the curse of the clean bike

My neighbor on the corner has 6 cars, four of them collectible.  On any sunny weekend, which we have lots of here, he can be seen polishing and detailing them, then backing them into the garage, while putting covers on the other two.  Hidden from view, never on the road.  I cannot remember the last time I saw him driving any of them, they are in great shape, just never used for their intended purpose, to be driven.  Which may explain a lot of today’s collector car market, they are collectible investments, and the theory of high miles versus low ones has made many an owner a prisoner to his machines.  But in today’s market a new, more realistic class is emerging, cars that are used and have patina, gentle aging.  And are mostly original, or customized as they were in the day when they were new.  And now are bringing high dollars, because that is how we remember them.  Gentle aging, like we would like to have our lives be, although I never thought of myself as collectible. 

Now with 6 motorcycles occupying my garage, I could have fallen into the same trap, collectability.  But when I bought them, I bought them to ride, and I still do.  With over 300,000 miles sitting with two wheels under them, they have memories of past rides, and dreams of future ones.  My 2006 Tiger just went over 100,000 miles, and I use it for my daily rider, except when I ride my 2005 Bonneville, which only has 74,000 miles.  Theresa’s 2002 Bonneville has just under 80,000, and is being ridden weekends again.  Christopher is back from Spain, and is riding the Street Triple, with 36,000 miles on it, which I use during his times away, to keep the battery fresh.  The 1978 Suzuki GS1000 sits on the lift now, only for storage purposes, ridden last moth 600 miles in two days, just under 30,000 miles from new.  And the newest bike in the garage, a 2007 Tiger 1050 just went over 10,000, 3000 on a week’s ride last June.  You see, my bikes get ridden, and maintained, and although not perfect, are clean, and look like new.  They get exercised regularly when not riding Triumph press bikes, and like Mickey tells me, they last longer when they are ridden.  Just like us, when we get out and live, we last longer, as opposed to sitting around getting old, and wearing out from not being worn.  Much different from my neighbor’s collection, I ride mine.

It seems he has come under a curse we all go through, but I pulled out of long ago.  Call it the curse of the clean bike in my case, car in his.  After the first rain, it can take hours to get it back to how it once looked.  The black engine turned gray, pipes not as shiny, wheels need polishing and you can never get where the rain did to get it clean like it was when new out of the crate.  Pull off a tank or body panel, the grime is there, and for many, they avoid riding in any weather because it will take a toll on their ride.  The patina of memories is unacceptable, so they sit unused, like their caretaker, going nowhere.  A while back a friend asked why I am in so many of our traveling photos, my answer was simple.  I rather be in the picture than taking it.  I rather be read about than reading.  I rather have a patina of high miles and high memories than low miles and perfect paint.  Each scratch on my blue Tiger can be remembered, the time and place.  And how.  When we look at old photos, we can date them by what we were riding at the time.  And suddenly the 2006 Tiger is the blue Tiger, or remember the road on the red Sprint.  The ride to Canada on the yellow bike.  We want to remember the good times, the good rides, and who we rode them with.  And personally I don’t worry any more about that first scratch, that first rain ride, or the high miles.  A collectible is only worth what you get for it when sold, my memories on two wheels are so valuable they are not for sale, and couldn’t be purchased if they were.  Many go to shows and have their pictures taken by a vehicle, maybe even sitting in it, or on it.  Mine are from where we have ridden, and what we have ridden.  When Karl took the pictures of the 220hp Rocket I had this summer, I got to ride it.  I was in the picture.  He took it. 

So I have risen above the curse of the clean bike, at least for now.  My most recent bike, the Tiger 1050 has never seen rain, but I know it will have to if ridden as planned.  The miles don’t come without times of rain and hardship.  It is the hard times, the storms in life that bring us the best testimonies, yet we resist them as much as possible.  Give me 85 degrees with sun any day over 40 and rain, yet in the flash floods I saw more of God.  I had to call out to him, I had no choice.  Not riding those days was not a choice.  I find it interesting that the first words of Jesus recorded in the gospels is a question, “what do you want?”  Asked in John 1, we see John with two other future disciples, hearing that Jesus is the lamb of God.  Interesting that Jesus got right to the heart of life, his few words speaking volumes.  Have you considered what you want from life?  From your cars or bikes?  When confronted about Jesus, what do you say?  Have you ever considered what you want?

Ironically enough it was the who asking what.  For it is the who you seek, that is the pathway to what we want.  Psalms tells us that God will give us the desires of your heart.  Is he your desire?  He offers the free gift of salvation in Jesus, is he the what you are looking for?  Consider Adam in the garden after he sinned, did he consider what he had done until God asked him “where are you?”  When someone calls and asks for directions, the first thing you ask is “where are you?”  From there you can be given direction.  So ask yourself, where are you in Christ?  What do you want?  And the journey begins, led by his spirit.  Now you can be directed.

You see we don’t really know.  Until we are asked.  My neighbor worships his cars, they own him.  My passion for riding allows me to have many bikes, but they don’t own me.  They are a part of me, and away from me have no value to me.  Same as with God.  My passion for Jesus runs deep, but I don’t own him.  He owns me, but his best concern is for me.  His passion is me.  And mine is him.  When he gave me the desire of my heart, it was and is him.  All else is added on.  He is the most important part of me, and away from me I have little or no value.  He is what I want, peace, love, security, and assurance of heaven.  On earth as it is in heaven, like the prayer says.  He can be my Lord here, I don’t have to wait for death to see heaven, I get a glimpse of it everyday in him.  The what is really a who, the who of Jesus Christ.  And in his garage of souls, we are all high mileage, need cleaning and maintenance, and need to be rescued and saved.  To be used out in the public, in life sharing our testimony of him, not sitting covered or in a museum.  We need to get out and ride like he did, spend time out on the road where the action is.

I don’t want my life to reflect the curse of the clean bike.  I have scars and bruises, there are dings and things that need to be fixed.  All from life.  But they were obtained from living and riding.  So maybe the first question Jesus asked in the gospels needs you to answer it.  What do you want?  When it is the who of Jesus Christ, you find life.  And that it is worth the living.  Just because he lives.  So get out and become part of the memories, get in the picture instead of behind the camera.  So it being a rainy day today, I will go and do the right thing-I will wash my bikes in the rain water.  Dry them off in the garage after.  Nothing cleans like the rain, and no fragrance is like the fragrance after the rain.  Now, which clean bike do I wash first?

Life will always be filled with questions?  What do you want?  Where are you?  In the midst of the storm, Jesus is there.  Start a new testimony today.  I’d like to see the pictures, but only if you are in them.  With him.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

one afternoon checking into our motel

After a long day of riding, or in this case driving, it was good to see our motel in sight.  We had reservations, which assured us of a place for the night, but also give us flexibility in case the road is still calling, or we find a new place in another direction.  But with a feeling of assurance provided by reservations, we travel.  And this night was to be in Angels Camp, with a reservation, and we arrived just in time for me to be fourth in line.  The first girl in line was complaining about a room key that didn’t work.  The overworked single employee made her another, those lousy credit card keys, and off she went into the night.  I assume it worked as she didn’t return.  Next in line was a logger, who’s company had made a reservation for him and a room mate.  Who would arrive later, but was told by the same girl behind the desk he had checked in yesterday.  Which was impossible, as he was in another state then, so getting his key off he went, sans room mate, and he didn’t return.  Two for two, and the room was filling up behind me.  The next in line was actually three generations of an Indian family, with an interpreter, all in pajamas except the interpreter.  They had gotten into their room, changed, and left in their pj’s, why was unexplained.  But were unable to get back in, another key problem.  The sad faces showed they had no idea of what was going on, a face many of us shared.  But the interpreter got them a new key, and off they went.  My turn....

And after showing a credit card and picture ID, the official greeting of motels everywhere, she had the paperwork with a key attached ready for me.  Room 209 was written on it, but checking with her computer, it told her 212.  Theresa was waiting out in the 26 degree dark night, so I took my chances on 209, which turned out to be 212, someone was already in 209.  So 212 it would be, and was, and with the door locked behind us waited for a knock from another misled guest which never arrived.  Nice room, and we were in for the night.  Proving once again the value of having reservations, of knowing your destination, and not having to sleep in your car.

God has made reservations for us in heaven, based upon Jesus Christ.  When we are born again we will receive a mansion in heaven upon death on earth.  Assured by the spirit, but yet we send ahead requests.  What we want, forgetting that scripture tells us eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor mind imagined the things of heaven.  Whatever you think it will be, it will be better.  A few weeks ago a man asked if animals would be there?  I don’t know, the important thing is will you?  And you can be assured of that by letting Jesus into your life as Lord and Savior.  It takes Jesus to change our hearts, and it is via his spirit, not on our own, he does.  Yet we cling to what we can see or feel, forgetting what we see is temporal.  Only the spirit will last forever.  It takes a loving God to change our hearts, he loves us as we are, but sees us as we can be.  And the final destination is heaven.  For all who believe.  So the question is, do you have reservations in heaven?  Where will you spend eternity?

Ever since the fall of Adam in the garden, it has been man’s desire and God’s will for us to reunite with him.  Jesus is the way, simple so I can get it.  Free so I can afford it, and we are given the spirit to guide and lead us.  To a day we do not know, but know will occur.  For just as we must die to self to be born again, we must physically die to inherit a spiritual forever.  And while life may seem like my afternoon waiting to check in, God is ready.  And while here wants us to serve as travel agents for a heavenly journey that is only found in Jesus.  We may be the only Bible or travel brochure others ever read about him.  Do you have your reservation?  Do you want to go to heaven but cannot afford the ticket?   It is free, a gift, to be accepted or rejected.  Your mansion is ready, are you?

When the spirit comes upon us it changes us from the inside out.  The things people see in us, the things of God.  Salvation is an easy check in, we just need to wait for the day to enter.  But what a relief knowing we someday will,  sure beats looking for a room at the last minute.  Maybe there is something to this reservation idea.  And you can be assured today in Christ.  Confirmed by his spirit that he gives us to assure us.  Something not seen that will disappear, but something intangible that we know is with us, but cannot be seen.  The forever God changing us and providing a room.  Something Jesus promised to all who received him.  More than emotion or anything external, it goes deeper.  And cannot be explained.  No words yet found to describe the infinite God using finite words.

Make your reservation now.  Confirmed by his spirit.  Knowing he is the key, and no one can duplicate that.  No mixed up rooms, reservations, or being locked out.  When God says yes he means it.  Will you join him today?  The spirit is willing, the flesh is weak.  Jesus isn’t, join him today.  God is light, and he leaves the light on for you.  Call it the parable of the motel check in.  Where you spend eternity is up to you, no ID required.  We live with the assurance of a reservation in our name.  Next!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

where have all the old motorcycle commericals gone?

Sometimes it seems I am on every seller’s mailing list.  I get all kinds of weird offerings, from male enhancement drugs to how to live to be 100.  Not related, but are they?  And they just don’t cram my inbox at Christmas, but all year long. One site I have not unsubscribed from recently started a blog, and although I have never bought from them, because of their ad today I will.  It featured motorcycle ads from the 1970’s, a time long ago to many, but within memory’s grasp for me.  And my riding.  Dominated by Kawasaki, they advise us to let “Kawasaki let the good times roll,” and they are very catchy.  Enticing to the point of taking a ride down to the shop just to sit on the new models and dream.  How many of us when younger did just that, staying just long enough to assure the salesman that we were interested, and when we did buy it would be from him.  My walls were covered with brochures, even my school notebooks had them stuffed inside.  While some of the less mature kept Playboy centerfolds stuffed in their books, mine were of Honda 350’s, the new BMW /5 series, and of Kawasaki’s Mach III.  Girl’s curves were OK, all right better than OK, but curvy roads leading out of town and to unknown adventures kept me sane while waiting for class to end.  BMW advertising “a ball with no chain,” to Suzuki’s “shout hallelujah get on Suzuki,” to Honda’s “follow the leader, he’s on a Honda,” all promised sunny days, curvy roads with no traffic, and the perfect riding partner with you.  But that was so long ago, and there are no longer very many ads for motorcycles on TV.  Of course Harley, Victory, and Indian all can be found on Velocity, and other motorsport related channels, but long ago they were on prime time network offerings.  Right there after Rosie told us Bounty was the quicker picker upper.  She obviously never rode, as motorcycles were a quicker picker upper when it came to dates.  Still are today.  Leave the mess for later, I’m going riding!

So let me refer you to the Bike Bandit Blog, and the 10 Most Memorable TV Commercials of the 1970’s.  These were great, and from kids riding to police chasing and stopping a station wagon to return a kid’s toy, even John Travolta rode a CB200, paying for a fill up with change, how could you not resist the urge to ride?  And so many of us did, and still do.  The good times still rolling after all these years, with many memories of riding with friends, wives, or solo, but never alone.  The thrill of the open road is a call that many have answered and thanks to the commercials can relive.  Harley asks “when did it first happen to you?”  And your answer is.....

And in response to the ads, many of us succumbed, mostly buying used bikes that needed work, and could only be ridden for a few miles at a time.  We learned mechanics, and how to reinstall master links, install plugs after cleaning, and adjust chains.  None of the good times we were promised from the ads.  But in these basic maintenance functions we became more intimate with our bikes, through bruised knuckles and bleeding fingers were learned grease, any grease stopped the bleeding.  What size band aid would fit and not impede our shifting, and jus how far 30 cents of regular would get you.  But when I bought my first new bike, a 1972 Honda CB350, for all of $825 out the door, the world of riding changed.  No longer was a ride interrupted by sessions on the side of the road, we rode until we went on reserve, filled up and rode some more.  We had become the riders in the commercials, the good times rolled no matter what brand, we met the nicest people on Hondas, and that someday when you will own a Yamaha came for many.  All because an advertisement drew us into motorcycling.

For me when friends started talking Jesus to me I blew them off.  I was having too much fun to be restricted by religion.  Too many rules and “thou shalt nots” for this guy.  I had learned of the freedom of the road, and didn’t want anyone or anything or any other God to interrupt.  The ads for religion all showed such clean cut, goody two shoes going to church, where was my long hair and leather jacket going to fit in?  Can’t ride to church anyway...or can you?  I still find Christian ads today not so much for me, as I do Christian movies.  Too pure, with no real problems like we see in the world.  Torn prom dresses, not getting accepted to State, or missing the big game on TV fall short of drugs, crime, unemployment, and financial ruin.  Real world stuff, we don’t see in ads, but hear only in testimonies.  We are told in Revelation it is by the word of our testimonies and the blood of the lamb we are saved.  We are the advertisements, the commercials for Jesus.  Each with a different testimony, giving veracity to Paul’s statement of how he became all things to all men.  He started relationships with others, the stories he could tell.  Maybe the ultimate bench racer when it came to testimonies.  And people listened then, and they listen now to ours.  Just an invite to church is so impersonal and lazy, but when you can share what Jesus has done for you....well....

And for a time I was an advertisement for Jesus.  Wore my Christian colors, Jesus t-shirt, even had fish stickers on my car.  And wondered why many would avoid me, until I stopped wearing them, and these types starting bothering me.  They were so busy prosletyzing they cared more about their argument than they did me.  It was when the spirit revealed that people will only care about how much you know, after you show how much you care that my witness became more effective.  It was about Jesus, the message the gospel, and my actions would tell more than my words.  Add in attitude, and just visiting, becoming friends, and caring can be more of a gospel message than chasing them off after reciting John 3:16 over and over.  You see Jesus calls us friends, he was a friendly guy.  Do we act like that?  Has you Jesus shirt become a warning to other so lookout and run away?  If ads got us into bike shops, what ad are you showing to tell others about Jesus?

This Sunday we will have our annual Chocolate Birthday Party for Jesus.  Bikers both Christian and non will attend.  As will those from church, met at rallies, work, and other places.  We invite them in, and they see that as Christians we have many things in common with them.  Only we have Jesus, and in our words they will see we are different.  Let the spirit change them, you just deliver the message.  One of love and courtesy, show compassion, and watch.  Jesus will do all the things your back patch or bumper sticker can’t.  We care, and I hope it shows.

Be that ad for Jesus that invites them to listen.  The spirit is calling, you just might get to be the messenger that day.  Only Jesus saves, we don’t.  Maybe I shouldn’t ask where have all the motorcycle ads gone, as each one of who rides is an ad for riding.  Just as each Christian should be an ad for Jesus.  If no one is answering your ad, maybe you need to change agencies, let the spirit  dwell in you.  Motorcycles provide a freedom that no other way can, except Jesus.  For where the spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty.  What does your riding show others about you?  If only we cared as much about how much our lifestyle tells others about Jesus.  The only way to let the good times roll.  When did it first happen to you?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the two days of Christmas

Don’t you just love it when someone mentions a name and you cannot remember or don’t know it?  And the you try to weasel out of it, but only get in deeper?  Yet they know you, and worse yet, all about you. Now if I mention the name Matthew Beard, I get a bunch of confused looks. But if I mention Stymie from the Little Rascals, your ears perk up, and a smile comes to your face.  This bald headed, black kid in the bowler hat is instantly recognized.  He was funny, and fun, but also quite the philosopher.  And in one short, where the Rascals are in a field, with each rubbing a lamp making wishes, they had just been told the story of Aladdin and his Lamp, they were wishing for things.  Stymie’s request was simple, “I wish there were only two days in the year, Christmas and Saturday.”  A wish I have had many times, of times that I don’t want to end, with subtle changes.  Torches and Saturday.  The Hollister Rally and Saturday.  The 4th of July and Saturday.  My birthday and Saturday.  You pick your own days, and as kids we looked forward to both.  Times of no more pencils, no more books, no more teachers dirty looks.  Times of waking up way too early, to see what Santa brought you.  Times when all the cares of the world went away, and you put your thought process on hold.  They were days of great expectations and of fun.  With the anticipation sometimes better than the day.  It may rain on Saturday and you cannot ride, so end up bench racing with friends in the garage.  And of course a name comes up, and each one tries to remember who it was.  They may not remember the name, but they remember the event.  Or the time.  Each with a different story to tell, just like each has a wish, it’s that personal.

And Saturday and Christmas are personal.  But each for different reasons.  We look forward to Saturday from Sunday morning on.  Counting the hours sometimes while the teacher drones on.  Christmas comes but once a year, and we count the days, with the help of Christmas ads telling us how many shopping days we have left.  With some making lists and checking them twice, hoping not to forget anyone. But in the hassle of the season, brought on by families, what to get everyone, office parties, and finally the big day, we forget about Jesus.  So God in his infinite wisdom, often not interpreted because we don’t have infinite understanding, has given us two days of Christmas.  One for the Jews, one for the Gentiles, and two that Christians can both celebrate. 

So many get bummed at Christmas, Christians leading the way because the focus is off of Jesus as the Son of God.  I tire of hearing “the he really wasn’t born on December 25th,” and evidence is there to support both sides.  But a few years ago the spirit enlightened me to an understanding, one of who Jesus is, and why God has given us two days of Christmas.  Remember that Jesus is Jewish.  And that Joe and Mary were traveling to Jerusalem for a census, at the time of Yom Kippur, the day of atonement.  And Jesus was born in Bethlehem along the way.  Giving rise to many Christmas songs.  What better time for the savior to come into the world than on the Day of Atonement, to atone for all the sins we couldn’t atone for ourselves.  So the argument against December 25th has some validity.  But remember Jesus was/is Jewish, as were his parents.  And the Jews believe life begins at conception.  Go back nine months from September, and we are in December...say around the 25th?  Is it possible the Jews who don’t believe in Jesus as the messiah, or celebrate Christmas have given us insight to the day we celebrate?  And a loving God has reached out to all, both Jew and Gentile with two days to celebrate the birth of his son?  Has God presented knowledge of his son that only with divine wisdom we can understand?  He tells us the spirit reveals the mysteries of Jesus, could this be another one right in front of us we have overlooked?  Maybe a good argument, or a tool to make those who deny the 25th of December a reason to consider the truth about Jesus.  And maybe why scripture never defines the date, but only the time and the season. 

But to those who believe and are saved, we get to celebrate everyday.  Everyday in Jesus can be Christmas or Saturday.  Even every seven years when Christmas comes on Saturday, and robs those of Stymie’s persuasion of a day, we have everyday.  So next time someone starts talking down on Christmas, remember we have 365 days a year to celebrate, the world only offers one.  Or two if you count your birthdays, but don’t as we get older.  God gives us everyday through his son, and two Christmases to celebrate.  Giving the Jewish festivals new meaning as they reveal a loving God to us.  And we see Jesus in each feast.  And he gives the presents!

So Merry Christmas to all, every day!  But especially on December 25th, so the world can see the love of Christ through us on that day.  And on Yom Kippur for the Jews to see the savior we worship, the one they are still waiting on.  But celebrate Jesus everyday by living in him.  For the others to see.  They not only miss out on the real Christmas, but the blessings of God everyday.  You don’t have too, so maybe Stymie’s wish can come true and it has.  Jesus is the reason for the season, whether it be summer or winter, fall or spring.  Live it and love it, knowing that we have two Christmases to celebrate, the world only has one.  Now when I mention Jesus, what do you think of?   And now you know the rest of the story.....

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com 

just when you think you have it all figured out

We don’t have very many rules at our house, but we will let you know when you break one.  In a society that is so hung up on rules, regulations, laws, and other factors to control us, it is nice to have only a few rules to live by.  And with less rules to obey, that also leaves you with less rules to break.  Which helps keep me out of trouble.  But here are a few rules of our home, just in case you happen to visit, and want to avoid persecution, or prosecution.

Barney Fife once said the Mayberry jail had two rules, “first rule is obey all rules.”  Works here, except for variations on a theme, of which we will remind you.  Ask anyone in our family what our first rule is and they will tell you “never argue with an idiot because you will never win.”  Proven over and over by me, so don’t argue, and to take it one step further, if you never argue, you will never lose.  Somehow a lesser opponent will wear you down long before you wear them out.  Your adversary knows you better than you do.

When you come into our home, we want you to feel welcome.  That old Beverly Hillbillies invitation of “take your shoes off, set a spell, y’all come back” works here.  But really if you do make yourself at home here, we don’t have to wait on you.  And we expect a bit of courtesy if using the refrigerator.  If it looks like I might eat or drink it, avoid it.  See rule #1.  

The next rules have to do with lifestyle, aka riding.  The first is if you can’t put gas in it, I don’t want to drive or ride it.  We once owned horses that I couldn’t ride.  Those suckers knew it and my last ride was hanging on while he raced to the barn, with a cattle guard between us.  He stopped, smarter than me, maybe why I won’t ride anything I cannot put gas in.  But why would I want to sacrifice all the horsepower of two wheels for only one?  Now I admit I admire Roy Rogers racing after the crooks on Trigger, but Roy still has to clean up after him. So I’ll stick with my rule here.  With one exception, I will not give up my manhood for a Prius.  Transgender, I mean hybrid cars do not interest me.  Either one or the other.  Loud pipes save lives...please move your Prius from the fast lane at 45!

My next rule to live by is if I can’t ride there, I am not interested in going.   Still waiting for the bridge to Hawaii to be built so I can visit the 50th.  I don’t mind flying, I only find it a waste of time.  And miss out on the ride.  Talking with a man a few years ago we had been to many of the same places.  Only he had flown, and only seen the airport, and the ride to the hotel.  And anything else a preprogrammed tour took him on.  He was bragging until I started mentioning places....seems the best ones you find by yourself.  Do you really go on vacation to spend it with other tourists?

If the bike starts, I ride.  And if it won’t, jump start it.  How many starts to a trip have been interrupted at the last minute, when if you maintained your ride it would start?  And how many times has a cold morning forced you into the car, your choice, only to regret it later?  Things are different in a car, and Theresa makes fun of me when I wave at bikes passing by.  No such laugh when I try to lane split her Mustang.  Some of the best rides started out when cold, removing layers during the day, ending up in perfect weather.  And too many have ended up with “I wish I had taken the bike...” when they do.  And you can always park facing down hill if you have to bump start it!

But the number one rule around here, is really a question.  In any decision you have to make, where is Jesus in it?  Too many times we have it all figured out, or think we do, and God throws a curve at us.  Rather than get upset with him, too many folks first action,  maybe ask “where is Jesus in the decision?”  We book rooms along the rides, but have become very flexible.  The scripture tells us “as you go” share the gospel, and as you go consult God on your ride.  We have missed detours, and also ended up in situations we didn’t know about and were blessed because the spirit guided us elsewhere.  Works on the road, also when planning.  And works in everyday life.  Today we will make decisions, all based on the one before it.  If you don’t know where you are going, how will you know when you get there?  So why not consult the spirit first...and enjoy the ride.  Without worrying about it.  Constantine once said “trust God and enjoy life.”  Good advice, but then why do you worry?  Just when you think you have trip planned, the day all laid out, something intervenes.  If it somehow doesn’t fit into your box, maybe God is trying to show you something.  To draw you closer.  Live outside the box and in the spirit.  We miss times when God is trying to make a breakthrough in our lives when we don’t ask a simple question.  So, where is Jesus in your life?  Who do you say he is?  Ask yourself, you may not like the answers others offer.  Why worry when you could be blessed instead?  Nothing takes God by surprise....can you say the same?

So maybe Barney was onto something when he stated his first rule.  Jesus gave us only one, love him first and then others as ourselves.  It is easy to find fault when we are upset with ourselves.  So find peace in Jesus, listen to his spirit, and avoid the laws of man.  One law, love Jesus,  and then all other things will be added on.  So trust God, and if you want to argue with me, remember rule #1.  Sometimes I am that idiot, references upon request, and you won’t win.  So where is Jesus in your situation?  Love, a rule I wish we would all obey more. 

And anyway, I can’t hear you with my full face Arai on anyway.   Maybe the best decision was to leave the car home after all.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com