close encounters

As a biker, when riding I am always scanning ahead, behind, and to both sides of me, planning escape routes if needed.  Last Wednesday I am cruising down I-15, staying with traffic at 80, when a black car, a CLS 500, appears in my mirrors, coming up fast.  I am in the far left lane, with nowhere to go, and as he comes up, swerves across three lanes, his active body control barely keeping his wheels planted, he must be going at lest 100 mph.  Then cuts back across barely missing minivans, SUV’s and other smaller vehicles.  Not uncommon on the freeways, but this happened right in front of a CHP motor officer on the side of the road.  Who did nothing.  Maybe he was deterred by the two minivans between he and I, both soccer moms on their cell phones.  Three tickets, or accidents ready to happen.  Jon and Ponch would never have let this happen on their beat.  And how many times would you, or have you been busted for lesser offenses?

Over the years I have had many close encounters with the law, while riding or driving.  I once was ticketed in Illinois in the middle of a cornfield for 60 in a 55 on my 650 Nighthawk, the sheriff bragged I was the first ticket in his new patrol car, I just thought he was a jerk.  No one in sight, no cars passed while pulled over, a true threat to other motorists.  Riding across US 60 near Cherokee, Oklahoma, we were stopped on my Tiger doing 85, but was written for only 65.  Why would you trust someone in a uniform who lied, even if it was to give you a break?  A real break would be no ticket.  But just a few miles up the road, we stopped and ate BBQ, and when paying mentioned to the cashier about our ticket.  She asked for his name, all I remembered was he was very young, and she knew him.  “No more free meals for him if he’s going to be ticketing my customers,”  maybe the most expensive ticket he ever wrote.  And I‘ll bet she reminded him every time he came in hungry!  Justice in a strange sort of way.  But my first ticket was for failure to stay right.  I was only 17, driving my Pinto with brains and Eddie, late at night going down 202 near Flemington. No cars in sight for miles, when the lights came on, my first encounter with the law since being lawfully licensed.  Seems I had been followed for 10-12 miles, and would switch lanes when there was no traffic, left lane only for passing.  So I got a ticket!  Hurt, cheesed off, and pride bruised, we turned around taking I-78 home.  Which was new at the time, only partially open, and no traffic.  When we came upon a car on the side of the road, a couple dressed formally waving.  They had run out of gas, so we gave them a ride to the nearest station-staying to the right.  Then brought them back, gas can in hand.  It took over an hour.  And the man tried to give me $20, which would have covered the ticket, this being 1971.  But I refused it, we were doing what our parents had taught us, to help others in need, no reward needed for just doing the right thing.  And I wonder, where was that cop when they needed him?  Maybe wasting all our time stopping three teens not doing anything wrong.  Both our characters showed that night.

Now if you watch enough flying saucer shows, you know they never land at the Super Bowl at half time, only in remote areas.  These close encounters always seem isolated, few witnesses, and few who believe the story afterwards.  But like we all know, once cited, it stays on your record, another reason for insurance companies to raise you rates.  Some myth about them dropping off I heard once, but have never seen.  But close encounters are nothing new, as even two thieves on the cross came face to face with Jesus, one having his sins forgiven, the other denying the offer of clemency called salvation.  It is written that God keeps no record of our sins, they are as far as the east is from the west-the two never meet.  And our records are purged clean, no sins recorded, nor remembered to those who are in Christ.  As if they had never happened.  Yet we know they have, and although they are forgiven and forgotten by God, why do we still remember some of them?  Why aren’t our memories wiped clean like God’s?  Maybe we need to look to the cross, and remember the battle Jesus won there.  Nails in his hands, and feet, scars He will bear forever reminding us of the battle He won, and how He conquered sin for us.  But we see His scars, why do we need to see the scars in our memory if we are forgiven?  Perhaps it is because we forget, we forget what sins Jesus forgave of ours, and from time to time need to be reminded of that.  “Oh, yeah, I forgot, thanks Jesus.  It may have only been a small sin, but all sin is great before God.”  Or maybe it is a big one, and you need that memory fresh to keep you looking to the cross.  Whatever the reason, Jesus knows, and it all works for His glory, and our blessing.  Even that speeding car that almost hit you, and you wanted revenge on...Jesus reminds us so we can seek forgiveness.  Not that we are unforgiven, but that so the words of our mouth that reflect what is on our hearts show His mercy, and our humility.  So as we always carry about in our body the dying of Christ,  we are reminded of what it took to be forgiven.  And that he keeps it personal.

I am reminded of being stopped while riding with Rex, coming out of Saguache on the only straight road in Colorado.  He got a ticket, I didn’t, the CSP officer explaining he “got your friend on radar, but didn’t have time to reset it and track me.”  Both riding the same speed, one was cited, the other forgiven.  A just cop, playing by the rules.  The same rules he and us would like to be judged by.  And so we find ourselves at the cross again, two thieves.  One accepting forgiveness, one rejecting it.  One facing death forgiven, the other facing judgment.  Which we will all face someday.  Aren’t you glad you have a wonderful counselor?  One who took the burden?  Who will represent you in the final court, where you will be found not guilty, by association with Him?  One thief didn’t get it, but both had a choice. 

The officer in Oklahoma made a bad choice, and it cost him some free food.  And some ridicule, I’m sure.  Mercy works both ways, for as you judge others, you too shall be judged.  Show some restraint and mercy to others today, some compassion.  Put down the stones, for none of us is without sin.  But it can be forgiven, without traffic school, or going to court.  At the cross, on the side of the road, or while riding, it is always better to be forgiven.  Close encounters don’t always happen in the open, but the close encounters with God happen in the heart.  What you say about Jesus in public will tell a lot about an close encounter you may have with Him.  The closest encounter you will ever need.  Do you believe?  Do you want to?  Where will your next close encounter be?  You may only be written for 65, when you were going 85, you still pay.  Aren’t you glad you have a judge who sees and knows all?  Who doesn’t fudge when it comes to truth?  Character counts-on earth as it is in heaven.  Ride safe....lest we forget.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

so...what's new?

What a great opening line, huh?  “What’s new?”  Original too.  But what if when you asked, what if I really told you, what if you really hadn’t meant to ask?  And what if you really had to listen to me?  Let’s change the subject.  Or curious?  Well, for all who have asked, here’s what’s new this week. Remember, you asked.

Saturday-After riding to Torrance,we had a birthday lunch courtesy of King’s Hawaiian for me.  We sat next to a man and his son, who through the whole meal never talked to each other, the 7 year old with headphones on and i-pad, his father on his i-phone.  When they got up to leave, he talked to Theresa more than he had to his son.  The night before the 22 year old had killed six at UCSB, I wonder did he and his father talk?  Or social network?  Too late now for him and six other sets of parents to know.  Hug your i-pad kids, warm, just not fuzzy.  Also survey tells us that 90% of medical advice on line is wrong.  Seven people dead, can you here me now?

Sunday-Great old car show at Fallbrook, then lunch.  Where we found the Bonneville leaking-rare leak, shift shaft seal.  So stopping at Temecula Motorsports, I asked to borrow a screwdriver, funnel, and rag from service writer to top off the oil.  Who sent a tech with it. Who later lent us a ramp and helped us load it into the truck. When in need, call a biker, I always say.  All for free, at a non-Triumph store.

Monday we rested.  23 months since my open heart surgery. Thought of the VA reports, and how I have been telling people for years about the horrible conditions.  Sad it takes politics to get attention.  Thaks to all  who serve, who served, and their families...

Tuesday-After the truck quit running and we were rescued on the way to Dustin Arms, I taught.  After having to referee a fight between two people.  One cussing the whole time, in between thanking me for giving him a pair of gloves he needed.  Teaching on loving the sinner, hating the sin.  Then praying-one needed foot surgery, she can’t walk, one is 28 with no wife, no job,all alone, and a 4 month old baby, the other just got a restraining order against her husband.  Later counseled with a girl who has 4 kids, by 4 different husbands, and is dating a man who she just found out is married.  Blank looks when I asked if when God answered and they didn’t like the answer, would they still trust God?

Wednesday-Volunteered at The Pantry, where we give out clothes, counsel, and pray with homeless and down and out people.  50-100 people in 2 1/2 hours.  We try to be an encouragement to them.  Prayed with one gang member who was in tears when we were done, all he wants is to be happy.  Now he knows at least one person cares, showing him the compassion of Christ.  Later a man dressed as Superman came in cape and all, not a costume, he needed boots, we were out.  Probably in his fifties, his wife got some clothes and they left.  He got a shirt, probably for his Clark Kent side.  Later helped a girl, who was looking at men’s pants, when I pointed her to the woman’s pants, she told me “I only wear men’s, I am transgendering.”  I told her it was OK, many guys grab women’s pants, just bigger in the seat, she gave me a look and left.  Later in church that night Evan Wickham led worship, so neat to see him and his dad John, our worship pastor play together.  “Bless the Lord all my soul” brought back precious memories of how God saved me when I had my heart problem.  Has it really been almost 2 years?

Thursday-Wrong book arrived I ordered online for Theresa’s Bible study. Seems they ran out, so went to back up supplier who sent a used one.  They offered me a 50% discount for something I didn’t order and didn’t want, how nice.  We got it taken care of, and the right one is coming from Calvary Chapel Albuquerque, who I should have called in the first place.  Got all my money back too.  Volunteered again, couple that were to open no showed, and over 30 crowded the alley.  It is the end of the month, and money if any is gone.  Needs are greater then, as the booze or drugs have worn off, and reality is much harsher when sober.  When someone came by to drop off clothes, he told me to be tough.  I told him I rather err on the side of grace, and not lose my blessing, or them theirs.  He was a pastor, I was the tougher it takes more love to stand there and be strong than to fight back.  Maybe Jesus had something there.  Listened to a newly homeless woman told of how she had a hysterectemy , and the doctor forgot to send in her disability.  Later Theresa had her hair cut, and talked with her sister who is anorexic/bulemic. And is off her meds for depression, and probably going crazy.  Like clinical crazy.  She has no idea how it is harming what is left of her marriage, and her kids.  I wonder if she ever thinks which child will find her dead?  Heard from Penny, Glen is through with chemo for now for brain tumor, more tests later. 

Friday-I slept in until 7am.  I think I will rest today.  Maybe go for a ride.  Spend some time with the Lord.  So...what’s new you asked, that’s it.  But in many ways it is business as usual.  In every instance we have seen God work in our behalf when we let Him intervene for us.  Without Jesus this would be a week of being worn down, but I find truth in the words of Paul, of how we are “always bearing in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life of Jesus might be manifest in our body.”  And “wherefore we always pray for you, that our God would count you worthy of this calling, and fulfill all the pleasure of goodness, and the work of faith with power.”  And “for ye will have the poor with you always, but me ye have not always.”  Hopefully some were blessed and saw Jesus in us.  God has given us the right and responsibility to be ambassadors of Him on earth, His representatives.  Doing what needs to be done, when it needs to be done.  By the spirit, and not on our own understanding.  Today He has plans for you, untold, because we would probably argue with Him, or try to negotiate a better time or arrangement.  but His plans are for “ I know the thoughts I have towards you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.”  And so we go out every day knowing not what will happen, but that Jesus will guide us through it, and bless us.  So I thank you all for your continued  prayers, asking you add these mentioned to your prayer list, so when God answers, you know who and that He did it and can give Him praise.

And God has honored all our requests this week, the Bonneville isn’t leaking anymore, no it isn’t out of oil.  All is well at the Pantry, be there again Wednesday.  Theresa got her books, and we are still here available for whatever God has us called to.  Just another week, nothing special except Jesus is still in it, and as we patiently, or impatiently wait for His return, we carry on.  Knowing what lies ahead, just not sure of what lies between us and getting there.  So that’s what’s new this week, hope you will find peace and comfort in the Lord as we do, let me know of any blessings He sent your way, or of prayer requests.  Just another day....you must have just another God, mine lives.  So I can face tomorrow.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot

the shape of things to come

You may have never heard of Herbert George Wells, but if you recognize H. G. Wells, you know him, or of him.  A great science fiction writer, some of his books have been made into movies, using some cinematic freedom in their film translation.  So I will refer to the movie versions here.  The Time Machine, a classic where George goes ahead to the future, and finds it wasted.   But instead of going back in time to change time, he goes home, gets some books, and returns to the future to change the new future.  Using the three basic elements of science fiction, sex-Wena was the girl he left behind in the future, monsters, the Morlocks, and sex.  Always a winning combination.  In War of the Worlds, the original, no the “hi I’m Tom Cruise, ain’t I pretty,” remake, we see how when Martians invade, nothing will stop them.  Atomic bombs, tanks, rockets-nothing.  Although we do see one fight where when attacked with an ax handle, the monster is killed.  Maybe those angry mobs in Frankenstein armed with ax handles were more dangerous and effective than we think.  All this new weapon technology, and an ax handle still is the most effective.  But we do find that germs, good old worldly germs kill the Martians, seems they were to pure for us.  And yes, Gene Barry gets the girl, again the basic premise winning out.  Sex, monsters, sex.  But in an older Wells based movie from 1936, “Things to Come,” based on his book “Shapes of Things to Come,” we see man destroying himself from within, forming a brutal caste system, shades of that worldly success Communism, and finally ending up seeking a utopia from progress through technology, seems it went on for too long, and it wasn’t a good thing.  Watch any news lately about your i-phone tracking you?  Or is it really tricking you?  And old Herbert George warned us all about it almost 100 years ago.

More recently, some 60 years ago, when GM ruled the world, and the future looked bright, they brought us Motoramas, where they would display cars of the future, whetting our appetites for what was to come.  This Parade of Progress as it was known, was a hit everywhere it went.  Showing us a look forward, of things to come, L’Universalle, a mini-van decades before Chrysler invented them, the 1955 Nomad wagon, variations of Corvettes, and space looking vehicles, that we all knew we would be riding in someday.  Shades of the Jetsons, before George joined Spacely Space Sprockets, or Cogswell made his first cog.  The shape of things to come, and we could hardly wait until tomorrow.

But it takes the right shape, as the wrong shape can mean disaster.  And although many try and fail, or try to copy and miss the mark, today history is filled with Edsels, Kaisers, Hudsons, Ramblers, Chevy Citations, and Pintos and Vegas, reminding us the shape may be appealing, but it somehow just doesn’t fit.  Even triumph with its TR7 sports cr, advertised its wedge shape as “the shape of things to come,” and the shape was, Triumph went under like the rest of the British car industry.  Look around, America, a shape of things to come for all “Made in America” products?  Much like the affair of the heart.  When God created man, we were made in His image.  And seeing we were lonely, he created woman out of man.  A perfect partner for us, just as He is the perfect partner for us.  Maybe God was lonely for fellowship when He made us, we were made in His image after all.  But since God is love, and love demands a choice, He made us with a hole in our hearts, a shape that He could only fill.  That only He could satisfy.  And although many have tried to counterfeit, only in Jesus do we find that correct shape.  The shape of things to come, and written for us, to us, and about us over a 6000 year period.  Telling us when we let God put Jesus into that hole, His shape is perfect and will fill the void.  Reuniting us with God, which is what He always wanted.  But sadly some choose drugs, alcohol, women, cars, and the love of money to try to fill the hole.  And their shape won’t fit the need, although sometimes it will give some pleasure.  But leaves us in worse shape than when we began, but God still can fill that hole in your heart, no matter the damage done.  Jesus is the perfect fit for all hearts.  If you have accepted Him, you know.  If not, why not find out the truth today? 

Pick up a Bible, you may be surprised to find what looks like science fiction, instead it is true.  And sex, and shows it downside from sin, but also the beauty God created for a man and a woman in love in  “ Song of Solomon.”  Sex, monsters, and sex.  Seems old Herbert George, or H. G. wasn’t the first to use them as themes.  But only God got it right.  Even a story about an ax handle and an ax head....

So when looking, look to God first.  Let Him fill the hole in your heart with Jesus.  Be filled with the spirit, and watch as the future unfolds, we get excited for heaven.  While those who choose otherwise get hell.  Their choice, as God sends no one to hell, He sent Jesus to rescue us from it!  And as we watch the news, we see prophecies fulfilled more and more, and the Shape of Things to Come become more real.  With us shouting “Maranatha!” or come Lord Jesus.  God who came in the form, or shape of a man.  And is coming again-soon is sooner than you think.

Remember this-today was tomorrow yesterday.  And no man is promised tomorrow.  That hole in your heart, that void in your life is really a someone, not a something.  It is Jesus-the shape of things that were, that are, and are to come.  Don’t wait for the movie, you can read the book today.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

riding in my grandparents' cars

Come along with me for a short ride, a short ride back to a simpler time, when the make of car that you were riding in was more important than just riding in a car.  Where a short trip was like an odyssey, and a long trip seemed like weeks, if only for an afternoon.  My Grandfather was always a GM man, he loved his Pontiacs, but had a Buick or two in between, then two Cadillacs, finally returning to Pontiac fro his last car, a 1970 LeMans, two door with buckets seats, and he used to shift the auto like a manual.  Go Grandpa.  But the car I remember most, was his 1959 Buick Electra, 4 door hardtop, silver grey with red leather interior.  Classy, and long, with a rear seat center arm rest my sister used to ride on.  Without seat belts!  The car by which all other Buicks were measured.  My Pappy had a 1958 Ford Fairlane 500, again a two door hardtop, black with a white top, with plastic covered seats.  Stylin’ for his time, his final car.  Strangely both my grandmothers didn’t drive until later in life, my Grandmother a succession of Ramblers, her 1969 Rambler Rogue being way sporty, and my Nana and her 1967 Buick Skylark.  Purchased after Pappy died, she learned to drive, and we loved to ride her, as she thought you had to pass everyone.  Many emergency trips to the DDB, the Daisy Dairy Bar were taken, radio blaring through the rear speaker in her two door hardtop with the windows down.  White with a black vinyl top, she as the epitome of style in 1967.  At least her grandsons thought so.  So it is the cars remind me of my grandparents, of the good times, and of looking forward to riding with them.  a time with no seat belts, no child restraints, no children’s seats, and of a Nana who loved to speed.  And a sister perched on an armrest!  What will your kids’ kids remember about you and your driving?

Today we have child safety seats, harnesses, and air bag cut off switches.  Kids are terrified of driving away without wearing a seatbelt, feeling safe and secure while mom talks on her cell phone.  Give me a conversation, unbelted with Nana anytime, safer and more memorable.  We talked with our grandparents, focusing on the stories they told us, learning about the landmarks, and looking forward to that large ice cream cone, or having a hamburger, fires, and a Coke with them.  We were all about the ride, and the car you were in mattered.  And today we remember times, places, food, and rides because of them.  People knew your Grandpa had made it in the Buick, that Nana was a young widow in her Skylark, and their cars were their identification in the public eye.  And when they came to visit, their cars parked in our driveway were a sign to the neighbors that even though my Dad had a Rambler, his father and in laws were still cool.  Makes me wonder, what will my grandkids think of our cars?

Being grandchildless so far, Riley and Landon hang with us, going to Cruisin’ Grand in Theresa’s Mustang, with the top down.  Their mother drives an SUV, guess which car they rather ride in?  It seems with the exception of Uncle Buck, our old 1990 Ford Crown Vic, we have had convertibles, and sporty cars.  T birds, Mustangs, and a Probe-two doors for two kids.  Which also kept us out of the car pool society, let other kids tear up other peoples cars, not mine.  Which makes my mind wander, and wonder what will the memories be of cars when they get their license?  When they go to buy a car?  An SUV?  A Honda Civic sedan?  A car with a more powerful sound system than the car has horsepower?  How will we be remembered, as those who drove cool cars?  And motorcycles?  Have we lost cool and the coolness of riding in cool cars forever?  Where and what will they cruise in 20 years?  A Tesla?  A Prius?  I am wary of kids who brag their parents drive a Prius.  Wouldn’t you really rather have a Buick, from 1959 or 1967?  Generations come and go...but it is how they go that we remember.

It has been said, and wisely so, “I didn’t quit riding because I got old,  I got old because I quit riding.”  Old age being as much a state of mind as it is a state of body.  With fun being a factor in the equation.  And although my grandparents were much older than me, I never thought of them as old, they got out and did things.  They talked with us and to us.  We rode with them, an early reminder of the trip being the destination.  We interacted, and listened, as we were their main audience, and a captive one at that.  And many values and life lessons were taught to us at an early age, that later we would pass on to our kids.  Lessons learned from sitting unbelted in a car with the windows down, and sometimes the radio blaring.  “Go fast Nana,” and she did.  “Drive slow past my friend’s house again Grandpa,” showing off his car.  Identified by what they drove, and wanting to be identified with them.  Impressing our friends.  And sometimes stopping and inviting them along.  And Grandpa always bought, no matter how many cones for each kid.  They were respected, and looked up to, as were the cars they drove.

Reputations can be easily earned, and sometimes misplaced.  Or come from the strangest source.  We find in Antioch the first time believers are called Christians.  They talked about Jesus, lived like Him, showed the fruits of the spirit in their daily lives, so they were referred to as Christians, or “Little Christs.”  By the Gentiles of all people, it was a name they didn’t invent for themselves.  But soon they liked the name, and as the gospel spread, so did the name.  At first it was a name that was used mockingly, sadly today it is also.  But to these so-called, who didn’t worship idols, who lived clean lives, who actually liked being different, they liked the name, and so today we are still called Christians.  And so the gospel spread, many times one on one, like the conversations while driving with my Grandpa, or listening to Nana talk about her late husband, my Pappy.  We learned things first hand,  and found it was OK to ride with them, to be associated with them.  That older people were cool too, just on a different level.  Just like Christians. 

As Christians we are the coolest, just on a different level.  We have eternal life, and if anyone should have fun it is us.  And how we share the gospel will influence those who listen.  The times talking while driving, not on your cell phone, kids not glued to some screen, can be the best times ever.  Memories in the making, and a time of sharing Jesus.  Not just Christian music, but in conversation, answering questions from them, and making them think and consider Christ in their lives.  Building testimonies, and stories to be repeated to the next generation.  And some will remember the car, some the person.  Blessed are those who have both.  And find out how cool it is to know Jesus.  To be called a Christian, even if made fun of.  My friend Peter tells people to “burn rubber, not your soul,”  good advice from someone who knows.  So I ask, is your life an SUV with the windows up, no fun, or a convertible, top down going places?  What ride best describes your life in Christ?  Bored and confused, or alive and exciting?  What Jesus do you prefer?  Life is for the living, so get out and live.  Wear the name Christian with great joy, and live life with the windows down, wind in your hair.  Let your ride reflect your Bible, if it is worn out, it reflects a life that isn’t.  Experience Jesus first hand, looking back the rides with my grandparents were times of fun, stories, and precious memories.  Just like Christians should have.  A new generation is waiting, what you drive and the places you take them will forever influence them.  They were called Christians at Antioch, the world saw something different in them.  What does the world see in you?  What will your kids remember about riding in their grandparents’ car?  Do we dare call you Christian?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com