to each stupid action, there is a stupid reaction

The other night a man confessed to me his first crime was breaking into a school, and spraying graffiti.  Leaving only their initials in paint to claim victory, they couldn’t understand why the police caught them.  How did they know their names?  They had only left their initials...There I was riding along at 136 in a 55 zone, when I got pulled over.  Who was I to blame?  Where is a riding partner when you need one?  Another night my friend was found sleeping off too much wine in his truck.  When he responded to not knowing about any accident, when they brought him his rear bumper with the license plate still attached, his brilliant response was “I don’t know.”  Another time we ran from the cops at over 100 mph, and when asked why we ran, Bouke told them “because you were chasing us.”  And he bought it, actually he was, he admired our bikes, and rode fast himself.  And loved the answer.  I don’t think this one ever got recorded in his daily log.  Who was to blame when BH wheelied and ended up on the trunk of a Plainfield PD car?  The girl he was trying to impress?  When Greg got caught stealing records, his answer was “I just wanted to put them in my car, then I was going back to pay for them.”  Sometimes though it is trick questions, like last name first, first name last, how many fail that test?  Or like my answer when told by an old boss to quit asking questions, I replied “why?”  It seems that to every stupid action, a stupid reaction is required.  When asked why he was shooting at the guy chasing him, his reply was “because I thought I’d hit him.”  Remember Inspector Clousseau petting the dog, getting bit.  “Does your dog bite?” he asked,  and after getting bit, the man behind the counter replied “no, it’s not my dog.” 

When the Byrds had a hit with Turn, Turn, Turn putting words from Ecclesiastes into tune, they could have added a time to be stupid, a time to be smart, a time to pull over, a time to run, and a time to answer and a time to shut up.  Not found in the original text, but true just the same.   But yet some events happen to us, without our OK.  Geno one time riding my R90S blew by in triple digits.  The look of horror on his face told me there was a problem, and after thinking to turn off the key, the bike came to a stop.  One cable to the Dell O’rtos had broken, leaving the carburetor in full open position.  But with still enough power after disconnecting it to ride 70 with only one carb.   How many have slammed on the brakes when the car started to skid, just adding to the skidding?  Ever caught with Oreo crumbs on your shirt, and chocolate on your face, denying you ate them?  We even had a teacher once that would catch us when playing Simon Says.  She would cleverly say “Simon says jump up,” and we would.  Then all be busted because she “didn’t say jump down.”  Simon says “$%#*& you.”  When asked if a friend would take a look at a car of mine not running right, his reply, “park it over there so I can see it.”  Another time I offered am, “can I lend you a hand?”  His reply, “I’d look awfully funny with three hands.”  But some of the classics come from MAD magazine’s “Snappy Answers to Stupid Questions.”  “Have an accident?”  “No thanks, I just had one.”  Well, it is said that humor is the purest form of truth....after a lunch with Marcia and her sister, where she was particularly funny, she was told to quit acting stupid.  “I’m not acting!” was her reply, and all of those offended now had to laugh.  So we all have quick quips, pre-practiced responses ready for whatever situation we may find ourselves in. 

But one question asked is “who is Jesus?”  The replies range from great teacher, rabbi, philosopher, author-although he inspired, he never wrote any books, religious man, and revolutionary.  But while all may have an grain of truth, the correct answer is he is God, and man, and the son of God.  Also the son of man.  Confused.  Don’t try to figure it out, just go with it.  He is fully man, and fully God.  The only way we could and can be saved.  Not a stupid question, but still lots of stupid answers.  With one funny one standing out.  A handwritten graffiti on a wall said “Jesus saves.”  And underneath it someone wrote, “and at today’s prices that is a miracle.”  If they only knew how true that is.  But he can save us from sin, from misery, from heartache, and from many forms of stupid.  Yet so often when we pray asking, we don’t wait for his answer.  Or worse yet, don’t like it.  And make it worse.  Even the Jews when  led out of captivity by Moses, complained about the manna God fed them.  And the shoes that never wore out.  Yet they wanted to go back to Egypt and be slaves, because the food was better.  Yet they entered the promised land and not Moses.  Even today many ask questions about Jesus, yet won’t listen or consider the truth.  Again this man who once sprayed graffiti, leaving his initials, told me God couldn’t save him.  Because he hadn’t seen him.  He felt seeing was believing, God tells us without faith it is impossible to please him, for believing is seeing.  The psycho field has a term for it, normalcy bias, because I haven’t seen or experienced it, it doesn’t exist.  Brought to you by the same wise folks who claim you are insane if you do the same thing expecting a different result.  Got me there.  Yet by denying God, they still expect to go to heaven, how can they believe in heaven without Jesus?  Maybe some quick graveside inspections might prove Jesus’ claim of resurrection.  His is empty, Mohammed is in his, so is Buddha.  So is Joseph Smith, and Brigham Young.  And yours will be full to if you don’t accept Jesus, by faith.  Yet many seek him, but don’t find.  They don’t want him, they want a genie in a lamp to take care of all their problems, no matter how self inflicted they are.  Some religions make you take a course, getting a diploma.  Some take works, some make no promises, but hope only there is no hell.  With God it takes only faith.  Believing in your heart, and not being afraid to tell what he has done for you.  But what if you are dumb and cannot speak?  To the dissenter, I offer the fruit of the spirit.  Love, joy, peace, patience, and the list goes on.  You will change and others will notice it. 

Where we once played Simon Says, maybe we need to remember what Jesus says.  “You must be born again.”  Makes no sense, physically you cannot be, but spiritually you must be.  So you can be, but not without Jesus.  Where you get stupid reactions to stupid questions, the answer to who Jesus is is never stupid.  And it is given with an open book test, no studying to be saved, just a change of heart, taking a chance based on faith.  Hoping, and finding out that he is the truth you were looking for.  Don’t get busted by being cute...only Jesus saves.

Some choose Tom Waits’ way, they rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy.  Some would rather wait, after all they have time.  Isn’t Jesus just for old people and women?  How wrong can you be?  Thomas Watson founder of IBM once said he thought a market for only five computers existed.  Harry Warner wondered whoever wanted to hear actors talk?  Man will never fly, or walk on the moon.  The Mets will never win the pennant, and the Dodgers will be in Brooklyn forever.  Some may tell you it’s a tradition we never do in our family.  Some deny gravity, until they fall.  Do not deny Jesus.  He is fact, he is God.  Do not let other people’s opinions become a burden to you.  Going to hell is a self inflicted wound, your choice.  Jesus came to save.  Your choice.  And in today’s world, it is still a miracle.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com 

the million star motel

Perhaps the nicest motel/hotel we ever stayed at was the Loew’s Coronado Resort.  Now before you think I have gone yuppie, it was one of my accounts, and I got the employee discount.  Same as staying at the Marriott Resort in Sonoma when my son worked for them.  Again using his friends/family account we stayed at the Leland Stanford in San Francisco, and other places.  We felt it was about time he started paying us back, and his room discount was a start.  Sadly the student loans still loom over us, they may never be paid off, but that is another story...But when traveling we like to stay in old motels, clean and quiet, and priced much better.  Places where the owners greet you, motorcycles are welcome.  Where they don’t question why you ride, but want to know where your next ride is taking you.  And so over the years we have stayed in some interesting places, like the Lowe Hotel in Point Pleasant, West Virginia, not to be confused with Loew’s Coronado.  Those who know of Mothman lore and his legend may know of the hotel, and some come looking for ghosts.  And by some accounts find them, I thought  few of the guests looked a bit out of this world.  But when Theresa had woman talk to her about a picture of a ghost she had just taken, we certified her as crazy.  She had taken a picture of herself in a mirror!  How do they find me?  Another night we stayed in the Cedar Grove Mansion in Vicksburg, Mississippi, a wonderful place until the AC went out I our room, and we went searching for another room in the middle of the night.  We ended up sleeping in the most expensive room, in General Grant’s bed, and when telling the clerk the next day was told, “I’m glad someone had the smarts to do the right thing.”  Gotta love the south, then there was the week we spent one night in Hoboken, New Jersey, where the bikes needed to be guarded.  And the sign said if you don’t like the room, don’t pay, and we didn’t.  One night in Monterrey we even took our bikes into our room!  With permission of course, ever ride a sport bike down a carpeted hall?  I have.  But the gas smell from the bikes stunk so bad we had trouble sleeping.  So every night, every motel or hotel brings along an air of mystery, luxury, or premium, and the welcome a tired rider needs at the end of the day.  Some raise the bar, some so low you trip over, some you cannot give too low a score on Tripadvisor.  Like the night we slept with our guns on when the door wouldn’t fully shut and lock.   “Room service-boom!”

And so we avoid Motel 6, horrible, and find pleasant places like the Melody Ranch Motel in Paso Robles, Quality Inn in Tulare, and many other places where despite the traffic, they remember us.  And surprisingly we are welcomed back.  Motorcycles and all.  But the one motel that we avoid, the one no matter how many stars we don’t book a room at is the Million Star Motel.  Sounds promising, maybe a taste of old Route 66, but when arriving for the night I like a hot shower, watch some TV, and get ready for the next day.  The Million Dollar may have the view, just not the amenities.  The Million Dollar Motel is camping, and we don’t camp.  Give me Camp Marriott, or Camp Comfort Suites.  My kind of camping has four walls, AC, TV, and a comfy bed to sleep on.  But yet I have many friends who swear by camping, the last time I ended up swearing because of camping.  Funny the others don’t mind using our showers.  But for each weary traveler, a night awaits, some preplanned, some at the last minute, and some just along the road with a sleeping bag.  Laying watching the million stars, and wishing upon them.  To me, unlike the song, when I wish upon a star, it does matter where I are.

Solomon who was once the wisest person on earth, note he wasn’t the smartest, went searching for pleasure, which he seemed to think was good.  But found lacking, maybe too many Million Dollar Motels, maybe too many concubines, “do you have 1100 rooms for the night?” or maybe because he thought pleasure found in riches was the answer.  He found laughter and stories often strayed from truth, as bench racing was invented, along with the 150 mph Sportster,and as the night turned to morning, the stories grew in exaggeration.  He finds that pleasure is not fulfilling, please let me decide, or at least give me a chance to, just one night at a 4 star resort.  But for him it left him empty, something was missing.  It couldn’t be he didn’t have anyone to share it with, or the money to stay wherever he wanted.  It went deeper than that, and along the way found fame.  Which may get you a good table at a restaurant, but also brings attention to you.  It seemed the thing he really wanted was escaping him.  And could only be found in a relationship with God.  Today we have the chance to restore our relationship with God when we come to Jesus.  A reservation has already been made in your name.  The room is paid for, in fact a mansion awaits you someday, but you must check in after checking out.  You must put down the old things so you can pick up your cross and follow him.  And many nights you may spend in Million Dollar Motels, and others in 4 star rooms, but with him  all needs are met.  And the places you go are better than you ever imagined, or thought possible.  Yet some continue to go the same route, take the same trip every year.  Expecting a different time, and come away disappointed when it is just  rerun of last year, which was a rerun of the year before.  But as one who rides, we get excited about new roads and where they lead, just like in Christ we get excited when he takes us places in the spirit that we didn’t know about, or knew about but were afraid to go.  He has a trip planned for you, he calls it life, and he wants you to live it fulfilled, no matter how many stars.  Sadly Solomon eventually got burned out on all the things of luxury.  The rooms were nice, great food and service, but soon none of it mattered.  He needed more, and that more could only be found in God.  He could have been the first yuppie, yet he found the hollowness in things, and the comfort in someone.  Jesus is still that someone today.

Solomon ended up hating life, he became bored by it.  No excitement, nothing new under the sun as he put it.  But we know that there is something new in the son, when his name is Jesus.  We find we are a new creation, and the old man has passed away.  But we need to live like one, to enjoy all the blessings.  After my open heart surgery we travel much different.  But we still travel, and still with Jesus along.  The grass may have been greener on the other side of some fences, but there is a reason for that, and so we find places we may have passed by before.  Too much in a hurry, or places passed by on the way to some where else.  Don’t live like that, passing Jesus while on the way looking for someone else.  We all cannot stay at Million Star Motels, but we can all enjoy them when we see them from the creator.  When we look to the creator, we enjoy his creation that much more.  But you need to get out, out from the four walls of  home, of church, and of the funk you may be in.  You will never know until you follow Jesus.  Some of the best nights and rides caught us by surprise, but not God.  He had them planned, and has many more waiting.  God has given me the perfect travel partner in Theresa,  the ability and passion to ride and enjoy the open road.  Maybe now you can see why when I say “Jesus, Theresa, and motorcycles-it just don’t get any better!” means to me.  Your room awaits you, and whether four stars or a million stars, he promises you rest.  When you rest in him.  Not bad advice from a man born in a barn.  They say the stars at night are big and bright...deep in the heart of Texas, but no stars compare to the heart of Jesus. 

“Soft kitty, warm kitty, little ball of fur...”  Good night.  Sleep tight.  Don’t let the bed bugs bite.  Where I lay me down to sleep does matter after all. 

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the very first Snowdown-I was there

Mostly I remember all the snow.  Lots of it, and for days that turned into weeks, that turned into months.  96 inches at one point in 96 hours, 8 feet in 4 days for those who went to public school.  And the winter of 1978 in Durango brought out so many cases of cabin fever, that the ones who make decisions on such things decided to have a winter carnival, Snowdown.  Get all the skiers, sledders, and snowmobilers out and have a weekend party at the end of January.  And so they did, and so I became a part of it, not sure if I remember how, but they asked me to sponsor some motocross races in the snow.  So I did, and never having seen a motocross race before, had my friend Pete help, he raced.  We were given a D-8 CAT, an operator, and for an afternoon laid out a track where Bodo Industrial Park is now.  In the snow and cold, while it was still snowing.  Only to find all the markers we had laid out were buried, and the ground too hard to move.  Frozen to about 18 inches down we were told.   So in desperation, on the Friday the day before the race, we found some flat land adjacent to it, and the D-8 moved snow and anything else it could, leaving an oval track with snow berms over 4’ high in places.  We had the track, but we forgot things like a pit area, places to park and watch, and where to put the ambulance they required.  We had no idea who or if anyone would show up, and what the weather would be.  But when we rose early that morning, the sun was out, the sports and weather girl told us a high in the 40’s, we were excited.  And when we got to the track, many riders were waiting, having set up their own pit area.  The race was on!

Around 40 race starved riders would show up, we even had one guy who wrote for Cycle World enter.  He was a pretty boy, with a van and a pop up, even had pants and jersey, where as all the others were in denim and flannel.  When he started to act like he was better, he was forced into a snow berm, and put out of the race...on the first turn.  These guys rode hard...and it wasn’t pretty.  But the day turned magical, for as the sun melted the snow it formed puddles, and the earth turned to mud.  So deep in some places that the bikes would get stuck, and the last straight to the finish was 200’ of deep mud.  But it was warm, hey it was 45 degrees, and we were riding.  And as far as spectators, we had so many fans show up we had traffic jams.  They lined the track, and at first it was out of control, or seemed so.  The snow mobile race was held right below us, and as the day went on, the snow mobile racers would park along the ridge watching.  And their fans followed, with only a few hard core snowmobilers left watching.  So few that the next year they moved their race, and made parking for us and places to watch.  The fans, the riders, and the snowmobilers loved it, with the last race of the day ending when all the racers got stuck in the mud, and people jumped out of the crowd and pushed them across the finish line!  It turned out to be one of the most popular events in an area where Purgatory Ski area ruled, but once again showed the brotherhood of bikers.  No one cared about the lack of prizes, Pete and I had eaten the free Big Mac coupons we were given, they had gotten out and ridden, something no one does in the snows of January in Colorado.  The weather had cooperated, and even though it snowed again the next day, for one brief shining moment we had motorcycle paradise. 

Being there in the beginning, I wish I had taken more pictures, and saved newspaper articles.  Seems my memory is a little tainted in some areas, time will do that.  Also being in the heat of the moment as opposed to just watching will give a different perspective.  So much was going on that winter, and although survival was at the top of the list, we needed to eat those free Big Macs, it seems we cannot get enough of history and anecdotes about what it was like.  Sometimes we think that it is all new for us, just because it is all new to us.  Durango had seen lots of snow before that winter, cabin fever was nothing new, and we learned why the older homes had doors to the outside on the second floor, with no porch.  So they could get out in the deep snow.  Yet we clamor for new adventures, it seems the eye cannot get enough of seeing, the ear enough of hearing, and the mind enough of exercising creativity.  Even as we get older, the desires to see new places is still there, even if the mode isn’t.  Yet we find Ecclesiastes tells us there is nothing new under the sun, life is all a rehash of what has happened before.  Think of it as once again for the very first time, and although life can be wearisome, we cling to it.  The stories being told to the next generation, the snow deeper, the temperature colder, and we were broker.  But there has to be something else to life...what is it?  The what is really a who in the form of a person, Jesus Christ.  For God so loved us, he sent him, to be the way back to him.  He either creates or allows the circumstances that we are in, and uses them to turn us to him.  Leaving the turning point up to us, never forcing his will.  So if you are just treading water in life, bored at work, at odds with your family, or putting off buying that new motorcycle, turn to Jesus now and ask him for advice.  It is called prayer, and after asking, listen, and you will know what to do.  Scripture tells us he will give us our heart’s desire, and when you make him your heart’s desire, the blessings increase daily.  They add up higher than the snow can, and with more to come.  Seeing life through his eyes allows you to see all God has planned for us. Which beats riding on a D-8 CAT in the middle of a blizzard, what were we thinking.  It was a free ride, but got us nowhere.  Except cold.  And frustrated.  Ever fell that way, Jesus is the answer.  Yet in our restlessness we cling to anything that comes along...

So many that are complaining today about the 40+ inches of snow in Boston will later brag about how they made it through.  The afterglow is brighter than the fire in or memories.  But why not have memories of how Jesus took you through, how without him you would not have made it?  Travel, ride, race, live, or even just endure life , and when he is added in life is worth the living.  Snowdown is now in its 37th year, all the old faces except for a few are gone.  Sadly so is Terry Feidler who was the heart and soul of it, succumbing to Alheizer’s.  The memories will be replayed but he will not remember.  And when we are gone, who will tell the story, before it is rewritten gently forgetting the facts of how it was.  I was there, and Jesus is still here today.  Blizzards will come and go, spring will finally arrive, and heaven awaits those that believe.  Eye has not seen, ear has not heard, nor mind imagined the kingdom that awaits us.  There are no travel brochures, no stickers, or t-shirts.  It is all about him, and the closer to him we get, the sooner we will see heaven, with a glimpse of coming attractions from him.  Don’t wait for the snow to buy a shovel, come to Christ now.  Mostly I remember the snow, but I know it was the Lord who blessed and got us through.  For one brief moment there was Snowdown...heaven is calling, what will your answer be?  By the way, January 1979 was the coldest January ever recorded in Durango, average temp. 22 degrees!  There are those that ride...and those that don’t.  The part you play in the memory is up to you.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

remember the sabbath, to keep it football

Well the Super Bowl is behind us finally, and the season is finally over.  The promised entertainment of the ads at $4.5 million for 30 seconds are over, and the deflation of footballs is behind us.  A few months reprieve from Cris Collinsworth, Jon Gruden, and all the other ex-NFL personnel who stumbled into their current careers due to their past, regardless if they had the talent or not.  For the next few moths Sundays will start to be occupied by baseball’s spring training, Sunday afternoon rides, and getting out of the house as the calendar tells us it is February, and only 10 weeks until spring, or spring like weather everywhere.  And churches everywhere will not have to compete with the NFL for Sunday attendance.  For those who remember the Sabbath and keep it football, they will be left with one less reason or excuse to attend church on Sunday.  But as I was watching yesterday, it dawned on me that the NFL has become not only a religion to many, but also a denominational influence in our daily lives.  And for many run their Christian schedule around it, which explains Saturday night service attendance increasing on days the Chargers play at 1030am, or  like last Saturday night which was Super Bowl Eve.  But let’s take a look at the NFL, and its influence on us, and see if maybe it has become a religion, and we just don’t know it.  Or we do, and don’t care....

Sunday is considered the Sabbath, and football consumes Sundays, all day, like many used to spend in church.  You sit mesmerized listening and watching intently, taking communion over chips and soda, or something harder, and even more religious.  Like today’s media, you can hear it while traveling in your car, stream it on your computer, or go in person.  Where they demand a fee for your attendance, pass the donation plate please.  Like any old line denomination they have very set rules, a leader, and a board who makes the rules, and they are there to administer punishment when someone screws up.  In less it is one of them, and any lie out of Mr. Goodell’s mouth is considered truth.  Until the next lie counteracts it.  You either play by their rules or you don’t play at all.  Membership is available to only a chosen few, all others just follow.  Blindly.  Official product endorsements are sold, like indulgences, and the funds go to the mother, I mean father church, the NFL.  Which does not pay any taxes, set up just like it is a religious organization.  You either play by their rules or face ex-communication, unless you are popular, have a good attorney, or are Mr. Goodell.  All things are done for the good of the league, individuals must adhere or their membership is revoked, they are ex-communicated and must worship elsewhere.  Rules and codes of conduct are laid, and changed as social conditions prevail, and then their gospel is is rewritten to accommodate them.  Elders are present on the field to administer and enforce the rules, companies pay huge fees to be associated with them, and they worship the NFL, and its leaders all are held to a higher regard, but not necessarily a higher standard.  They have become like the infamous Borgias of Catholic church fame, who once claimed they could do anything with the papacy as long as they were pope.  A family tradition handed down.  But sadly like many forms of religion breaking off from God, they have become a cult.  Their way or the highway, unless you can buy your way back in.  Between the fans, the players, the owners, and all the endorsements, the NFL has chose to remember the Sabbath, and to keep it holy, if thy name is NFL.  With players becoming heroes, then gods to many who emulate them, parading around like they are Pharisees, even the signing of their name commands a fee, and their yearly rally ends in something regarded as Super, with only the wealthy able to attend.  Seems more than one cult claims entrance to their heaven based on works here on earth, and that their members prosper in earthly wealth to prove their holiness.  Yet on the day of judgment, what they did on the field and off, and who they worshipped will not keep them from hell.  “But we gave huge sums to help build fields for kids, we donated our time when available, and even the kids we fathered to their unwed mothers we never forgot, we paid our child support.”  How special one defensive back, calling himself the best, was available for a phone call when his girlfriend was in labor.  He may become a father, does he have what it takes to be a dad?  From Ray Rice and others who abuse the women in their lives, now we have ads telling us it is wrong, one ride along on a Saturday night can reinforce that.  You don’t have to be a star to be a loser.  On or off the field.  If only OJ had known God instead of self adoration, two people may be alive today.  I wonder how big the screen was he watched the Super Bowl on?  Or Aaron Hernandez, whose new locker room is an 8x10 cell.  With only a home uniform for his new home. 

Yet many will continue to worship at the feet of the NFL, forgoing true worship and missing out on a true God, just to be entertained.  To follow a sport with so many rules to not get hurt, but yet so violent it spills over into their daily lives.  And for three hours on Sunday its fans worship their team, yet cannot find an hour to worship God.  As I watched the players hugging and touching the Trophy yesterday, I saw how far we have really fallen as a society, but also God’s grace at work.  A trophy with a man’s name on it, worshipped and adored, yet a man who died for us all forgotten.  But He is patient that none should perish, even sports stars.  And when they or we turn our backs on him, he still stays close, the spirit telling us we need Jesus, despite the ads telling us we need the NFL.  In a game where gambling is illegal, but yet the odds are made every week for every game, duplicity rules, and like a double minded man, it is unstable in all its ways.  Just like a cult...and we have all fallen for it.

Fortunately we have mercy, offered for when we screw up, the condition needed to obtain it.  No instant replay, or overturned calls, Jesus gets it right the first time.  No two minute warning, when he is in you rlife you are aware of what is going on, and he matters more than time.  And forgiveness, with no fines, indulgences, suspensions, or blackouts due to the inability to fill the home team’s stadium.  God is willing to listen, and meets you where you are. He is for every one, not just the chosen ones, and we even find him in the NFL, as some are strong in their faith and choose God first.  Ambassadors placed among teams, just like many in prison minister to other inmates, and those on the street minister to others.  God is not a franchise, nor Jesus a team you try out for, your sin makes you eligible, his forgiveness and acceptance available to all.  Rookies, veterans, and even those who never played the game.  His law is love, and his season never ends.  And while the NFL struggles with concussions and looks for a new way to protect, or more rules, Jesus offers the helmet of salvation, the belt of truth, and the breastplate of righteousness, in a size that fits the person perfectly.  With no number or name on the back for identification purposes.  He knows our name....and also the score. 

In the Super Bowl only one team can win, the other considered a loser.  Everything else it took to get there no longer matters, yet in life we all can win with Jesus.  He plays no favorites, and when our playing days are over we retire to heaven and get a new body.  Ask Joe Namath the importance of new knees, or anyone with a concussion if all the pain and fame is worth it.  And now that the season is over, let me offer an invite to church.  To meet the real star, the real hero of heaven.  Long after the season ends, the playing days are over, and the Raiders move to LA, or will it be the Chargers, Jesus will still be Lord of all.  King of Kings, and still offering love and forgiveness to all.  Leaving the choice up to you.  Maybe the NFL isn’t listed on a cult list, but it sure has become cult like.  Mirroring the things of God, but with no true God involved.  Accepting a facsimile, instead of the truth.  My season seat is reserved in heaven, right on the 50 yard line by God.  Where you sit in eternity depends on whose team you follow today.  As for me and my team, we will worship the Lord...what does a man profit if his team wins the Super Bowl but loses heaven?  How sad to get to the Super Bowl and lose.  Or win and fall farther away.  No matter the sport, the wages of sin are still death. 

love with compassion,

Mike

matthw25biker.blogspot.com

 

it ran fine until I worked on it

The words “can be easily assembled using hand tools” has brought terror into many a father’s life. I know it has me, as sometimes even following the directions, I end up with something that doesn’t look like the picture on the box. And I usually end up with a handful of unused nuts and bolts....sound familiar? I used to feel intimidated by the trendy types on HGTV who can turn a pile of wood chips into a dresser, my skills supply them with the wood chips. And over the years there have been various injuries, none life but only ego threatening when I was forced to fix something. It seems somewhere between my brain and hands the message gets lost, and my hands never get. Assuming my brain ever did. And yesterday I was reminded by a friend when he told me how his bike ran fine, until he worked on it. And he is a trained mechanic, but known for overlooking the obvious. Ever go to adjust the chon, and end up with it looser? NO, turn it the other left. Or lubricate the floor under your car when you forgot to replace the drain plug after draining the oil. Leaving you no way to get to the store to buy more, or rags to clean it up. One day I offered to lube a friend’s clutch cable, and ended up with STP everywhere but in the cable, that stuff really is slick. “Have you checked the timing?” has resulted in trips to the dealer with the bike in the back of a truck. Have you ever tightened a bolt just one more turn, turning the bolt into a stud when the head breaks off in your socket, ruing both a good bolt and a $1.50 socket? Have you ever panicked when smoke started coming from your battery after hooking up the cables backwards? And finally when all else fails, read the owners manual, or take it to the shop where it should have gone in the first place. Where the joke is “here comes Mike, I guess he worked on his (fill in the blank) again.” Stupid hurts, remember that next time the door won’t pull open while staring at the push sign. Just pull the other way. Turn to the other right. Twist the other clockwise.....and hide all hand tools from me!

At Mercedes Benz I had an old tech who was experienced, but gruff. Great at fixing things as long as the human contact wasn’t involved. One day a woman came in complaining that her AC didn’t blow. He reached under the hood, replaced a fuse, and sudden AC. “How much?” she asked. $20,” he replied. “Just for replacing a fuse,” she argued. But his answer was priceless, “but I knew which one.” Maybe you can’t teach experience, but you can sure pay attention and benefit from others. I actually sat in a doctor’s office once, a friend complaining that when he raised his hands, his shoulders hurt. The advice, “don’t do it.” He also told me once all my problems were from the shoulders up, still not sure what that meant. And so many doctors, mechanics, parts stores, and those who fix things are doing quite well, or able to retire early due to me trying to fix things. Maybe the only smart guy here was Tim the Toolman Taylor who made a career out of stupid. And laughed all the way to the bank. Someone we could associate with, and laugh with, rather than having someone laugh at us, or laughing at ourselves. Nothing impresses more than stupid...except for maybe the excuses made afterwards.

God has given us a simple hand tool, it is called the Bible. After teaching the other night, a woman asked if I had any literature about our church. I got a strange look when I told her the Bible. Your church is about it, right? But form time to time I get invited to Bible studies where they are studying the newest book of how to get closer to God. The latest offering a man told me about was how to pray. A Christian for 15 years, he still didn’t get it that prayer is a conversation with God? He was looking for the secret to Jesus, yet it is no secret, and is found in the Bible. Which only works if read, which means you have to open it. Using no hand tools, only your hands. One man offered memorizing the Bible using a best seller, not the best seller. Which he was trying to memorize. Some attend self help classes, or read positive mental attitude books. The glass isn’t half empty, it’s half full, they are the opposite of half slow half fast. So many seek and never find when the truth is there the whole time. Right in front of us, but somehow escapes us. I refer to Psalm 1,

 

1 Blessed is the one

who does not walk in step with the wicked

or stand in the way that sinners take

or sit in the company of mockers,

2 but whose delight is in the law of the Lord,

and who meditates on his law day and night.

3 That person is like a tree planted by streams of water,

which yields its fruit in season

and whose leaf does not wither—

whatever they do prospers.

4 Not so the wicked!

They are like chaff

that the wind blows away.

5 Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment,

nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous.

6 For the Lord watches over the way of the righteous,

but the way of the wicked leads to destruction.

 

In today’s words, hang out with Jesus. Don’t listen to others advice, seek his. No extra books needed, read your Bible, pray and watch as the spirit leads you. Quote me on that, but quote Jesus on everything else. Not me. Meditate, think about him, read about him, pray with him. Don’t ask for opinions, deal with the truth, the person of Jesus Christ. Why read anything else but a best seller? Hey, even the pictures are good.

Lives need fixing, so be like the Psalm says. We have a sticker on our truck that says, “for some there is therapy, for he rest of us there are motorcycles.” Works in life too, some study, some seek, but the truth is only found in Jesus. Your life will only run better if you let Jesus fix it. No left over parts, no missed rides. No extra bills. Delight in Jesus, hi slaw is love, his yoke is easy, and his promises yea and amen. Lifetime warranty. And he fixes broken parts, replaces them with factory originals-he is the factory. So be like my old tech, when asked about books to read, how to get closer to God, point him to Jesus. I know which one. Now if I can only find where I my funnel is, I need to top off the oil, just a little....and I hope it runs after I work on it.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

"but the ad said $11,995!"

2014 Kawasaki Ninja ZX-14R ABS, WAS 14999 NOW ONLY 11999 PLUS FEES !!!! ALL REBATES INCLUDED EZ FINANCING - World-class Performance Meets Real World Flexibility Everything about the Ninja ZX-14R ABS sportbike is big: Big displacement, big horsepower, big accolades. Life is pretty good at the top of the heap. When you make more power than any other production sportbike on the planet, as the ZX-14R does, the character of the power delivery is as important as the actual number of horses. To that end, the surface-milled combustion chamber shapes and polished intake ports provide the benefits of racing’s black art – porting – straight from the factory. Consequently, all elements of the induction system work in a coordinated manner, maintaining the Ninja tradition of smooth power delivery.

One of the few real joys in life is riding off the dealer’s lot on your new motorcycle.  You’ve read the articles, seen the ads, and saved your money.  You’ve convinced yourself and your wife, or your mother, that it is just what you need, and the day comes when you have the money, and the bike is for sale.  Excitedly you go down to the dealer, you’ve got your money, bought a used helmet, and you are ready to ride.  But you find that there is still sales tax, and you are about $80 short on your $1000 purchase.  The dealer sees the look of disappointment in your face, and tells you to hang on, and comes back a few minutes later telling you “congratulations, you just bought a motorcycle.  We’ll throw in the tax for you as a discount!”  And both new rider and dealer are happy, both benefit, and a long term relationship is formed.  He tells all his friends how the dealer helped him out, the dealer who rides himself has made some profit, and whenever he sees his customers in public they greet each other.  He is in the business to sell motorcycles, parts, accessories, and do service.  He doesn’t get rich, but performs a critical function in the biking community.  He treats others as he would like to be treated, and the riders in town are proud to wear his t-shirts.  He operates off a simple philosophy, when both parties benefit, it is a good deal.

That new rider could have been you or me, and selling motorcycles almost 40 years ago I was the dealer’s representative, the salesman.  And we sold Suzuki, BMW, and Triumph, Norton had passed away, no one wanted Rickman, and I sold many bikes like in the above scenario.  We all rode, the dealer made money, and we all felt we were being treated fairly.  I made a 2% commission on the total sale, $20 on $1000 sale, although many dirt bikes would only make you $15 dollars.  And I got to see many faces, really their backs as they left the dealership on their new bikes.  I was introduced as “this is the guy I bought my bike from,” to his friends, and I made many new friends like that.  But things have changed, as many mega-dealerships today, are run and operated by those who don’t ride, with F&I guys like a car dealership, and as we found out yesterday, many add on dollars for the dealer.  One bike we looked at, was advertised at $11,995, a good price, so we asked for an out the door price.  “$14,500.”  HUH?  We expected sales tax, after all it is California, and to put a license plate on it.  But $969 for freight, another $1440 for set-up?  Were we being set up?  And the answer is yes to the consumer, and too many new riders pay too much and are taken advantage of by the dealer. “But the ad said $11,995,” we cry, but the unfeeling salesman, trained to ignore such replies, only insists that is the price, “do you want it?”  And many times you want it too much and pay the price.  But you are getting ripped off, as most bikes only have about a $500 freight charge, which dealers can absorb, and come set up in the crate, just flash the computer, which takes 20 minutes with them working on something else.  Say $30 flat rate....any tech would like to PDI bikes getting paid for 18 hours for 20 minutes work.  The dealer charges it, making a nifty $1400 profit, and we all pay for it.  Somewhere along the line.  Yes I understand overhead, I have one too, but why can some stores sell at retail or below and still make a profit without the above, while some claim to just get by ripping off riders?  To the customer you feel ripped off, to the dealer they feel they could have charged more,  I guess it depends on what side of the desk you are sitting on, one is shrewd, the other is deceitful.

And may you have the power to understand, as all God's people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. 

Try to put a dollar figure on God’s love, seems impossible but some do.  And with straight faces do it.  As a young Christian I was told that Christians are to prosper, it says so, the outer man prospers.  I liked that, and thought Jesus could be the way to riches and luxury.  But how would that explain the missionaries just getting by, and my Pastor who made just above minimum wage?  Were they doing something wrong, or was the Bible wrong?  Then the whole verse was explained, and it made sense, “as the soul prospers, so does the outer man.”    God changes us from within, and as we grow closer to him, the things of the world have less value.  He offers salvation free, no added on duties like some cults or religions demand.  He takes you as you are, no matter how broke, or how rich, and offers to change you.  But only with your OK, and oh how wonderful it is.  Jesus gives us the power to understand, and as we get deeper into his love, it never ends, we can pass it along to others.  The scriptures become real, Jesus lives in us, and we prosper.  We grow in grace, and if the outer man follows, that is an added benefit.  A promise fulfilled.  And when using the power to understand God gives, we can see when a deal is bad, when we are getting ripped off, and can avoid it.  Works with God, and it worked when buying motorcycles, relationships, families, finances, and careers.  Maybe Ecclesiastes says it better, “the rich man never has enough money, and stays awake nights worrying about it or counting it.”  Maybe a theme for a t-shirt, wear that one in next time you want to buy a new bike.  We behave differently when we see things through God’s eyes, he gives us the understanding, giving us wisdom to make the right choice.  And making Jesus the first choice is always the right choice.  “Seek first the kingdom of God, and the all things shall be added unto you.”  When Jesus gets the glory, you get the blessing.  How many Harvard MBA’s are taught that basic principal of business?  Now you know...feel richer?

And because you cannot take it with you, spend it ahead here.  Give while laughing, feed the hungry, cloth the naked.  Visit hospitals, and don’t forget those in jail.  Jesus never forgot you, for while still a sinner he died for you. God’s thoughts and ways are not ours, but when we adopt them, and adapt them, we see the glory of God shine through us.  Just by putting Jesus first...making a small sacrifice but not being me first.

What does it profit a man if he gains the world but loses his soul?  Death, for that is what the wages of sin are.  Jesus makes it clear, you can be born again and see heaven, even to your last breath like the thief on the cross.  Or you can die rich, and suffer in hell, like the rich man who stepped over Lazarus.  Our earthly ride will end someday...where will you end up?

Let all things be added unto you in Jesus.  The real joy in life.  Only he saves, all others just prolong the first and last payment.  The richest man is he who cannot hang onto that which he cannot keep, to gain what he cannot lose.  Hang onto Jesus, more than a philosophy, he is life.  And life is for the living....enjoy the ride on your new bike.  And life.  Just don’t pay to much.  In Jesus you never will.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com