squeeze the sponge and the water runs out

I hope you all had a great Labor Day Weekend, I did.  But how many know what Labor Day is?  Or was created for?  To make a long story short, although it is a very good long story, it was created to honor those that work in American factories.  Based upon most factories before the Civil War being in the north, the south suffered from heavy taxes on items shipped into their ports, they manufactured very little.  The grousing continued for over 20 years after and when Grover Cleveland sent troops to break up a riot near Chicago in the Pullman Plant, they made high end rail cars, under pressure of reelection he promised the workers a day of their own to have off, this long before 3 day weekends were formed to accommodate us.  And so Labor Day was born to honor workers, and today 130 years later we celebrate the day off, but not the labor.  Along with many other holidays, it is a three day weekend to party, but not to remember.  Which is what holidays were set up for, to remember an event or person.  Now the event is about the person of us....and we take great labors to see we enjoy it. 

Travelling across America we see the remnants of the American worker.  Detroit once the Motor City is now in ruin.  So are many factory towns in the south where towels and sheets were once made.  No more shoes come out of New England, and no furniture from the midwest.  Next time you see a train and notice it all containers, they are filled with goods from China, where once box cars moved American made goods, now we are an importer and consume non-USA goods.  Shipped in containers made in Korea.  In many cases we have no choice, even Walmart who at one time bragged on its American made inventory, now it is hard to find anything made here in their stores.  And we complain about the lower quality, but not the lower price.  We have learned the hard way that if you squeeze the sponge the water will run out, and we have learned to live with a dry sponge.  That water was the life blood of America, the worker, who today is dwindling in numbers.  No more great factories, or factory towns that once dotted the landscape, now we have mega warehouses filled with foreign goods.  We wanted less expensive and we got it, at a price, one we found out was too high to pay. And to many of us we remember with pride when Made In America meant something.  When Japanese goods were tinny, and products from overseas cheesy.  When shoes were made and designed by Americans for Americans, and the rest of the world wanted them.  That label meant a lot to them too.  Shirts and pants hand sewn in the Carolinas or Pennsylvania.  Cars were built in Detroit, and ruled the world.  We could afford the best, because we would not settle for anything less, but soon we began to settle for less.  The price became the bottom line, and when the bottom line got so low we could trip over it, we fell and fell hard.  Looking up for a hand up, instead we got a hand out.  But still in our pockets.  All the water had been squeezed from the sponge, and we were left with no source to renew it.  For water brings life, and we were dry.  Remember that as you get in your Mexican made Chevy, wearing Rebooks made in South Korea, wearing a shirt made in Viet Nam, and listen to a radio made in India.  Wine no longer comes from France in a bottle, but in a box from New Jersey, expensive burgers from Japan, and Mexican food has replaced the hamburger as fast food’s favorite.  We once had a Miss America Pageant, it too is gone, and so no wonder I miss America.  Give me an American made product, made by real Americans, with instructions in English.  Yet the American worker has been reduced to immigrant status, like the man applying for a job at a 7-11.  When asked if he speaks any foreign languages replies “English.”  We all want more for less, what we get is a lot less for a lot more.

Works with God too.  We want all we can get from God, and God loves to bless.  So he sent Jesus to make the way back to him, unique in all religions worldwide.  In Christianity God reaches down, we don’t have to work our way back hopelessly.  And it is by his spirit we are called.  Often referred to as water in the Bible, the spirit brings life and joy.  Peace and patience.  Yet many churches will emphasize Jesus, yet let you on your own to figure it out.  “Read your Bible, go out and do something for God,” and when you fail on your own you get discouraged.  You look elsewhere, and find a cheaper imitation of the gospel.  One that has been imported from hell, and doesn’t have room for the spirit in its philosophy.  You have replaced God in the equation, and the goods you put out do not reflect God, but your own ways.  Without the spirit guiding you, something else does.  Read the New Testament, Jesus tells us he will leave a helper until he returns, the Holy Spirit.  That even he didn’t do what he wanted, but only what his father in heaven wanted.  We are saved by his spirit that called us, and guided by it when we are saved.  The Holy Spirit is a person, a real person.  Yet after we accept Jesus, who we were led to by the spirit, we neglect that very same spirit.  And import other beliefs, ideas, and religions not made in heaven.  Some look good, even feel good.  But soon the patina of evil shows and we wished we had spent wiser.  But yet the same spirit we denied welcomes us back and forgives.  Points again to Jesus, who gives advice direct form our heavenly father.  Where the spirit of the Lord is there is liberty.  To be all you can be, really to be all you can be in Christ.  We need to go back to what made us great, and it was Jesus who took us from sin to grace.  From lost to found.  The spirit is the water that the sponge is lacking today, and we need to dip into it and become useful again.  Our lives need to be about Jesus, not us.  We need to celebrate what he has done, not what we have attempted to do.  We cannot save ourselves.  We need Jesus.  We need the refreshing water of the spirit to make us new again.  To give us life.  Instead we are offered days off, only to return to the same old drudgery the next day.  

We need to back to when our song sang out “our country tis of thee,”  not because of me.  Only in the spirit will we know the way.  Will we know the way Jesus.  And will we be reunited with a loving father who sent his only son.  Who labored long for us.  Today celebrate what Jesus has done, who never takes a day off.  We need to from work, but never should from Jesus.  Seek the spirit and the follow it to joy and peace.  Know comfort among the pain and suffering.  Be reunited to goods made in heaven, by the God who created them.  Celebrate the labor of love he sent called Jesus, and know that no amount of hard work can replace the free gift he offers.  Dip your sponge into the fountain of life, and find all you ever wanted and needed at a price you can afford.  The gospel is free and simple so we can afford it.  It is by the spirit that we can read the Bible and know the mysteries of Christ.  Otherwise it is like the instructions of my garage door opener made in Malaysia, with pictures but no words of instruction.  You guess....life is not to be guessed about.  You can know the truth and be set free....there are no uses for a dry sponge.  No matter where it was made.  But a wet one is welcome everywhere a mess is made.  Where clean up is needed. Jesus makes all things good again.  By his spirit.  Dip your life into him today.  Be fully immersed in and by his spirit.  His labor of love is more than for a day.  Why settle for a day when you can have eternity?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

doing something once twice

At this stage in life I don’t always remember my first, and I have trouble remembering my last.  Some things that used to be so important just aren’t anymore, at least to me, so if I feign interest don’t take it personal, because it isn’t intended to be.  Sometimes I just don’t care, and sometimes I just don’t care to remember.  Watching the endless stream of commercials on TV promising you that only they can find your prefect match for you, I am glad that after 37 years of marriage and counting that I don’t have to date.  Or want to.  How sad to be over 50 and dating again, going through all the dating and getting to know you rituals.  I can’t remember my first date, or my last, but I do remember many in between.  Funny how you don’t remember the mundane ones, but the good ones stand out, and the worst ones haunt you.  And for some reason, my first junior high school dance still haunts me, it was like a first date, so although many facts have faded, the scene still sticks in my mind.  Or somewhere.....

It was 8th grade, the first year you were allowed to look at girls and not be afraid to get cooties.  Skirts and sweaters were popular, and some girls were beginning to fill them out in all the right places.  And one caught my eye...so we agreed to meet at the afterschool dance.  Not a date, but a see you there....OK a date.  But true to form, it was all boys on one side, the girls on the other, with only the coolest and most mature out dancing.  Alone.  The rest of us huddled in fear of having to dance.  While I could play sports before a crowd, the thought of being one on one with a girl freaked me out.  I was later to find out I was not the only one.   So secretly making up my own approach lines, and remembering how words come out either slurred or stuttered when facing the enemy, I finally got up the courage to go over and ask her to dance.  Actually I was really pushed and taunted, although I did hold out for half the dance.  By then my cowardice was so evident, concealed by pride, but still scared.  So between songs I walked over to the other side, perhaps the longest walk in my teen years, muttering my cool opening line to myself.  Getting more nervous as I got closer, she knew I was coming, as her friends were all huddling around her and giggling-watching my approach.  My confidence was waning, when suddenly a new thought crept into my mind, and sheer horror set in.  What if she said yes?  What if I had to dance with her?  I had never danced before!  And passing the point of no return, my advance was noted and evident.  So when in earshot, within a couple of feet, I mumbled something sophisticated and mature like “wanna dance?”  And before I finished she said “yes,” the music started and the misery set in.  A high and a  low all at once.  No one told me the teen years would be so tough!  But we danced, I must have looked like hopping barefoot on hot coals, the music ended, and went into a slow song.  And I dance again...embracing a girl other than my aunt or mother.  And she embraced back!  Maybe this dance thing wasn’t as bad as I made it out to be, and after the song ended, we sat and talked.  My dancing was over, I was wet with sweat, barely putting words together to form a sentence, but I had done it.  Right in front of my friends, her friends, God and everybody.  I had danced, with a girl and survived!  She would later admit she was just as scared...And just that memory will always aid in keeping my marriage strong.  I never want to go through that again! 

Sharing Christ can be like that first dance.  You are all practiced up, got it all together, then the words don’t come out right.  The conversation becomes all about you, because your approach although about Jesus is all about you.  Face it, it is.  And all the coaching and motivation that comes from your pastor or friends won’t help.  It needs to come naturally, to be spirit led and spirit based.  The holy spirit.  I have watched skilled speakers get up in front of believing crowds and blow it, so afraid they will say something wrong.  Worrying if not perfect they will be laughed at.  And hoping their presentation is so good no one will ask questions.  Just the opposite of being in the spirit.  I know a couple who practices their presentations, and uses tracts.  I don’t.  And they get on my case about me not knowing or being prepared to witness.  I try to be a witness, it is God’s job to fill me, mine to let him.  His to guide, mine to obey.  Yet I have been persecuted on more than one occasion for not knowing the four spiritual laws.  Law vs. the spirit, isn’t there a conflict?  And they get mad.  The Romans Road?   In Rome isn’t it?  And yet because I try to follow the spirit vs. a rote set of presentations, I need help.  Now I don’t deny the needing help, but when I do the spirit is willing.  No matter how weak the flesh.  In fact the weaker I am, the stronger the spirit.  Scriptural even. 

So I find getting to know a person, learning to earn the right to share Jesus is far better.  If I truly walk in Christ, my attitudes and actions will portray him better.  I am not looking for an argument as some do, and walk away with an I showed them attitude.  I genuinely am concerned for their salvation, so I go in love. Remembering the whole time my first dance.  And go anyway.

And so I find comfort in doing something once twice.  Getting married.  Once twice, my first and only.  And coming to Jesus once twice.  My first and only.  I am getting better at knowing what to say, even better at what not to say.  Listening before giving an answer, even asking questions so I can answer better.  But when I let God lead, I find his words come out, and amazing me.  And they are effective, more than any plan I may have hatched.  But still I am least prepared to ask them to turn to Jesus.  For it is between them and God only.  Not an emotional outburst or going forward after a bad time.  It is strictly spiritual, and only God will know so the person does too.  Don’t ever rush to judgment or to prayer-let God lead.  And what if they say yes?  Again let the spirit lead.  And be ready to listen again.  God will lead.  And then do what most don’t, listen some more and follow up.  For a new convert is most susceptible.  Get them a Bible, pray with them, and follow up.  Disciple them, for it is all new to them, and may be all new to you too.  No amount of rehearsal will ever substitute for the holy spirit’s guiding. 

God will bring them along as he does us.  Daily.  And we each grow at different rates.  So be led by the spirit, and avoid anxious moments.  Let God be God, he has more experience than you, and his job is salvation.  You just get to be the messenger and see lives changed.  You get to be blessed passing on the gift of Jesus to others.  And it works best outside of church, where there are no pressures to perform.  So come to Jesus once twice.  For a first and last time.  Let him fill in the blanks.  Get off walking in the spirit today, and maybe for the first time today if saved.  How will you know you are in the spirit?  Experience tells me I know when I am not.  And others will tell you too.  But you’ll know, it is that personal.  Being a witness for Christ should never be like my first dance experience.  The spirit led you to him, now let him do it for others.  And when he lets you be a part of it, it is better than that first slow dance.  My first 8th grade girl friend was just waiting to be asked.  You’ll know when to ask no matter how long the walk across the gym floor.  You will remember your first and last love, make sure you don’t forget about Jesus in between either.  We will spend most of our lives in the in between times, between dances.   A lesson on life and sophistication from one who should know, but is still learning. The destination should always be more important than the delivery.  It’s all about Jesus anyway, right?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

one morning at Alan's

I met Alan almost 30 years ago when we moved to San Diego and I was an outside salesman.  He was one of my accounts, selling high end cars as investments.  He had done very well as an investment counselor, but due to health and hassle got out of it.  He went to selling cars as an investment, one of his loves, and soon became internationally known and recognized as a leader.  Trade papers from automotive to financial to the Wall Street Journal would contact him on the market, and he always obliged.  He only sold fine cars, high end cars mostly with a verifiable history.  I happened to be there one morning when a 1 of 2 racing Ferraris was unloaded.  Ash, one of his associates, had supposedly raced one back in Australia in the 1950’s, he reached inside and pulling back some wires, pulled out some papers he had folded and hid there some 35 years ago!  Now that certification!  His other associate was Bill, who had raced with Paul Newman, that Paul Newman.  As a racing partner he was friends with Paul, and through contacts many would invest their money in cars with Alan.  Many times some cars would trade hands, and not leave the showroom, but instantly being put up for sale again as the market was hot.  Original Cobras, open wheel race cars, Al Holbert’s Sebring winning Porsche-such was the inventory at Alan’s.  All verifiable. 

But as he grew, so did the value of the cars, and he bought a building and turned it into a fortress.  A rather high end museum type fortress.  With security and limited access, he still kept the shop in a corner.  He only sold cars, restoring them tied up money and inventory, but he kept that small shop, maybe the best supplied one in San Diego with a restoration expert on hand.  Just in case....which I kept supplied with parts and shop supplies.  I always stopped to visit with him when leaving, he always wanted me to make sure he had everything he needed.  He was top drawer all the way, first class among an industry where honesty and integrity were ill fits.  Alan was both, high integrity with honesty.  A refreshing man to work with.

But as high end as he was, there was a side to him not many knew about.  He had hired James, one of the first AIDS victims, gave him a BMW 2002 to restore at the shop, and hired him to take care of the inventory, aka keep the cars clean and the batteries charged.  I got to know James right before he died, and if not for Alan he would have died on the streets.  But Alan and I became cordial friends, he loved Theresa’s fudge, telling everyone “it is just like my mother’s” and little gestures of friendship were important to him.  Money didn’t impress him, he paid cash for a $2 million dollar  home on Point Loma on the water, and his office was like the presidents of a major company.  He drove a  365GT/B Ferrari with “VOTEGOP” personalized plates as his daily driver, and all seemed well.  But the pressures were growing again, and that’s where I met with him one morning.

Checking in with him after a call one morning, he seemed down.  He kept some old file cabinets in his suite/office, and one had an ichtus fish on it, the sign Christians used 2000 years ago.  The same trendy one still seen today.  As I sat and listened, I saw inside the man, a man who loved his church, who gave without hesitation.  Who when a problem came up didn’t need to be asked, he gave.  But as we talked it was evident Jesus was missing.  So we talked, he asked I answered for about two hours.  The phones suspiciously quiet, we sat and talked about Jesus.  Finally I had to go and asked him if we could pray, and he gave me a puzzled look.  “We can do that?  You aren’t a priest.”  And I assured him it was scriptural, I did and do often and everyday.  I suggested we sit on the hearth by the fire place and we prayed.  A very gentle prayer, and I saw this man open up to Jesus.  This mover and shaker moved by the Holy Spirit.  We shook hands, I left....God had changed both of us.

When working with the poor and homeless, I emphasize being rich does not guarantee you hell, just as being poor doesn’t guarantee you heaven.  Jesus is the only way, his words are yes and amen when he calls you.  And since God is no respecter of persons, no title, position, financial or social position, or even what you ride impresses him.  All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God, so God sent Jesus to reunite us, to be the way back to a relationship with him.  Because he loved the world, he gave his only son, his most prized possession.  And all he wants is you.  Is that too much to ask?  You see Alan had the religion part down, and he did good things as the church taught him.  But they fell short of Jesus, and because of that he never knew him.  Until God sent me that morning.  To answer questions, to share my testimony, to listen, and to love.  Alan had it all to the world, all except the peace only Jesus can provide.  He had all the success in the world, and many Christian attributes, he just didn’t have Jesus.  We prayed, I don’t know his heart, but God does.  And God loves him, and so do I. 

One morning at Alan’s changed his life, like one night running on the beach in Santa Monica did for me.  When someone urged by the holy spirit shared Jesus with me.  I needed him, I just didn’t know it.  And you do too, and now you know.  Caught in religion, but still lacking something?  Reading the Bible but not being filled?  Overcome by emotions and stress?  Are you the dog the tail is wagging?  Do you have it all yet have nothing?  You need Jesus, and can be saved right now.  Turn to him as you are, admit to sin and admit you need him.  Ask him to forgive you and let the spirit of God make you whole.  Give you worth and value.  You can be saved and become a child of God today.  I was unprepared for Alan that morning, God wasn’t.  The spirit was willing, and even in my weak flesh he moved on us.  Life is not about us, but all about Jesus, and when we give our life to him we have life.  Everlasting.  Forever.  Which is a long, long time.  Alan was a Lazarus stepped over although he was rich.  How many Lazaruses do you step over?  Rich or poor we all need Jesus.  One morning at Alan’s I will never forget.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

because I have one and you don't

Over the years I have won many awards and trophies from winning contests.  Many were from first place, but some were to win the prize I wanted.  Which surprised and sometimes disappointed my superiors, but I was going after the prize, where I finished gave me bragging rights, the prize gave me what I really wanted. I had won trips to Cancun, custom cowboy hats, expensive dinners, and shopping sprees. I had a shelf in my office and wall filled with trophies and plaques, and one day a few years ago I threw them all out.   They really meant nothing to me, except for two trophies I keep.  In a day where trophies are no longer handed out for winning, but for just competing, these two have a special meaning.  To me they represent I have one and you don’t, and a sweet and ironic revenge among my peers.  They may gather dust but the memory of them is still fresh.

Back in 2003 and 2004 Calvary Chapel of the Canyons in Silverado had a Bikerfest, a time for Christian bikers to get together and for non-Christian bikers to see we are not all Bible thumper goodie two shoes.  But also to see that underneath all the leather and denim beats a heart of love.  Except when it came to the bike competition.  There were many classes, mostly dominated by different Harley related classes, such as Best Chopper, Best custom, least oil leaking, able to move under its own power, and it seemed many were really after the trophy.  They wanted to win, to show off, “because I have one and you don’t,” a silent but apparent theme. But there were also categories for best sport bike, best Japanese cruiser, and best European.  The first year we rode together on my Sprint RS, European as it is made in England.  A quick lesson in geography for some.  When they called for European bikes to stage, I was among leaking Nortons, an old BSA that was a parts bike and didn’t know it, and some Ducatis, which were not yet the testosterone treatment for yuppies with more money than riding ability.  And among them me.  Who could care less, but entered anyway, one club member asking “Triumph is English right?”  Yes, great bikes still come from there. just as not all Harleys are made in the US of A , or Hondas in Japan.  So I entered, and later they called my name, I had won.  I got a trophy!  First place!  And with no place to carry it, I let one of my Harley friends carry it for me.  They had the trophy to carry, I had the victory.  And sweet it was, for I was so sick of lifestyle Harley riders thinking their bike was the best, the most unique, and only a Harley could a biker own.  My triumph that day was a Triumph, reminding them you are what  you ride.  And suddenly they thought it was cool to own one, not for themselves, but to know the guy who won a trophy with one. 

The next year it was on my 2002 Bonneville.  Which the larger displacement egos used to call a moped.  Until they came off their side stands, their maximum lean angle, and where even the fastest Harley was still too slow.  The jokes didn’t bother me, I can hold my own with Harley jokes, as well as Honda jokes, BSA, Moto Guzzi, and any other bike.  Only the Harley folk took it serious, as if any reference in jest was a sin punishable by having to ride one.  But when Euro bikes were called again, I showed up, again not caring, at least a little, the victory fresh in my mind from last year.  And again I won, or the Bonneville did.  Something about a thing of beauty with Triumph on the tank that attracts people.  Go to any Harley meet on it and it gathers attention from the old timers who remember them and had one.  So this victory was for them and me!  With some nay sayers telling me it wasn’t fair I had won two years in a row, what they meant was they hadn’t.  But would again carry my trophy for me.  I had a brief moment of The Wild One in me where I thought of strapping it to my headlight ala Johnny style, but better to let my friends enjoy their joy of defeat with my agony of victory.  Again I won, they didn’t.  And so I keep these two trophies, won by me, or shall I say really the bikes I ride.  And today Theresa rides the trophy winning Bonneville, you may have a trophy wife, I have both.  And the trophy to prove it!

Last year we went through a study at church “Jesus+nothing=everything.”  More than catchy words, it is true.  When you have Jesus you have it all.  There is nothing you can add to the gospel to get your salvation or to assure it.  All you need is Jesus.  No Jesus and membership, or tithes, or acts of bravery, nor acts of behaving.  No keeping the laws of Moses will get you to heaven, nor will church attendance, Bible studies, or being a missionary.  No trophies or being man of the year.  It doesn’t matter what you ride.  Only Jesus.  The other things are good, but do not save you.  Salvation is a gift that cannot be earned, lest we boast.  Read Ephesians 2 over and over, salvation is a gift.  But not forced on us, we have to accept it, by accepting Jesus.  Only in him is salvation found, no other name.  And we become his trophies, he has bragging rights to us.  “Look at Mike, and how I changed his heart.”  God loves to brag on his children.  Recall one talk between God and Satan about Job?  God bragged on him, and showed Satan his lies mean nothing when the truth is there to see.  He knows our hearts, and how we will react, so he never allows more than we can handle with him.  Without him the devil has bragging rights.  And will use any lies to prove it.  It takes the truth, Jesus to change the heart.  Driven by the spirit, we know Jesus, who is the way back to God his father.  Our father in heaven.  And we can brag because we know him and the sinners don’t.  But unlike my trophies, we don’t brag on ourselves, we brag on Jesus.  We show love, because when the heart changes, so do we.  We want all to have what we have, the love and joy, the peace and patience.  Jesus is the one thing we win that we must share with everyone.  The one prize he was willing to not give up as he went to the cross.  We have bragging rights because he saved us, he has bragging rights because he saved us!  We both win in Jesus!

In life many will win awards and trophies.  Some at the expense of their souls.  The true victory in life is overcoming death.  With a place in heaven to prove it, but leaving us on earth to declare the victory in Jesus.  When he gets the glory, we get the blessings.  So don’t keep him on the shelf, wear him with great joy.  For behind every victory, every soul he saves is a testimony needing to be shared.  To encourage, to forgive, and to let others see his love.  My salvation like many others, not what we set out to win, but like my trophies thrust me into an arena I didn’t expect.  God is like that, he wants us to share testimonies.  In Revelation, John is told to bear witness, to tell what he saw.  Do you share all the trophies of salvation with others?  Or do you claim you won them, not knowing what it took for you to be saved?  In Christ we are all winners!  Not divided by classes, only sin will separate us.  And when it comes down to it, only two classes of people exist to God, the lost and the found.  The saved and the unsaved?  Can your name be found in God’s trophy room he calls the Book of Life?

God has bragging rights to me.  Can you say the same?  Do you know him well enough to brag on what he has done in your life?  Names written on plaques and trophies may mean something, Jesus written on my heart means everything.  Everything I need, nothing I don’t.  All-he includes everything, excludes nothing.  Remember that the next time when the altar you ride and worship won’t start.  Or needs to be pushed.  Or cleaned up after it marked its spot.  Only Jesus saves.  If you are not in his trophy room, become a winner today and be saved.  I’ve won many awards, it was only when Jesus won my heart that I became a winner.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

did not finish beats did not start everytime

Having endured too many motivational meetings in my time, I am keenly aware of all the buzz words we are told to adhere too.  To say positive things instead of negative things to keep the good energy flowing, see there goes one.  My glass is half full, not half empty.  Depends on if I drank some of it, or only wanted a swallow for my Oreos.  You will often hear racers tell you “to finish first, first you must finish.”  An ode to those who are known for crashing on the first lap.  Or running out of gas like Robbie Gordon 5 miles from winning the Indy 500. Or when the going gets tough, the tough get going.  Going where?  Rushing off into the oblivion?  We used to tell others there is no substitute for cubic inches, now with smaller engines with turbos making more power, there is no substitute for higher pressures.  I guess there is a replacement for displacement.  How about winner being first loser?  A podium finish may not get you the trophy girl, but you do get to spray other racers with champagne.  Even the second place winner in a Monopoly beauty contest got $10.  I got so sick of hearing that if you don’t plan you are planning to fail I failed planning, and started doing.  Which only upset the managers, particularly when I quit going to sales meetings.  Boring, just a chance to get away from getting things done. Even Tom Waites weighed in on giving advice, saying “I rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy.”   But yesterday I came across a new one, one that I have been living based on a variation of its theme.  Simply put it states, “Did not finish beats did not start every time.”   Pause to reflect on that a moment.

I have always encouraged my sons to be themselves, which occasionally got them in trouble, and me criticized for being a lousy father.  A few years ago when Christopher decided to go after his dream of music, I wasn’t sure, but it wasn’t for me, but for him, and I encouraged it.  I told him “don’t ever look back and say I wish I had taken the chance.”  And he didn’t and now is playing around the world living his dream.  Not famous, but secure in who he is, and still chasing his dream to higher ground.  He took the chance, having parents who encourage him helped him, and I wonder if he had never started, how he would have ended up.  Always wondering “what if...”  too many live a what if life, for no other reason than that is their choice.

God has given us this incredible gift of 20/20 hindsight.  The ability to look back at a time when we were too blind to look ahead.  Losing the highest paying job in 2005 looked like a disaster at the time, but it enabled me to go on my First Torches Across America ride, and meet so many who touched my life.  If working, I never would have gone.  Meeting Father Al and becoming part of the Flight 93 Chapel led me introduce other so it, and increase their ministries.  God knew, I only saw losing my income at the time.  What I got back can never be measured in dollars.  So many of us fail because we never try-there goes one of those sayings again. Over the years we ride differently, seeing more while riding less, our eyes trained to stop when the opportunity presents itself.  And sometimes you don’t recognize the opportunity until you have passed it by, now I stop.  I check out roads wondering where they go, increasing my wandering while doing it.  I meet people, learn about local history, places to eat, and places to avoid just by taking the time to wander.  Some great rides had been passed by for years only because I was in such a hurry to get there-hurry up and wait, when I could have been riding.  I am not quite ready for the cruiser set yet, but all my bikes seem to be able to execute slower speeds when dictated by my right wrist.  Which is controlled by my mind, which I have been told is a horrible thing to waste.  So I find myself living life not worrying about the finish, but more concerned about the starting.  I eventually will get there, it is the memories along the way that I remember most.

When Bill Shakespeare wrote “it is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all,” he may have a point. At least in theatrical audiences, and in riding.  It is better to have ridden a motorcycle and lost, than to never have ridden at all.  And with many of my age group giving up riding, I hear the tales of what they used to do, but cannot any more.  Health, income, finances, and grandchildren being the excuses I hear, I counter with riding keeps me healthy, a great exercise.  What can be cheaper entertainment than a ride burning a tank of gas, going to see your grandchildren?  And giving them a ride?  And telling them stories of where you have ridden?  Sure beats the rereading of minutes from your meetings.  What stories, testimonies do you pass on, and keep alive?

Sadly I know many who are getting old because the quit riding, not quitting because the they got old.  Same with a walk with God.  Situations changed, and they didn’t.  So they stopped going to church, stopped going to Bible studies, and soon Jesus was not part of their lives anymore.  Situations dictated their walk rather than the spirit.  Where once they shared testimonies, now they offered excuses, and soon their life of joy became one of trouble.  No peace because of no Jesus.  A bad situation may have caused them to stumble, one good decision can forgive all that.  All they have to do is ask.  Maybe not backslidden as the church defines it, but people who are just looking for a way back.  And who are a great encouragement to others when they come back.

But worse are those who lived a life without Christ.  Maybe they went to church, might have joined even, but never knew Jesus.  And when times got tough, took wrong alternatives.  Some unto death.  They never got the chance to finish in heaven because they never started with Jesus.  They sought alternative methods, alternative gods, a picture of a man kneeling in pain before a BMW with its hood open and smoke pouring out shows where they chose to worship.  Alternative gods will eventually break down, leave you alone, and cannot save.  I can hug my motorcycles, they cannot hug me back.  They can hug the curves, the curves have no affection for me in return.  Only Jesus never fails.  Never.  And with the records of so many failing without him, doesn’t taking a chance on him make sense?  Why do so many who know him make it through the tough times,when others who have earthly riches worry and never make it?  Would you rather hear my testimonies or my excuses?

I admire those who at least try, even if they fail.  A wise man once told me that only successful men fail at least once.  And grow from it.  Why go to hell if you don’t have to?  Learn from those who have lost, and turned to Jesus and won heaven.  Who have been forgiven, and have testimonies.  Who ride into old age, and glide into eternity.  Who live their dream of heaven, because God leads them there.   Even those who choose Christ with a little faith are better off, even if they worry from time to time.  We are all a work in process.  It is who we turn to in times of trouble that separate us from making excuses.  How many testimonies have you passed up by making excuses?  I hope not as many as the chances to make one you have today.

A positive mental attitude will not get you to heaven, only Jesus will.  Whiners who believe inherit it too, they just didn’t enjoy the ride.  Some are just along for the ride, I choose to make Jesus the ride. And to enjoy it.  And watch as each day presents problems that he takes me through.  Not around but through.  Momentary light afflictions Paul called them.  Losing a job, facing cancer, having a car stolen, being told no.  Each one a chance for God to be God.  To show you his love, to build a testimony to encourage others with.  I have learned that every no answer means a better yes is coming.  From a loving father who loves me.  Maybe David said it best when confronted by Goliath.  “He was with me against the bear and the lion, why should I worry now?”   Even Alfred E. Newman of MAD magazine tells us “What, me worry?”  Can God speak through MAD?  He did speak through an ass once?

Country western songs remind us that a wife leaves, you lose your job, and your dog runs away.  And to find solace in Jack.  Jesus tells us you can have your marriage healed, he provides, and your dog will come home.  And to find solace, peace in him.  Of course if you don’t give him a chance, you will never know.  So maybe did not finish does beat does not start.  Start today and find out.  How many non-running bikes have been sold when they only needed gas or a tune up?   Don’t give up, give in to Christ.  And win the most important race of all, the human race.  Life here is a preparation for after life, no life here, no life after.  Jesus is life, no others are.  You cannot finish what you don’t start.  Life begins with Jesus.  With no end in sight....let’s ride.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

a prisoner's letters, circa AD 2015

To mimic the words from Carly Simon’s “No Secrets,”  “we have a cast of characters from A to Z....”  And sadly built in prejudices with it.  We are into big names, celebrities, those who when we mention their name makes us feel good, and hopefully install some envy in those we tell.  Mention all time great bands, and among them who has seen Emerson, Lake, and Palmer 5 times like I have?  Partied with the Beach Boys Mike Love?  Been on stage with Alice Cooper for “Welcome to My Nightmare?” Or saw The Eagles when they were a warm up band for Robin Trower?  Who?  See you are impressed with names, and we all still pay big dollars to see them.  But how many warm up bands were actually the big event, you just weren’t ready for it?  We saw Springsteen at the Felt Forum, warm up for Chicago, who we went to see.  Their first public appearance playing “Born to Run,” their opening song, and the place went nuts.  The album to be released a few months later.  We left shortly after Chicago started exhausted from the first band.  So as some would tend to be more careful with their money, who they go to see, some also take a snobby attitude to who they see.  And what they read.  And who they fellowship with...for example.

So many churches today write checks in lieu of physical contact with the poor, homeless, and those in prison.  They do pen pal letters, often off of a sample letter provided for them, preaching Jesus, but never getting to know the addressee.  Never listening, only talking, and they call that ministry.  Talking a language that only other church folk know, and telling each other what a good job they have done taking the gospel to the lost.  But ask them to visit, to sit with one when they have done their time, and the mood changes.  I have seen it...from those who write the letters.  They feel safe behind an address where they will never have to meet one on one, safe the addressees are behind bars, when it is them who are imprisoned by their beliefs, and when they do their true heart is exposed.  Works with pastors too, how many are much different when they don’t have a pulpit to hide behind, and literally preach to the choir?  Who never get outside the four walls of the church, and never encounter those who will never enter one?  If you can associate yourself with the above, Jesus is waiting, and will change your heart and add blessings to your life.  And you get to see the gospel in action.  Theory vs. application.  But you might get your suit wrinkled, hands dirty, and maybe even hear the seven words you can’t say on TV.  You might encounter those who smell bad, but need a hug.  Who are hungry and need a meal.  Who need the love of Jesus, not just the preaching of it.  We need to spend more time where Jesus did, outside the temple and on the street where the action is.  Where the disciples hung out, and where sin exists.  Enough exists freely within the four walls, we need to get out with the gospel and see lives changed, yet we have to change and many don’t want to.  “Don’t mess with me, I am a Christian.  I gave to missions.  I give my old suits to charity.  I’ve done my part...”  Parts, but not the whole part, the part that comes from the heart.  From pastors to church folk, are you willing to go where God sends you without a pulpit to hide behind?  Not just a once a month feel good experience, but into the core of sin and be that light?  Would you become like the Apostle Paul?  Would you?  Where were you when you found Jesus?

But the elite, those with riches look at us differently.  They like the testimonies, at least for awhile.  Then they are off to another round of golf.  Only knowing about God what the pastor teaches them, no more influence outside the four walls.  What would be your reaction if next week a man serving a long sentence was paroled and made your pastor?  No seminary, no church experience, just the spirit guiding him.  Sharing testimonies, stories, and prayers with a dying audience.  Whose words might carry less importance because of who he was, not because of who Jesus is.  Imagine such a man, writing letters to churches, and bringing sin to light, but also forgiveness and the gospel.  Suppose this prisoner was an outlaw, rebel rouser, and had been at one time a big name among the public.  But now was forgotten in jail, and now out.  Sharing his letters he wrote to the congregations....would you be interested?  Would you go to his church?  Take communion with him?  What if you didn’t know what the looked like and found yourself sitting next to him, how would you react?  What true colors would you not want us to see?  Yet this man, this prisoner wrote most of the New Testament, while in jail!  I talk of the Apostle Paul.  The original prison minister.  His words are spoken in your church, but would he be allowed?   Let’s pause so you can formulate your answer....

Many think it is nice I write to prisoners, they call it a prison ministry, I correct them.  I have a prisoner ministry with men and women I may never meet this side of heaven.  Who need Jesus, who love Jesus, and whose letters they write influence and encourage me.  Who are true ministers of the gospel, not just sayers.  They just live in a gated community.   Who love Jesus but have sinned, and God allowed them to be incarcerated.  So others may hear the word.  Just like Paul.  How many lives they touch directly or indirectly we will never know, but God does.  True ministry comes from the heart of God via the spirit through men to those who are in need.  True ministry is seeing a need and filling it.  Not directed from the pulpit, but by the spirit.  Gaining access outside the physical church, and watching the church grow outside its four walls.  Now how do you feel knowing your message last Sunday came from prison?  From a prisoner?  Who was a rebel among rebels, happy to share with another living in a gated community, just not with bars to keep prisoners in, but prisoners out.  Whose letters would you rather read?

Paul was locked up 24/7 for years, but knew a freedom few know in the spirit.  If in jail, he shared Jesus.  If in the church he shared Jesus.  With fellow Pharisees, he shared Jesus.  And through his letters from jail to a dying world, to a young church, to young churches needing guidance, he shared Jesus.  And he didn’t care who knew!  How many Tweets do you delete?  All Paul’s brought glory to God.  Face to face, rather than Facebook.  Can you imagine how big his friend list would be?  Then consider the Facebook page of Jesus, the Bible.  There long before the internet, and more impressive.  Would you pay more money to hear Steve Jobs, Bill Gates, or the Apostle Paul?  Note-you can hear from him for free weekly if you are in a God based fellowship.  Jobs is gone, still time to invite Gates. 

Springsteen lit up the Felt Forum that night, we were ready for such energy.  We were ready for Chicago, mellow tunes and a brass section.  We weren’t ready for Born to Run.  We got 10 minutes of rock and roll, maybe the best rock song ever.  And for the first time in public, before the album. 

Guards and prisoners were treated to life from an old man in chains, not what they were expecting.  They found life within a gated community, and found freedom they never knew existed.  They heard Paul first hand, we can hear his tales today in the Bible.  I was there that night with George and Paula, where are you with Jesus now?  Locked in a cage and need escape from sin?  Looking for love in all the wrong places?  There are names and there are names, none bigger than Jesus Christ.  With his gospel brought to a lost and dying world with people like us, faces in a crowd.  Who cannot contain his love for others, and choose to live him daily.  Not all gated communities have passwords, not all behind bars are prisoners.  Be set free in Christ today, get out and live for him.  This letter that will go into many prisons this week, will be read twice by guards looking for gang messages.  And hearing the gospel of Jesus Christ.  Jut because the person who it is addressed to is in jail.  Unwittingly chained to a guard like Paul was.  God knows where we are, do we?  We truly have a cast of characters from A to Z, reminding me of Jesus, the first and last.  The Alpha and the Omega.  Not all prisons have bars....know Jesus, be forgiven, and know freedom in the spirit.  Life is the warm up band for heaven...one you don’t want to miss.  God has “No Secrets. “

If the seat of your pants is wearing out faster than the soles of your shoes, you need Jesus.  You need application  instead of theory.  You need to get out and live the gospel.  Read all about it from a prisoner’s letter to the church.  He who has an ear let him hear.  “Welcome back my friends to the show that never ends..” 

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com