the ironic tragdy of things

His name was Anthony Patch, and although the key fictional figure in F. Scott Fitzgerald’s second novel, The Beautiful and Damned, he is a good reminder of how not to go through life.  Remember it was Scott who would write “the rich are different,” and the book centers on a young Anthony from age 25 to 31, and his marriage to Gloria.  Both are sad and best forgotten characters, but somehow even though the book wasn’t that great, many reviewers still today refer to it by its acronym, BAD, maybe it was the depressing nature of the characters rather than the plot.  It is set over 100 years ago, 1910, and was written in 1922, but the themes seem timeless, although time would run out for Anthony and Gloria.

Anthony was a socialite, today we call them partiers, whose main goal in life was staying in good graces with a rich tycoon in his family, so as to receive the whole of the inheritance.  Living the lifestyle of the rich before he had any money, he falls into alcoholism, depression, and the marriage hangs on barely, Anthony wanting the inheritance, and Gloria wanting Anthony.  A couple gladly not wasted on anyone else, they truly deserved each other.  They live in the present, dreaming of  the inheritance they will get one day, but are consumed by the past.  And we find that at the end, where they were once young and vibrant, that in their early thirties they finally receive the inheritance, but their lifestyle has left them bedridden and sick, we find them being attended to as two old people would be, sailing on a ship bundled up alone and miserable.  Getting what they wanted, just not wanting what they got.  They set out to reap the rich and glorious, only to find rich and glorious don’t necessarily go hand in hand.  They inherited what they thought as the world, but ended up costing them their souls.

An all too familiar premise today too.  When first starting out in life, we are going to change the world, make money, become successful, and live happily ever after.  Then we find the world changes us, we downgrade the definition of success to reality, and live miserably.  We have taken on the things of the world, and they have won.  Some get it early and change their priorities, some live waiting for the next deal to be the one that sets them on the road to success.  When young, I was invited to an Amway meeting, meeting the ones who had made it, only to find their real theme was to “fake it until you make it.”  Live beyond your means, and when your ship comes in, then you can pay back the loans that had you live rich when you weren’t.  And many did and do, the outward appearance of success to their peers keeping their egos fed, until one day the notes come due, the money isn’t there, and the ones they tried to impress aren’t worth impressing.  And you end up miserable like Anthony and Gloria did.  Their ship has come in, only it takes oars to row it, and they don’t have the energy to do it.  So they sit tied to the dock, watching the tide roll in....

This has sadly happened to churches along the way.  Where each new church set out to do things differently, and get closer to God than the one they just left, not making the same mistakes as the one they just left.  But without God in it, it will fail, and we see too much of that today.  There was a time when I thought the world had invaded the church, but I was to find out that the church invited the world in.  Then locked the doors behind it, and wouldn’t let it out.  Basing success on full pews, overflowing offerings, and social programs.  We are big, so we must be successful, never knowing how miserable they really are.  Teachings that are trendy rather than spirit inspired, or even scriptural.  Don’t rock the boat, or the giving will stop, and as long as they are rich, they brag about their success.  Yet they are poor, broken, and miserable on the inside.  They have inherited the things of the world, found they are miserable, only their pride will keep them from repenting, and trading their valuables for values.  And it didn’t need to be that way. 

I have attended churches that where the pastor gives an order, based on what he believes is the truth.  “Go out and bring in the lost,” he declares, “and I will get them saved.”  And the congregation tries, they invite many to church, but none come.  As the weeks go by, the new building they built to house the multitude that never comes, sits empty.  The buses bought to bring them in sit empty, and then he blames the congregation, “you didn’t do your part, so I can’t do mine.”  It is their fault, never his, and soon the congregation dwindles to nothing.  They were hungry for God, and still are, and go where they can be fed.  Where Jesus is the main thing, and the truth is taught.  And someday another church, one of God will buy the buildings for pennies on the dollar, reaping the benefits of following God, rather than seeking worldly success through numbers.  A property that was once beautiful, but became damned, but resurrected by God.  Like many of the lives that will fill it.  For when God builds the church, we don’t labor in vain.  And sadly those who sought fame and fortune in the church will find out that they gave up their souls, only to be owned by what they desired.  Meanwhile the meek shall inherit the earth.  And as I look around at the earth today, there isn’t much I want to inherit.  What good is a rich relation if they have to die so you can inherit?

We have Jesus, who did die so we can inherit, but he is alive, and the earth we will inherit is not what we see today.  Roads paved in gold, not filled with potholes on many freeways today.  No fences, no police, no crime, as all sin is gone.  No government trying to deceive, along with lying politicians, for we will have an almighty king, a benevolent despot whose love for us cannot be matched.  No sickness, no bad days, as in his presence we will have it all.  Everything promised in the Bible and more-call it Amazing Grace, for there are no words to describe it.  But yet hell is described, a place of weeping and gnashing of teeth.  Just like on the same earth the lost struggled so hard to conquer.  They may have gained the world, but it cost them their soul, instead of being souled out to Jesus.  The ironic tragedy being that God will give you the desires of your heart, and when it is him, you get all of him.  But when you choose the world, you get the world, and lose everything.  Just like Anthony and Gloria did.  Old before their time, too ill to enjoy what they had desired, losers in life.  And like everyone else, when they die, they will leave everything.  So rich, yet so poor. 

So choose Jesus today, and enjoy life.  Set your sight on things on high, heaven, and desire the better things of God.  If your dreams are met here on earth, you will find you are short changed, as the real riches are found in heaven.  So rich that it doesn’t matter.  When you choose Jesus you end up getting the whole world, the perfect one you set out in search of, or tried to find.  You will live forever in the comfort of Jesus, and we don’t have to wait.  Today is practice for the future, our job to be ambassadors of Christ, telling others how Jesus saved, so they can escape the trap of death when they die.  And begin life anew today in his spirit.  “On earth as it is in heaven,” not the other way around.  Many will try the world’s way and fail.  But those who choose Jesus will find life, and an abundance of it.  God’s promise, and he never fails to deliver.  We will all struggle in life, why come up short at the end, when victory is there for you.  Choose the wisdom of God and his ways, and you inherit the earth.  A new earth prepared just for us, by our creator.  And who knows us better than the one who created us. 

Seems there was this couple named Ananias and Sapphira who once sold some land, and held back form God.  So he held back from them.  Like Anthony and Gloria they wanted all, and ended up owing all.  Think about it.  “He is no fool who gives up what he cannot keep, to gain what he cannot lose.”  What’s in your wallet?  Better yet, who is in your heart?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

lasting impressions

We were on a cycle tour to Canada, going through San Francisco on the way.  A beautiful summer day, we decided to ride through the town, rather than around it, and see the new Giants ballpark.  A beautiful area now from what had once been a run down dock area, a man approached us scalping tickets.  Not really interested, I shot him back a price, and he accepted-so I had to take them, and they turned out to be behind home plate in the 13th row-you could hear the umpire talking to the catcher.  And so we got to see Barry Bonds that day, hoping he would hit one into the bay, and the fans in the kayak could chase it.  He never did, but did leave a lasting impression on me.  He actually dogged two separate hits to him, being so lazy he turned them both into doubles. We could see perfectly where he was playing left field, and our old coach Mr. Lawrence would have never allowed us to do that.  But yet here was Mr. Home Run King acting like he was only shagging fly balls.  Not the impression I had of him, but one I was left with, and to this day, I still think of him as a lazy bum.  Based on the one time, the  only time I ever saw  him play.  His witness anything but an All Star performance.

We are told that first impressions are the most important, but I have found that like Dave Thomas’ philosophy of the best tow bites of a burger, the first and the last, the last seems to stick with us more.  The first bite to say “oh how good,” and the last to make us say “I want another.”  Sorry Barry, you had it your way, you ain’t no king to me, and I lost all respect for you that day.  By the way, the Giants won.  But just like the thousands watching the game that day, many watch us everyday, and if we have told them we are a Christian, they expect certain things from us.  And you may only get one chance to many to be that Bible they are looking to read, or to condemn.  So our actions and attitudes, along with our words and reactions tell more about us and Jesus than the best sermons.  Or our best recitation of the word.  So we need to walk softly with Jesus, and when it comes from inside, and when we are in the spirit, then we see lives changed.  Sadly we see lives changed from when our flesh acts up too.  A good example is you are saved, and still drink.  Proclaiming it is OK, falling back on bits and pieces of broken scripture to justify your sin.  But a man is watching who isn’t saved, and thinks “he drinks, he sleeps around, he watches porno, and he cheats on his taxes.  So do I, so what is different between the two of us?”  And although we don’t lose our salvation through our continued sin, he never gains his because of it.  So ask yourself, is that how you want to represent the one who saved you?  The creator of the universe?  Is that the gospel you which to portray?

I know this will start arguments, and being caught in sin always will seek justification for the sinner, but consider the character of God, and consider him.  We find in Galations 5 the “fruit of the spirit,” love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, meekness, long suffering, and self control.  All things that describe the character of Jesus.  Character being who you are, reputation being what people see, character shows in the situation when we least expect it.  Self control manifests itself in our decisions, our choices, and shows where we are with Jesus.  Meekness says no when we can say yes, considering others first.  Just like Jesus considered us first, for while we were yet sinners, he died for us.  But goodness and kindness, who cannot use a little more of both?  He had compassion on the woman caught in adultery, where are your accusers?  Also where was the man, I understand it takes two.  We will never know what he wrote in the sand, but he did it kindly, maybe a reputation of each man there, but never exposing their deepest rejection of him, he was kind.  Not bringing new sin to light, but writing what everyone knew already, and they all left.  He was kind and gentle the man who was blind, showing goodness to those he healed.  His character always on display for all to see, he never got angry and sinned, a miracle often over looked.  Even his calling of the woman caught was with a sign of respect, the same way he responded to his mother when she complained about the wedding having no wine.  He didn’t talk down to anyone, showed respect, love, and compassion, but yet stood firm in who he was.  How do we stand, where is our character?

If your idea of growing in Christ is wearing out the seat of your pants before the soles of your shoes, get out like Jesus told us and make disciples.  Take the gospel out to all  you meet, and don’t step over any Lazaruses along the way.  The ultimate kindness, he showed respect to him, where the rich man ignored him, probably cursing him having to step over him everyday.  The rich man stepping over a man who represented Jesus, and we find two different lasting impressions.

What is your lasting impression of Jesus?  We can see him on the cross before we can remember his words.  Actions are like that, and the world was watching that day, and everyday since.  Yet he chooses us to be his ambassadors?  His depth of love and understanding must go far beyond those of mortal men, but I know I don’t wish anyone to go to hell.  Consider that the next time you think it is OK, or that no one is watching.  Maybe Barry forgot that that afternoon.  Just another game to him, there would be others, but only one chance for me to see him live.  Today you may be the only, or possibly the last time anyone sees the gospel.  Make a lasting impression on them, being kind and good, Show them love by putting them first, no retribution, and respond as Jesus would have.  Many ask “what would Jesus do?”  If you know him, you shouldn’t have to ask.

What was your first impression Jesus?  Your last one will leave a lasting impression long after you are gone. Love him in the morning when you see the sun a rising, love him in the evening cause he took you through the day.   And in the in between times when you feel the pressure rising, remember that he loves you.  And promises to stay with you. 

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

to be or knot to be

It is not a lie to say I was a Boy Scout.  But I was barely a Boy Scout, as I somehow made it to Tenderfoot.  I say somehow, as I could do many of the things required, but never took the time to be tested.  I was too busy out having fun.  Think about it, a group of teenage boys, with limited parental supervision, given knives and axes, and and left in the woods for a weekend.  Eating junk food, playing with fire, and listening to stories around that campfire at night, all being supervised by men in shorts acting like the teens they were there to supervise.  And not a cell phone, i-pod, or laptop in sight.  It was a parent free weekend, filled with so much fun that who had time to do anything like earning merit badges.  Plus although you got to wear that cool sash with all the badges, they expected you to act responsibly too, which meant less fun, more badges and dealing with kids like me.  So maybe I was to become the oldest Tenderfoot, while many younger were earning their badges on the way to Life Scout, with few attaining Eagle.  Those guys really got respect....But one Jamboree I was called into action because of my age, finding rank doesn’t always have its privledges.

I was more of a Jack of All Trades, really a screw up of all things, with an attention span of 2 minutes.  So when it came time to be part of a booth showing off your talents, I was like the last kid chosen in kickball, no one wanted me.  So the Scoutmaster assigned me to help some younger scouts, by age but not by rank.  These guys were knot tying fools, they could tie anything into knots, and could do various knots.  Me, I wore loafers.  But although their fingers were knot crazy, they were scared in front of a crowd, and some would even cry if called upon to speak.  So I was the mouthpiece, describing all the knots, and making it all sound interesting.  And they did a great job, I must have been OK< because we won the Best Booth, and a special badge to wear on our sashes, for those fortunate enough to have earned one.  But being the spokesman, and the oldest, and the biggest, I got the award, and the recognition-all without even having to tie my shoes.  We had won as a team, but one kid, who was a knot tying phenom, got upset with me, and wanted to rat me out.  He had taught all the other kids knots, I just was the front man.  And I wore him like a shadow the rest of the Jamboree, we were now recognized for what the knot tyers had done, and he was buy telling everybody he had done everything, that I was hogging the glory.  Of which I didn’t want, I wanted to be out setting fires with jiffy juice like my other denmates, not being held responsible.  There was no fun in that, and with this kid telling everyone what a yuk I was, it made it worse.  The kid had me tied in knots, and somewhere in it all was a life lesson, all that responsibility just had to have a lesson tied to it.

Now Mr. Deyerle knew who did all the work, it was no secret.  But he was trying to teach us teamwork, and the team got the credit, not the individual.  It took me to entertain as the others tied knots, or it would have put the audience to sleep.  It took both our talents, and he knew it, and while I wanted to be out of the lime light, this other kid wanted to be in it.  So when we were asked for an encore that night, Mr. Deyerle let the kid MC the event.  And the kid panicked, and couldn’t tie anything, he was tongue tied.  So Mr. D nodded at me, I stepped in, and helped out.  A lesson learned that day on teamwork, and who gets the credit.  The rain falls on the just and the unjust, some tie knots and get tongue tied, some can’t and don’t.  To be or knot to be, go figure.

A lesson I still remember, and was reinforced years ago when working for Roger Penske.  He defined teamwork as “if it needs to be done, do it.”  The team wins, and the driver cannot do it without the pit crew, the mechanics, the crew chief, and the sponsor’s backing.  It takes a team...we may be in competition, but not with each other.   We are compliment rather than compete with each other, something Paul wrote about in Corinthians 2000 years ago.  Many were following different teachers, Paul and Apollos among them.  Some taught, some evangelized, but it was God who provided the growth.  Without him, it didn’t matter, with him it made all the difference.  We find many different talents in the church today, and God has made no two of us alike.  Some are really thankful for that.  But we need the talents of each other, in God’s power and direction to succeed.  Only God opens the heart, gives the increase, and satisfies the soul.  Only Jesus is the way, and not dressing alike, singing the same songs, reading only the same scriptures, or trying to earn the same heavenly badge will work.  It is not what we can do, it is what Jesus did and still does that changes everything and changes us.  Only God can give the increase, so get over it.  So we should focus on him rather than on the efforts and methods we have, even those were given to us by him.  So we find strength in Christ, who tells us we can do all things in him.  When we cooperate with the spirit rather than compete, we all win, and Jesus is glorified, he gets the credit.  But yet too many times we seek the gifts rather than the gift giver, and end up not being part of his glory.  And the strongest of churches you find made up of diverse people, serving God, the ultimate title given to us on earth.  There is only one savior-Jesus, and he came to serve, making himself a little lower than the angels for awhile.  Imagine what we can do if we serve rather than seek attention of our talents?  And no amount of badges will gain your merit with God, you cannot make him love you more than he does, but you can change to love him more than you do, by loving his people more.  By just doing what he shows you to do, and nothing more.

I still cannot tie knots well today, it is like it takes a third hand for me.  So I turn to Jesus to be that hand.  To tie and untie that which I cannot, and to give him all the credit.  Our booth may have been about tying knots, but Mr. D saw a more important lesson to be learned.  Jesus is like that, he sees a more important lesson to be learned, and when he gets the credit, we get the badges.  We get to know him better, to seek him first, and to cooperate in the spirit rather than compete against it.  And all the time God provides the growth. 

Jesus Christ, who was, who is, and who is to come.  Some tie, some explain, but Jesus still provides the growth.  Knot you, or me.  Paul may have watered after Apollos planted, just like God planned, and he still provides that growth today.  It is he who makes us the new work, who makes us each unique, and only he who can save us.  The same but different.  Go plant or water today.  Ask knot what your God can do for you, ask what you can do for your God. 

Forever a Tenderfoot, love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

ask me tomorrow

After years of marriage, and even more of being best friends, somewhere along the line they had come to the fork in the road and taken it.  He still rode, but mostly alone or with an occasional old friend, she devoted herself to craft shows, and filling the extra bedroom with her projects.  But of late when talk came of where to go this summer on vacation, she listened as the talk became of a motorcycle tour.  Two weeks on the road...alone together.  And when pressed for an answer, she always replied “ask me tomorrow.”  And for a month of tomorrows, he did, and her answer never wavered.  Until the Friday before he was going to leave, taking only a few days, then they would take off in the car together.  Going to bed with one last invite, he was greeted with one last “ask me tomorrow,” and was shocked when he woke up early to go, she was ready, and packed, and was waiting for him.  Tomorrow has come, and she decided yes, which delighted both of them, and his few day ride, turned into a two week honeymoon.  Taking it day by day, every night he still asked, “do you want to ride more tomorrow?” and she would reply “ask me tomorrow.”  And every morning she was ready, and the days turned into weekends, weekends began the week, and soon two weeks passed by, followed by a phone call to the one house sitting, “we may not be back for awhile, we’ll let you know tomorrow.”  And many miles, many memories, and many good times were shared.  Memories of long 500 mile days were now replaced with 250-300 mile rides, stopping when they wanted, and going where they wanted.  No plans, counting heavily on tomorrow.  “It’s going to rain tomorrow, want to head home?”  And you guessed it, her answer was consistently “ask me tomorrow.”  And the rain never stopped her before, and today was no different, the rain suit was a tighter fit after the many years, but ride they did into the storm.  “Can you handle the sunshine ahead?” they joked, and of course they both laughed, “ask me tomorrow.”  A life time of questions, decisions never dealt with until the next day, and as long as tomorrow kept coming, they still rode together.  That fork in the road fading in the rear view mirror.

There were many overnighters like this, spur of the moment, unplanned “let’s go riding days,” but they were always tomorrow, not today.  Even when nothing was going on, “ask me tomorrow” was always her answer.  “Too many things can change day to day,” she insisted, “let’s just see what happens,” and life always seemed to be worth the wait.  And worth waiting for.  Never planning for tomorrow, but always ready for what came their way, until one day, the day before they had plans to do something, her answers changed.  Her “ask me tomorrow,” answer was not forthcoming, she had lost interest.  And became withdrawn, and the separation of friends, and marriage was evident.  Still in love, where once she had waited for tomorrow, now she delayed, putting things off, even her crafts.  She had gotten slow, then slower, and now hardly got out of bed.  Always tired, she became miserable, demanding, and everything became “right now” to her, with no thought of tomorrow.  Tomorrow seemed a forgone conclusion, and one day she passed away in her sleep.  Till death do us part having a new meaning in their relationship, and when asked how he was doing, all her husband could say was “ask me tomorrow.”  Heartbroken and lonely, it had always come before, but ended one night, long before either was ready, but he knew her place in heaven was reserved because the one thing she hadn’t waited till tomorrow to do was accept Jesus Christ.  Now she had gone way beyond tomorrow, and had entered into eternal todays....

Saying nothing is saying no to Jesus.  Waiting is, or better yet delaying is a tool of the devil, for no man is promised tomorrow.  And today has enough problems of its own.  “Do you want to go to church with me?” we ask, and often the answer is no, but the answer we find hard to deal with is “ask me tomorrow.”  Delaying, when you know their answer is really no.  But what when God’s answer to our prayers is no?  We love the yes answer, it is always nice to know God agrees with us, but rather we should rejoice when we agree with him.  That’s the way it should be.  And then there is no, we don’t like being told no, we like to be in control of everything, so much for putting God first and saying we trust him.  But I have learned that every “no” answer is a blessing, because a better yes is coming.  But what do you do with wait?  How long?  For what?  What if the answer is no after along wait, what if it is yes, and I still am not happy?  What if tomorrow never comes, and the questions are never answered?  Prayers still not answered?  Maybe today and the decisions we make today are more important than we think.  And the answer of who is Jesus, and realizing who he is cannot wait.  People die in their sleep, accidents happen on the way home, and people go to hell even though they don’t have to.  “Ask me tomorrow,” when the tomorrow that had always been there never comes.  And hell captures them, an eternity of pain and suffering-unbelievable, but real, and suddenly today’s question, today’s invitation is more important than it will be tomorrow, or was yesterday. 

We never know where the end is when we are in any situation.  We are locked in the middle of it, and only looking back can see where the middle was.  Don’t look back and miss heaven.  That promise of tomorrow is fleeting, and the decisions you make today will influence them.  Man plans, God laughs, but really he mourns for each soul who denies him, such is the depth of his love for us.  Even while sinners, he sent Jesus....

So as saved people, we look forward to a tomorrow with Jesus.  Heaven, yet we still make plans here on earth.  And God changes them, often without our input, having us avoid storms, danger, and showing us which fork in the road to take.  A marriage with him lasts forever, and death do us part is only a new beginning.  No tomorrows in heaven, just an eternal right now with Jesus.  The decision has been made, and God honors it, yes or no.  But it is still up to you.  So what are you waiting for?  Best friends, wives and husbands, and riding buddies are all relationships that will someday end.  If you really love God, plan now for tomorrow with him.  But make sure to bring along your wife, invite your friends, and let everyone know by your lifestyle Jesus saves.  Some day you will not be able to “ask me tomorrow,” for tomorrow will never come. You will be there.  Maybe today is the day to not put off any longer your dreams, your rides, or your relationship with God.  Pay me now or pay me later only works if you have a later, and maybe it is later than you think.  So close yet so far, I hope that you are here to “ask me tomorrow,” but if you aren’t I hope you made the right choice today.  You never know when it will be your last ride, so make it a good one.  Looking forward to the eternal today only found in Christ.  Today was tomorrow yesterday.  And yesterday was once tomorrow, but now today.  “Ask me tomorrow...”  but make the decision today.  Some riding seasons like life are just too short.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

if I never owned a motorcycle

“Well I never,” shouted my yuppie date, waving her Gucci bag in her $200 custom denim jeans, as she found no amusement at all in the chain lube that had found its way on them.  “Well maybe you should,” was the best answer I could come up with.  How many times are you confronted by someone who knows more than you do, which insults us who do, only to find what a complete idiot they really are?  And the more they talk, the stupider they get?  Pick a subject, and you can find them to be an equal opportunity ignoramus, with some holding a doctorate in stupid.  So looking back, what made her think her hair wouldn’t get helmet head?  What made her think high heels while riding wouldn’t be a problem?  What made her think chain lube would also lube anything else it came in contact with?  And what made me think about taking her for a ride in the first place?  And from that day forward, I can only imagine the horrible stories she told of her coming close to fashion death, the injured pride of her precious denim, and having to hold her Gucci bag with both hands, while trying to hang on for dear life.  All before leaving the parking lot, where we decided, actually where she decided to meet, so her friends wouldn’t see her on a motorcycle.  And I learned how quickly a pretty face could turn so undesirable.  And how the true inner beauty of a woman shines from inside her helmet. 

When dating over 37 years ago, I was more influenced by the look rather than whether she rode, which made for many one night dates.  No riding, I lost interest, and many times when asking “Do you ride?” before asking her out prevented from spending big bucks on dinner when it could be used for tires, Castrol, and or making the payment on my new ride.  But in the rare occasions that beauty won out over the beast, when she met other women who rode, they felt out of place.  She had been to many of the places they had, only in an airplane, shuttled to the hotel by taxi, and then escorted on group tours.  And never could communicate well with them, they had been there too, and seen the beauty of the road, had been greeted by fresh air, and eaten places other than hotel dining rooms.  And they had known how truly rewarding a hot bath is after a day of riding, to soothe the bones from miles of adventure, rather than from miles of being cramped on a 737.  They had missed the fun of checking their luggage, then retrieving it, hoping it made it with them.  They had missed the fun of “guess what we’re having for lunch?” and were forced to eat a local favorite, at a local favorite hangout, meeting others and swapping stories.  Her stories of the day told of things seen, people met, and places planned for tomorrow, they both had that in common, only one would find adventure, the other a busy schedule.  One inside, the other far from it.  So I got more careful in my dating choices...”so what do you ride?” came up more often in the conversation.

My first date with Theresa 37 years ago, actually our first night together, we spent riding on my R100S.  Staying up until 6 in the morning, and knowing this was the girl for me.  And to this day neither one of us has never wavered from it.  We have ridden in 46 states together, Canada too, and I cannot imagine life without her.  And riding has made our marriage stronger.  On one Torches Across America ride, I was interviewed by a young reporter in Oklahoma City about my wife and I riding.  She told me her husband did, and she didn’t, until a marriage counselor told her to.  And that it was a great thing for a marriage, and keep them close. And with a great big smile on her face admitted it did, it has, and it does.  They ride everywhere together, and have seen more, done more, and had more fun and adventures together riding.  She may have looked yuppie on TV, but while buddy seat sitting she was a motorcyclist all the way.  And I completely concur with that, motorcycling has made my marriage greater, more fun, more exciting, and taken us places that tour groups have never heard of.  We have struggled in 100+ degree weather, through torrential rain, through lost cameras, and running out of gas.  But in all things we grew stronger, I grew smarter, and we still look forward to riding the next weekend.  Or week, or for the month whenever we can.  Life on two wheels had brought us together, kept us together, and so we continue to ride together.  And believe me men, there is nothing like having your best friend and riding partner your wife.  And for those that are dating, if she doesn’t ride, won’t try it, or even think it’s cool, she is not worth the dinner date you have in mind.  Too many men have suffered through marrying a pretty face who doesn’t ride, and watched as his bike became a bench for her junk in his garage.  And finally sold...breaking his heart, with a longing to ride even more every time he hears a motorcycle go by.  And he is only left to wonder what if?, he had married a woman who rode, who shared his interests as much as he shared hers.

We are told to not be unequally yoked in scripture.  For what do both darkness and light have in common?  I have known too many couples over the years where one is saved, the other not, and are miserable.  After having a great time in church, she goes home and cannot share it with her husband, and something will always be missing in their relationship.  She will never be loved like she wants, they are unequally yoked.  Just as bad are the women who make church their highest priority, shutting out their husbands, and making them feel not as holy.  She might as well not be married, as she too will never see the blessings of having a strong husband in the Lord.  And even sadder is the woman who is married to the man who thinks he is the spiritual leader in his home, as he should be, but falls short, and they both make excuses for their sin.  It doesn’t have to be that way, yet many refuse to listen to God’s word, thinking they know better.  And suffer for it.  Just because she goes to church doesn’t make her a Christian, just like a leather jacket and a helmet don’t make you a motorcyclist.  It takes Jesus to be a Christian, without him you are nothing, he tells us you are either for him or against him.  Not for means against, not I’m thinking, or considering.  No gray areas with Jesus, let your yes be yes, and your no be no.  Your maybe is really a no.  Consider that in your relationship with him, and also when dating.  And of course riding.

After an hour a bad seat can ruin the day.  A bad marriage can ruin a life.  In both cases it takes getting to know the method you choose to travel.  I choose to travel with Jesus, and for 36+ years with Theresa the trips only get better.  Yes there are some bad seats, the America ride yesterday is still reminding us both, but we learn, and the Tiger comes home tomorrow.  And I have found that when I consider her more for the ride, when I put her comfort and well being first, it makes for a better ride.  Showing off at 120 mph doesn’t impress every woman you meet.  So put her first, just as you put Jesus first.  And when you do, you see things through his eyes, and you find love doesn’t demand its own way, but has a way all its own for both.  Together in church, together in prayer, together in riding. 
Together.  Or twogether, with Jesus threegether is the best.  After Jesus, your marriage is the best relationship you will ever have.  Putting him first will make you love her more, be a better husband, and her a better wife.  When it all comes together and you ride...the best is here and still yet to come.  If I never owned a motorcycle I would have missed out on life.  If I never met Theresa I would have missed out on marital bliss.  And if I never knew Jesus I would miss out on heaven.  Yet I have been blessed by all three, and I can tell you, Jesus, Theresa, and motorcycles, it just don’t get any better.  Some may brag “they never,”  I can say I do.  If helmet head is your description of beauty, you know just what I mean.  Denim, leather, and the smell of chain lube....let the romance begin.

love with compassion,

Mike

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