They are told to go out and witness, rarely told to be a witness.  Turn on Jesus, and tell the world about Him.  Invite people to church, don’t get involved one to one.  Pass out tracts, and then go home after arguing with someone, who isn’t saved, but knows more Bible than you, feeling disappointed and beaten.  Having done what you were told, just not what the Bible tells you to do.  And repeat next week, and as the crowd gets smaller, hopefully get tuned into God, and be a witness, letting your life show Christ in it.  Sharing the Lord should not be like buying a car or even a motorcycle.  You don’t shop for the best deal.  Yet many church hop, until finding one they like, where they fit in.  A friendly church, where they aren’t pressured, or encouraged to read the Bible, pray, or even come to Christ.  Feel good about your God, He loves you, and never would say ask you to do anything you don’t want to do.  And excuse me while I puke, for this is not the way God wants it, planned it, or ordains it.  When you come to Christ, you change, God doesn’t.  You realize you are a sinner, and need Jesus.  You may seek prayer, ask questions, and be invited back.  You are asked to pick up your cross, and follow Jesus.  And when you do, your testimony, and your witness help lead others to Christ.  It isn’t the tracts, the street witnessing, or the church attendance that does it, the Holy Spirit has touched your heart, and you need answers, and Jesus is the answer.  No pressure, although it is the most important decision you will ever make.  And all the things that turned you off about religion are not present with Jesus.  It is personal, you are dealing with a person, and they are there when needed.  To guide, to answer question, to encourage, and to pray.  To stand with you, maybe getting down in the dirt with you, under a car, or alongside the road when riding.  One to one, the way Jesus planned it, no buying process, or set way.  And it can happen anywhere, it doesn’t have to be in church.  When you come to Jesus, you find you are the church, the body of believers.  And you want to tell your friends about Jesus, but soon find out that the same way you came to Him, they must too.  By the spirit.  No amount of excitement or arguing will change them, only Jesus can change the heart.  Like He did yours.

Car buying has become a chore, don’t let your evangelism become one.  Be yourself in Christ, let your light shine.  People will notice, and then share how Jesus changed your life.  I still have a problem when someone comes up to me and because I don’t fit the church mold, starts to witness to me, telling me how I need Jesus.  Asking me if I have heard of Him, “yes, for many years now.”  And then pressing a tract in my hand, like a business card.  Some day I just might follow up and call, curiosity. Well meaning, just lousy execution.  Just be yourself in Christ.  We all need friends, and Jesus is our friend, what of that don’t you get?  Coming to Christ shouldn’t be like buying a car, no CSI scores in heaven, pass/fail.  Pass you’re there, fail you’re not.

As you go, share the gospel, and use words when needed.  Goodness and kindness are fruits of the spirit, not arguing or fighting.  When is the last time you listened to the words of someone lost, before launching into your preplanned gospel?  Show me love, that is what we all want.  Only found in Jesus.  Let the spirit guide you into all understanding, it is His job.  Today is the day of salvation, let it be yours, or be an encouragement to others.  No salesman will call, let the spirit do that.  He once called you....or has it been so long you forgot? 

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

 

can you hear me now?

It was all over in an instant, but the damage would be permanent.  I was sitting at a railroad crossing, when the lady slid on the ice into me while driving my Coke truck.  Minor fender bender, but my head hit the back glass in the truck, causing my ears to ring forever.  Tinnitus it is called, and the damage done in that split second will last forever.  The audiologist told me my hearing was equivalent to someone who worked in a loud factory for 40 years-I was only 32 at the time.  And so many things I don’t hear, and rather than learn sign language, again advised, I listen for phrases instead of words, and have to have you repeat things so I can hear them.  No silence for me either, and on quiet nights the ringing is loudest.  Specialists tell me that no one has ever gone crazy from it, they never had it obviously.

Our world is filled with background noise, sounds that we don’t hear but we hear all the time anyway.  From traffic, to neighbors, to factories, to the buzzing going through overhead wires, it is always there.  But last weekend while riding away from the city, my bike sounded different.  I could hear the exhaust clearer, I could hear the valves in the motor, and even the tires along the road as I went into the curves hard.  Sounds that are there every day, but cannot be heard over the din of life.  Cool sounds that when combined with urban noise and my tinnitus are blocked from me everyday.  Sounds that warn of fun or danger, sounds that ask “can you hear me now?”  Sounds I wish I could answer yes to.

A few years ago I did the sound for the movie SALT.  The sound you hear of Angelina Jolie riding the Street Triple R is me.  I did over 100 passes at over 100 mph, and got paid for it.  Fun like you can only imagine, but we had to go in the middle of nowhere outside of Lancaster to do it.  The bike was miked up, and you could hear every little sound the engine made, sounds the mikes heard, but you don’t.  We heard brake noises that it took a while to identify, and noises I had never heard before.  Suspension creaks, tire noise-sounds that wouldn’t play well in the movie.  Even the stationary mikes were sensitive, at a half mile away they could hear me idling!  But the fun runs were riding at the soundman at over 100mph in 4th, 5th, and 6th-then pulling away from him.  Sounds that when we ate dinner that night and listened to them in the headphones, made you lean with the sound.  The best one having the sound engineer burst out, “man you’ll be in the theater, and hear that sound, and the audience will go OOOHHH!  And you’ll say ‘that was me!’”  Did I mention I got paid for this?  Let’s just say the ride home was a bit boring, hear me on You tube, SALT, I’m at about 1:41 into the movie.  And we all got it right, for the sound even matches the speed of the bike she is riding.  I never met Angelina, but I do own a Street Triple, one of my favorite bikes, and one the cycle mags love too.  But for that one afternoon...

So through all the noise, there are sounds out there just waiting to be heard and enjoyed.  But life drowns them out, or we turn them off.  Sounds we don’t want to hear, sounds that can be annoying to the audience, sounds that come in the form of a sentence, in a question that demands an answer.  And ignoring them, saying nothing is an answer.  Two men hang on crosses, with Jesus in between them.  A short conversation between the three is recorded in the gospels, one heard the message, one denied it.  Just like us, sinners who need forgiveness, some hear the spirit crying out to us “you need Jesus, you need Jesus.”  Some will answer the call and see heaven, some will deny the call altogether, or flat deny Jesus and see hell.  Death, all over in an instant, but damage that will be permanent.  What is your answer, what will your answer be?  Can you hear me now?

When God put on my heart years ago to go into ministry, He gave me Matthew 25, look it up.  Read the part about feeding the hungry, visiting those in prison...that one.  And Matthew 25 Biker Ministries, or M25B was born.  And as a birthday gift, my son designed a simple logo based on the skull and crossbones, similar to the logo on the back of the jackets on the BRMC in The Wild One.  As simple logo that speaks volumes, and share the gospel.  The skull represents Gologtha, the place of the skull, where Jesus was crucified.  A cross on its forehead, representing Jesus. The crossbones underneath are crosses, one for each thief on the cross.  One thief accepted Jesus, the closest to death he would ever come.  The other denied Jesus, the closest to heaven he would ever come.  Which do you associate with?  You have just heard the gospel, simple huh?  We will all have to answer some day, which thief got it right?  A simple logo, yet it demands an answer.  Can you hear me now?

The message of the gospel can be heard above and beyond any other sound out there.  You may have been hearing it, maybe even ignoring it, even knowing what it was.  Today is the day to pick up your cross, and follow Jesus.  We are all sinners who need a savior, and His last miracle was on the cross, giving life to a condemned man.  Don’t be deaf to Jesus, like I am to certain sounds.  Get out and get away, The Way, find a place to spend with Him, and listen.  He didn’t say “he who has a mouth  let him speak, “ He told us “he who has an ear let him hear.”  We can control our mouth, we cannot control our hearing.  His question demands an answer, and saying nothing is saying no.  In one split second I lost my hearing.  An unforeseen accident, not a big one, but a costly one.  Not all problems show, but Jesus sees them all.  To some He gave hearing, to some eyesight, to some the ability to walk.  But to all He offers eternal life.  That still small voice is calling you, can you hear Him now?  Jesus-the sweetest sound you’ll ever hear.  HUH? is not an answer.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

 

   

                                                                                                                                       

hey good lookin', are you lookin' good?

As any biker knows, where your eyes go, your ride will follow.  I know of men who have ended up in ditches off the highway, just because they looked over their shoulder thinking they saw something.  On my one and only trip riding without a helmet, I was in Ontario, when I thought I saw someone I recognized, foolish thought as I lived in Albuquerque, and my glasses blew off.  My prescription glasses, and I could see OK, but not like when I wore them.  So quickly panicking, I needed eye protection now, I could still see to navigate, I went into a Sears store, to buy sunglasses.  Failing to notice how my hair was sticking up from the wind, remember this was the perfect hair days of the disco era, not like today where no one would notice, and I got some weird looks.  At least I think it was my hair.  But in my case, my eyes had truly followed where I was looking, fortunately it was only my glasses, and I had another pair at home, only 800 miles away.  Lesson learned, not only about glasses, but about riding long distances without a helmet.  I couldn’t hear for days, which was probably looing back funny when I went to buy the glasses.  She had to shout so I could hear, drawing even more attention to us...boy was she embarrassed!

Talk to anyone who rides, and you will find that riding a motorcycle has made them a better car driver.  We constantly are scanning, looking ahead, and in our mirrors, planning escape routes.  We see things because we are looking, and unlike those who aren’t, avoid accidents.  The blue haired old lady in the Buick who looks right at you, then pulls out anyway into your path the exception.  But there again proving where her eyes looked, she went.  She just didn’t see.  But yet we set our sights on things on high, and follow the horizon to see what’s ahead, without ever considering what lies behind or may be gaining on us.  Few know how to or even use their mirrors, and I once was told by a Harley rider, helmetless, that mirrors were for hanging helmets on, which made me think, “how would he know?”  And one look at him, assured me he needed to spend more time in front of the mirror, and that helmet laws also protect those of us who have to look at guys like him.  But using mirrors to guide can help, as you never know who may be gaining on you, and mirrors are the number one place that flashing lights from police cars come from.  So are you more concerned about lookin’ good, or in lookin’ good?  Maybe that old quote about the lead dog is true, the view never changes for those who follow.  But to the leader, I just hope he is lookin’, good.

“Keep your eye on the ball,” all golfers have heard too many times.  And how many air swings have we all committed looking up to see where the ball was going before we even hit it?  It seems we are more concerned about where we hope it goes, as opposed to making it go.  Via contact.  So in a different light we see riding as different from golfing-one boring and looking ahead to what we have missed, the other exciting, and looking ahead to the next curve.  We enjoy the ride, looking ahead, unless you look back and lose your glasses...And no I don’t play golf, it has been decades.  Made me a better rider, ducking golf balls when riding by a range, a driving range!  I rather go for a ride than be taken for one.

So why do we look to the finite when we are looking for an infinite God?  Just doesn’t make any sense to me.  Think about it, men who seek the God of the universe through science, who rather experiment than find.  Who postulate rather than experience the living God.  Great and not so great musicians who try to find God in their music, ending up in search of the lost chord.  Novelists hoping for the right words to describe God to others, and fall short.  How do you describe an infinite God in finite terms?  Like or as, He isn’t.  We are.  Like sheep who have all gone astray.  God doesn’t stray, we have, God wasn’t looking for us, we are looking for Him-He isn’t lost, we are.  And so we inevitably fall short, looking for what we hope to see in finite terms, when we should be seeking God in spiritual terms.  On His level.

But fortunately He sent Jesus to lead us to Him.  To bridge the gap of finite and infinite.  He became a mortal to bring us immortality.  He became a man, because we could never be a god.  There already was and is one.  So what are you looking for from God?  Wealth, power, riches?  Or are you looking for the things of God, love, joy, and peace?  Is God a genie in your lamp, who you ask for wishes, and when He doesn’t perform as you demand, do you get another lamp?  Where do you turn in times of trouble?  Your bike, car, bank account, your i-pod, or a rich relative?  Again where your eyes go, you will follow.  And the path may not be one you wish to go down.  And one you don’t have to.

Maybe the answer is in drugs, finding God why in an enlightened state of decay?  Are you looking for the high, and when you find it, what happens when you come down?  What do you look for then?  Maybe that something is really a someone, His name is Jesus.  And He is available now to all who seek Him.  He comes down to our level, and brings us up to His, not bringing Him down to ours.  For what customer tells the cook how to cook, or what rider tells the mechanic how to fix his ride?  Yet we have no problem telling God, our creator how to do things for us.  And heaven help Him when He doesn’t, thankfully heaven helps us. 

Now creature comforts, motorcycles, good food, and nice things are OK in their right.  But only Jesus saves, as promised.  Technology will not get you to heaven.  Nor will 150 hp at the rear wheel.  Music may brighten the mood, but what happens when the song ends?  The road ahead may seem clear, but what happens when something else catches your attention, and you lose your sight or your glasses by looking back?  What happens when you aim at the Bots dots in the road, you don’t miss them, you hit them.  So set your sights on things on high, just like the Bible says.  Look to God, not His creations.  Seek and find, you will not be disappointed.  But keep in mind, where you are looking will be where you go.  You may be good lookin’, but are you lookin’ good?

Make peace with your maker today, no one has ever fought God and won.  Don’t argue with Him, His terms are not negotiable.  They are infinitely finite.  And seek a Moses experience, where you get so close to God that there are no words to describe Him.  How you describe an infinite God tells us how you picture Him.  I see an empty cross, and His scarred hands.  I see my savior, Jesus.  I cannot think of a better argument for eternal life.  He won, the cross is empty.  So is the tomb.  Where your eyes go, you will follow.  Keep your eyes on Jesus.  Lookin’ good never looked so good.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

33 will set you free

Having a son living in LA gives me a place to satay, and a head start on riding north and into the mountains above LA.  For only a brief hour out of the city, it changes for the good, and for those of us who ride, that is a good thing.  Starting out of Moorpark, take the seldom used back roads into Santa Paula, warming up on the gentle curves.  Then one of my favorites, SR 150 to Ojai, 15 miles of curves that will make you want for more, but even there civilization is creeping in, and it can be crowded on weekends.  Then at Ojai, you have  decision to make, either riding up past Casitas Lake, or SR 33, over the mountain.  Today’s ride was to be the latter, and with great weather, there were so many bikes out we dominated the road.  Almost like the cars all stayed home where they belonged.  Riding the Tiger 955 with Theresa packing double, we were ready, and as we passed dozens of bikes parked at the local hangouts, we kept on, hoping for more open road ahead.  Now I had settled into the Zone, almost like riding on auto pilot, and was using all the Michelin the bike had to offer, when I heard something coming up on me-an Aprilia, laid over and flying by on my left, fuel tuck, and leaning farther than me.  Which only made me go faster, but also got me in the habit of looking in the mirror, as Ducatis, Buells, Triumphs, and NInjas, CBR’s, and FZR’s kept blowing by-and I am not riding slow.  But the farther we rode, the total absence of cars was evident, and I thought I was doing pretty good, until 3 BMW’s blew by, leading was a new GS1200, followed by a K1600GT, with bags, and then another older GS.  These guys were cooking, and a new respect for German bikes and their riders overcame me.  And as my riding skills became more challenged, I fell back on the fact that I was probably the only one riding with a plastic aorta, and my mind was completely emptied of all stress, despite the aggressive riding,  33 had set me free, and I was loving it!

And as I rode, I noticed groups of riders, marking their spot for a ride back down the mountain.  Talking on the side of the road, conversations I had been part of many times before, talking of the road, and lunch when we get back.  But today was all about the road.  A ride many had taken before, which may explain so many high performance bikes I see with worn tires and low miles.  Some were racing up and back a 20 mile stretch, some stretching it to 30, or 40, then back.  Serious rides for serious riders, on a road that twists, turns, and gains elevation to over 5000 feet.  Maybe one of the best days ever riding in over 40 years!  But since we were out for a ride, and we ride loops, never coming back the same way we came, we took a right on Lockwood Valley Road.  In the past I have gone down the hill, an over 20 mile straightaway that once was rumored to be where Honda tested their bikes for top speed, myself once passing a CHP car parked on the side of the road at over 130 mph.  He never looked up, maybe 130 never gets his attention there any more, but we never slowed either, and he never gave chase.  Where are cops like that when you need them?  So after riding for over 45 minutes of mostly car free roads, with no cops present, we turned to the east and aimed for I-5 and civilization, a great continuing road, and passed only 4 cars in the first 16 miles, then a group of Harley riders, riding more aggressively than most I have seen, these roads just bring the speed out in you.  Great examples of why God made motorcycles, and why maybe on the 8th day He made roads.  He knew we would ride someday, and until that time, we needed to get around anyway, so He blessed us with roads like this.  Kept cars from them, and invented smooth pavement, banked corners, and views of the roads from above like those seen only in the Alps.  All within a 90 minute ride of Los Angeles.  Just far enough to keep the trendy from invading, who wouldn’t get it anyway.

So off Lockwood Valley Road, into Frazier Park, across the 5 to Pine Valley Road, then Elizabeth Lake Road, to Bouquet Canyon Road, then finally the San Fernando Valley.  All in an afternoon away from people who don’t ride.  A day to be remembered when bench racing for years to come.  And being blessed knowing there are others out there that ride faster, better, and can use all the motorcycle that they can.  It made me feel proud to be a part of them, and I can’t wait for a Street Triple so I can return and ride faster.  33 will set you free, but speed and riding will become an addiction.  With only one cure....and I had found the cure.  On a road described as “not for the faint of heart.”  A road for the experienced only.  If only they knew...

• I agree with the review, I would like to add some cautions. This road is prone to contamination from rock slides and dirt/sand. There are a few corners that are not marked or read well, and are on crowns and/or are increasing radius turns. Not for the faint of heart, otherwise this road is indeed one of the best in Central. - Michael Jordan (4/13/09)
• First off I would like to say that this road has extremely fast sweepers and slow twisties. The whole road is a scenic view with a couple of fire stations along the way. If you are coming from the Ojai side, you will pass the (Deer Lodge) restaurant on your left just as you are leaving town. They have great food and always a lot of bikes to check out. A few more miles out of town you will run into a series of tunnels, the first one sometimes has water flowing across the road. Once you are past all of that, you will come upon a little store on the right that has a (opening soon) sign with some shade and a couple of picnic tables to rest on. A few miles down the road is a fire station that has a water fountain for drinking if you are parched. Great road for an all day ride! Happy Trails. - Derrick Avery (12/1/08)

Now roads are nothing new to God.  When He and Adam walked through the Garden of Eden, it was probably on paths, the first form of roads.  And when the population grew, He added roads so they could get form one place to another.  We even find Jesus entering into Jerusalem on a road, and the good Samaritan aids the beaten traveler on a road.  Roads are mentioned 85 times in the Bible, turns over 40, so God is familiar with roads, and He knows the one you are on.  He talks about straight and narrow, too far left you go into oncoming traffic, too far right you are off the road.  God loves to  ride!  But he also speaks of a special road, one just for us..

A highway shall be there, and a road, And it shall be called the Highway of Holiness.The unclean shall not pass over it,But it shall be for others.Whoever walks the road, although a fool,Shall not go astray.  Isaiah 35:8.

So we are all on some road somewhere.  And along the way we will meet people, and go astray.  It will take Jesus to get us back on the road we need to be on.  But will you recognize the signs, or will you continue on, until the road ends, abruptly?  There is still time to turn to Jesus today.  He rides, and He is the best road you will ever ride.  He created the mountains, the valleys, and the views of and from them.  He is power when needed, and a place to rest and take in the sights.  And when walking His road, or riding it, you will not go astray.  It even has a name, the Holy Road. His promise.  Your choice, just how good a rider are you?

That perfect ride you are looking for is found only in Jesus.  33 may set you free, only He will set you free indeed.  A walk unlike a road that is not for the faint of heart, He welcomes all, and when your heart is weak, will guide you.  I know, my heart was weak, beyond repair, and He saved me-twice.  I now carry the scar...

Enough said, let’s go riding.  Remember whatever road you are on, Jesus is there with you.  And will guide you back when you stray, and urge you one when needed.  He knows what lies beyond the next curve...all His corners are marked well.  Straight and narrow in the curves, only possible with a loving God.  Who are you riding with will tell more about your ride than any bench racing session.  Get all you can from life, on or off the road in Jesus.  And leave the cages at home, where they belong.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

 

a week spent in Riverside one night

Mention Riverside, and to many visions of the 60 and the 215 are embedded in their memory vaults.  Add the 91, and you wonder why would anyone want to go to Riverside?  But get off the freeways, and Riverside has the Mission Inn, simple Simon’s for lunch, Fairmount Park, and a neat old Old Town, with great neighborhoods and houses.  All things you must get off the highway to see, and will change your attitude about Riverside.  But a few years back, when I spent a week in Riverside one night, my opinion was to be jaundiced for years.

The week had started out planning to go to a Seasons of Refreshing for CMA, and we were looking forward to it.  And it was to be some firsts for Theresa, as he would ride her own bike for the first time in the dark, and do her first lane splitting.  She would ride with Dick, and I would join her at the Friday night events leaving San Diego after work.  Good plan, and she and Dick upheld their end of it.  But my ride was to be more interesting, as 40 miles out I got a flat on my Bonneville.  Calling Andrew, he and his girlfriend loaded my Sprint RS in the truck, and brought it up, and I did a bike swap.  You see, there really is a good reason to own multiple bikes!  And I was off, missing dinner, Theresa, and the first night events.  Thanks to Linda, a local, for getting Theresa to our room, where I caught up with her much later.   What a start, and the week was only beginning...

Earlier in the week, I had been called and then called to a motorcycle ministry based in San Berdoo, who had just lost a member.  Joker died, and his funeral was to be that Saturday, the same Saturday as Seasons, and I was going to attend.  Missing again another session.  But being called to minister, as opposed to being called to sit in auditoriums on nice days, I went, and hooked up with Peter, editor of Wheels of Grace magazine.  After the service in Highland, we were eating and visiting, when news came in that another member had just gone down, hit on his trike at an intersection.  As two of his club members took off, Peter and I followed, or really chased.  Learning that adrenalin is no match for horsepower in some situations of the heart.  And chasing them down back streets in San Berdoo, I managed to keep the in sight, with Peter giving case.  This trip of former escape routes finally led us to a hospital where they might be, but gaining entrance was difficult to this war zone hospital.  Finally getting in, and being forced to leave, we found them not there.  No report of any biker down.  And when we mentioned his passenger was his 14 year old grand daughter, they recommended Children’s Hospital in Loma Linda, who has a great trauma center.  Stopping to pray-almost forcing these two club members, we went to Loma Linda, and in the back door, through ER.  No mention of them, are you family?  So not giving in, I went around the front, and into the waiting room, where many friends and family were gathered-just not theirs.  But two women recognized Christian biker colors, and greeted me.  Alone by now, the others had gone off in search, I was able to spend time with them, pray and minister.  They knew who I was, as news of visiting Joker’s widow and family had reached them, surprised that another ministry would reach out to them.  I hope they were learning this while I was out on the streets.  And I was to meet them again the next week when visiting with Dick.  Another story in itself.  But back to Seasons...

Where I arrived just in time to hear the last 20 minutes.  My adrenalin still racing, I heard nothing, but afterwards we were invited to eat with the CMA Nationals, who wanted to hear of my day.  But first I must digress, to that morning.  In the Courtyard by Marriott. Where Theresa and I had spent the night.  We had missed each other, and as she told of trying to keep up with Dick in traffic, her first lane splitting, we laughed about my trials, and what else could happen.  So after a good night’s sleep, we awoke to no shower-broken.  Calling the front desk, they graciously gave us another room, to shower in.  It seems they knew they had a problem, just not sure what room.  And after careful arbitration, just before it became heated, they gave us the night for free.  As they should have, and it was off to Seasons.  And for me the funeral.  And all seemed right with the world after a hot shower, a flat tire, and missing Friday night.  Of course that afternoon still loomed ahead, what else could happen?  Was it really just an evening, or a few days as it really seemed?

Dinner was to be at BJ’s Brewhouse, sans the brew.  And a steak was in order, I was hungry, tired, wired, and wanting to visit.  Next to me, there were 7 at the table, was a man who introduced himself s Merle, from Mississippi.  He had ridden out with Kerry from Arkansas, and they were enjoying the warm spring weather, it was cold back home.  Now Merle, as he called himself was funny, and a joker.  We made Arkansas jokes, Lakeside jokes, and Ramona jokes.  But after a half hour, they wore thin, I was starved, and waiting to eat.  And then it came, a great big steak, covered by CMA, and as I prayed I was truly thankful.  And then Merle ended up in my lap.  Funny at first, the next few times were annoying, and finally I had had enough, and pushed him away hard, which caused him to fall forward into his mashed potatoes.  He wasn’t joking, he was passed out!  But woke up, and was OK, but when told of how he had been doing this for a week while riding, they took him to an ER, and he was in the hospital for a week, and forbidden to ride.  He was narcoleptic, and could fall asleep any time, any where, just not knowing if or when or where.  No more riding, he was sick.  And suddenly the whole weekend wasn’t so funny.  Flat tires, accidents, no showers, and now this.  Maybe I had spent a night I Riverside but didn’t know it?

Maybe you are having a Riverside experience right now, or have in the past.  You will.  Be assured, God is with you.  Jesus doesn’t and won’t abandon you.  And in them, I find I get closer to Him, as I spend more time in prayer, I need Him more.  No surprises for Him that weekend, but there was for us.  And we learned to minister on the run much more effectively than in any session.  You can’t teach experience, and no one wants problems to come, but we need to know where to turn when they do.  And lean on Jesus, rather than our own understanding.  It is good to know about God, but it better to now God.  And situations will be provided for you to get closer to Him, to let Him be God, and show you mercy and grace.  Even after flat tires, no showers, chasing bikers through town, and having a man fall on lap...just when the meal was to begin.  A series of interruptions, but to God planned for us to see Him in all His grace.  And we did...and I just hope the next time is less eventful.

For after that, even the 91 looked good, the 215 moved, and the 60 was only a short ride.  Merle would recover, and ride again, but no Seasons would ever give me more refreshing in Christ than this one.  Seeing God in the situation, and trusting Him. Sometimes being drug ahead kicking and screaming, but for our own good.  That’s the God of love I know, and who works all things out for my good.  Just one night, or just one week, better is one day in His courts than thousands elsewhere.  And as for Merle, his name really wasn’t Merle, and I still don’t know his name.  Only in Riverside....

love with compassion,

Mike

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