and leave the driving to me

I am and always have been very careful who I ride with.  From bad drivers to bad cars, to bad odors, to bad shocks, to bad directions, and bad courses chosen,  I prefer to drive or ride alone.  My wife feels the same way, but in one instance, one momentary moment of being nice, she was reminded of why.  We were visiting her sister in Novato, and some other family was there also.  Being true yuppies, they decided to go to Muir Woods, while at the same time I had in my possession an article describing the 10 steepest roads in San Francisco.  I had my favorite niece and nephew, and my two sons with me, and we followed them down the 101.  But as they moved over for their exit, we sped past, waving and smiling, on our way to San Francisco, and the hills that awaited us.  The look on Theresa’s face told it all, as she had to endure three hours of nature, while we were faced with having fun.  Some people never grow up, some are born old, she missed the kiddie car by that much...

When you think of the hills in San Francisco, Lombard Street comes to mind, but it wasn’t even on the list.  Closed to traffic now, it was a tourist trap to all but those who lived on it, we took the roads around it, and an E-ticket ride was in order.  Going up was fun, looking at the cars parked sideways, you wonder how they don’t flip over, but going down, that was scary, and took some skill.  Many of the downhill routes had stop signs at the top, where you couldn’t see over the hood of the car to where the road was.  You proceeded cautiously, hoping for the best, to the natives no big deal, to us all screaming and carrying on, it was better than the Matterhorn.  And it only went on for over 2 1/2 hours, by which time we needed to be home to eat, face the wrath of not being a good follower, and show sympathy for Theresa, who wanted to have been in our car with us.  An error in judgment to my knowledge she never repeated, so when you volunteer to drive, we rather leave the driving to me.  Sorry, but we can make room for you, just hang on....

The wheels on the bus may go round and round, but it only goes where the driver takes it.  It is our choice to get on that bus, walk, seek other transportation, or just stay home.  Not all offers are advantageous, and many have a high price tag attached that we only find out about later.  One such trip, with one such offer, happened to Abraham, when he was offered the wealth of Sodom by the king.  Who wouldn’t want to have free reign, free food, and a palace to live in?  But God intervened through Melchizedek, and Abraham said no.  He turned the offer down, being shown that had he accepted, he would incur a debt he didn’t know of, the debt of owing allegiance to the king.  An evil king, who could call on him at any time to answer, and give up his integrity.  He was wise enough that when it had no strings attached, the one with a noose you couldn’t see, and that was where God intervened.  Melchizedek appeared, then disappeared, a figure of the eternal priesthood, a figure of Jesus being there, and guiding you by his spirit.  Abraham only took offers from God, he was able to see the threat to his freedom, and wanted no man to say he had made him rich but God.  We all know what happened to Sodom and Gomorrah, good times last for a moment, Jesus lasts forever.  Abraham would have abandoned his walk with God, and lost his promise, but for the fact the spirit intervened.  Just like it does for us everyday, many times without knowing.  That’s love, a side of Jesus we neglect to see, to our loss.

Last night a man told of how he had tried to commit suicide three times this week.  But God intervened, in one instance a friend’s refrigerator caught fire and he went to her rescue.  He saved her, while God saved him.  Which he now knows, knowing Jesus more intimately than he had been taught.  “Can God cause a refrigerator to burn?” he asked.  Now he knows....so leave the driving to God.  He still allows us freedom of choice, perfect love demands a choice, so choose Jesus and live.  Inherit all the things of the kingdom, not just here on earth, or for now.  Know who is driving or who offers the ride before you get in, Muir Woods is beautiful, but the time wasn’t right.  She was just being nice, accepting the offer, beware.  For even Satan can appear as an angel of light, who wouldn’t like to win the lottery.  I rather take my chances with Jesus and his record.  No gamble here, no matching numbers, no pool to join, with him every number is a winner.  You can be too.  Abraham trusted God and was found righteous.  It was in his choices that God’s righteousness was revealed.  What do your choices reveal?  If anyone is to make you rich and successful, let it be God.  Adam and Eve blew it, Abraham almost did, don’t you.  And leave the driving to him.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

engine sizes not found on the clock

 It was while watching the clock, waiting for a friend who was always late, that my mind started wandering.  At 302, nothing, but at 327, I started thinking of the great Chevy small block.  350 reminded me, and at 400, I thought of Pontiac’s 400, at 402 the misnamed 396, and other great motors.  413, 426, and 440 reminded me of Mopar power, 454 Chevy again, 455 Pontiac, Buick, and Oldsmobile.  With each minute that went by, certain ones reminded me of the pre-metric days, when a number was mentioned and you knew the car and its manufacturer. 401 for a big AMC motor, 427 meant Vette power, 429 like my Cadillac motor, and 430, an old Ford motor used in Lincolns.  Y-blocks of 312 and 352. Famous AMC sixes of 232 and 258.  The 425 that powered the first Rivieras, and 406, 427, 428, and 429’s from Ford.  Like them, my mind was racing, and still no sign of my friend.  Which reminded me of sizes not found on the digital clock.

There were no 394 Olds engines, no 273, 289, or even 265 or 283 Chevy motors. No 360 Mopar or AMC, no 383 or 472 Cadillac motors, all like my friend not showing on the clock.  How good those numbers used to sound, The Beach Boys sand of a 409, no romance in a 7.0 litre of Ford’s.  But getting back to waiting to ride, in cc’s, many motorcycle engines were memorable.  Mention 650, you knew it was a Triumph.  1200 meant the big Harley.  350-550-750 meant Hondas, 850 talked of Moto Guzzi, 903 meant only one thing, the Z-1.  All great bikes filled with great memories, but again those missing like my friend.  185 Suzuki’s, 160 and 175 Hondas, 860 Ducati’s, another Suzuki 380, and while Kawasaki’s 636, even my three tigers, 800, 955, and 1050, all were reflected digitally, 883 Sportsters, and 675 Daytonas left out.  The numbers on the clock reflected the time, but the numbers took me back in time, to memories of great times associated with great friends surrounded by great motors in great cars.  Just kicking back then, looking back gave them a whole new meaning.  Even rear end numbers, 354, 411’s, and 413’s rekindled memories, it seemed no matter what time was shown, another time was reflected.  Oh to smell the smell of burning rubber one more time, the squeal of tires, and of the fun we once had.  All because my friend hadn’t show up on time....

Mention Psalm 23, John 3:16, or Romans 3:23 and almost any Bible reading believer will identify with them.  Numbers he can relate to, scriptures that appeal to his heart.  But yet many times we only remember that which we are taught, in 42 years I have never heard more than a spattering of Leviticus taught, and never Song of Solomon.  Both included in scripture, but not on the top 10 list.  How many have read 1 John 3:16, and relate it to God?  Romans 8, another on the list.  Psalm 1, an early teaching that God still applies to me today.  While many can tell you Matthew 6:33, how many can tell you Matthew 25?  Where it talks about us, and was the inspiration God gave me for ministry?  We read of Noah in Genesis 6-9, but what happened in chapter 11 that we need to know about?  The first Proverb I remember reading was 16:22, read it and see if it means anything to you, it does to me.  But in the process, we take verses from chapters, and let the meaning be interpreted by us, rather than letting the spirit apply it our lives.  James 5 tells of the righteous man and his prayer, yet Romans reveals we are all sinners, falling short of being righteous.  What are we to believe? 

Today a verse in Hosea, in the Old Testament, tells me so.  “I am the LORD your God, who rescued you from your slavery in Egypt. You have no God but me, for there is no other savior. I took care of you in the wilderness, in that dry and thirsty land. But when you had eaten and were satisfied, then you became proud and forgot me.”— Hosea 13: 4-6  See, we are all mentioned in the OT.  Maybe there is more to scripture than what I am/was taught in church.  Is it possible that by following the spirit’s leading, I can go deeper than ever before?  Think for a minute, if you can go that long, we all study the Bible, but when was the last time you just picked it up to read?  Without study, but just reading it like a letter from a friend, which it is, from God to you.  Maybe see Jesus come alive instead of just study material, for the only reason we study is to pass the test, then it is forgotten.  But how often reading a letter from a friend, are the words tenderly remembered.  Isn’t God’s word worthy of that intimacy?  You study to find yourself approved, but by who?  Does Jesus grade our relationship with him by how much we know?  Do we neglect the spirit who gives us words when we need them?  Do we trust what we know more than who we know? 

Try this on for size, later pick up your Bible and just open it up.  Start reading and see where the spirit takes you.  That is the rhema, the spirit inspired scripture just for that time and you.  Let him guide you through, and take you other places, some known, but many unknown.  Escape the book of Hezekiah, if you caught that one, you are better than I think, for Hezekiah is the most quoted book of the Bible, except it doesn’t exist.  Get personal with Jesus, a letter from home, telling you how much he loves you and can’t wait to spend time with you again.  Homesick for heaven....maybe it isn’t that personal yet.

Imagine how excited the first church was when getting a letter from Paul.  “Read that part about how we all fall short, and how at the right time Jesus save us,”the church must have cried out.  Read it over and over, like the letter it was sent and meant to be.  We all like getting mail, how about mail from heaven from our father there?  Just might change the way you see Jesus, and draw you closer.  For unlike the numbers of past engines, God’s word lasts forever.  You see when my generation is gone, it is no longer a 302 or 305, but a 5.0.  455’s will be 6.6, even the 327 will be a 5.3.  Or is it 5.4?  No romance there, is there romance in reading God’s word?

By the way, my friend arrived at 615 for our 300 appointment.  Just numbers on a clock to him, but much more than that to me now.  Time and motors take us back, only Jesus gives us reason to look ahead.  George on the corner has a GTO with a 389, I wonder if he wouldn’t mind laying down a patch for me....no 389 on any clock, but in my mind.....

Ah the sounds and smells.....of running on all eight cylinders!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

get over it!

We live in  world of over abundance.  Our kids are over stimulated, our government is over intrusive, we work over time to make the payments we got over extended on, and we feel over worked and underappreciated.  Hey look me over, but not to closely.  Childhood is over before we realize it.  We over invested our time in things we should not have, and got overly excited when things looked good, over depressed when they failed.  We like our eggs over easy, the pain to be over, but not our vacations.  We have a high overhead, a high degree of morals, an over abundance of blessings, and get over whelmed by it all.  We are told over and over again to plan ahead, yet we get in over our heads, our engines are over bored, our cam timing over lapping, and we make overtures to things that have nothing to do with music.  We can’t wait for it all to be over sometimes, yet when it is over we cannot believe how it all passed so quickly. We look back at things we overlooked, we are over tired, those of us over 50 look back, those under look ahead. Football games go into overtime, two way radio conversations end “over and out,” and we find our closets and garages overstocked.  It ain’t over until the fat lady sings, or as Jefferson Starship sung “it ain’t over till it’s over.”  So get over it.....

We are told game over after we lose, move over when on the wrong side of the road, and we can be over burdened by all the well meaning people all over the world.  A drunk driver is all over the road, Toto and Dorothy thought they had found it all somewhere over the rainbow, but yet the monkeys flew over them, with a surprise ending when they thought it was all over.  When we lose we are told to start over, we over exaggerate our own self worth, we are told to come on over and visit, some are overcome by guilt, and some never get over it.  Over and over we are told what to do, even Marty King told us “we shall overcome,” and some are over come, over whelmed, over used, and over taken by life.  Kids are happy when school is over, so are teachers, and just when you think we have it made, we find we are over the hill.  When we lose our hair, some are happy for the comb over. So many things are over rated until you lose them. 

We must be over 18 to vote, over 21 to drink, and over 65 to collect Social Security.  We are over weight from an over abundance.  We are warned “over my dead body,” after we are in over our heads.  We can be head over heals in love, sing, My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean, spend a day playing over the line, and get sun burned from over exposure.  Our enemies may have us over a barrel, and we get hung over from to much drink.  And with warnings everywhere of the world may soon be over, what is a person to do? 

The word over is used over 1100 times in the Bible.  From Genesis when the spirit hovered over the earth and gave it life, to Revelation 20, speaking of life again by the spirit, how the second death will have no power over us, God is over us all.  He sent an angel to Passover those who trusted him, he rules over our enemies, we are told that mercy triumphs over judgment, while those who give themselves over to lewdness fall short of his glory.  Jesus fed over 5000 twice, and before we cross over to the other side to heaven, he will bless us poured out, shaken and pressed down, an over abundance.  It was when darkness had over taken the earth, that when things seemed darkest, that Jesus gave his life, but was to raise from the dead and triumph over sin and death.  He was and is the king of kings and Lord over all the earth.  He has given his angels charge over us to protect and guide us, even the sign over his head on the cross told him to be “JESUS KING OF THE JEWS.” 

Even when Job was overwhelmed, he knew God was over all things, even though his wife told him it might be better if it was all over.  Was it not God who told Moses to stretch out his hand over the waters to make them part?  On the seventh day of creation, didn’t God himself look back over what he had done and find it good?  We find his hand stretched out over all the nations.  So maybe if we just put our hand over our mouth the next time we fail to trust or believe God, when we turn it all over to him we find the blessings overflowing.  Our choice, yet if you choose to not trust him, he will give you over to your troubled heart.  When it is all over, where do you wish to be found?

So think it over, and consider God for a minute or two.  Give it all over to him, and watch as he turns over the blessings of his kingdom over to you.  He wants to bless us, why do we stop him?  If only 1100 times he gives us evidence in his word how he loves us, and is over us, what makes you think one more will convince you?  Jesus’ last words on earth were “it s finished,”  it’s over.  He won the war, but we still have battles to face.  In him we have overcome the world, his love will never be over rated.  Over time he has proven himself worthy over and over again.  Yogi Berra once said “if you don’t know where you are going, you might end up somewhere else.”   When this life is over, I know where I am going.  Crossing over to the other side.....hope to see you there.  “10-4, over and out.”

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

doncha know?

After spending a night in Appleton, Minnesota, home of Mets pitcher Jerry Koosman, where all the streets are named after vets who gave their lives in foreign wars, we were off, heading east, where it was getting darker by the minute.  Hungry, we had only had a burger and fries at the only place open at 9 last night, but that stayed open for us.  So the quest was for food, blue skies, and maybe not in that order.  Now Minnesota in the western part is very rural, with towns popping up when you need them every 25-30 miles, not counting the general store or two along the way.  It brought back memories of my first trip west in my van in 1975, after spending a night in a parking lot of a gas station, I woke up to find it was a gas station/bowling alley, with a bay of each.  People are more resourceful in the country, and today I hoped the resources involved a big breakfast along with great weather.  We found the breakfast, the rain found us.  But outside Montevideo, the road split and we weren’t sure which way to go, so we flagged down a state trooper.  Young, they all are at my age, and polite, he pointed out the better of the two roads for riding, and also a place to eat.  All in that Minnesota accent we all love to imitate.  When we were leaving, Theresa told him “I like your accent,” and with a smile he added “I like yours too.”  Only other people have accents, not us right?

Growing up in the New York Metro area, I heard a lot of douse and dees growing up.  “You’s guys” and sentences ending with there, as in “what cha doin’ there?” or “c’mon here, there.”  Which was a bit different from my relatives in the Poconos 60 miles east, who would call each other Old Beauty, and begin each new sentence with say, as in “say old beauty, been down to the park?”  Also they when calling us kids it was “come here once,” which I never got.  All English, well sorta, all in America, and all somehow understood by us foreigners, those from New Jersey.  And then coming to California things got gnarly, we went to the beach instead of the shore, tacos had fish, and English was a second language many places.  As in the interview that took place at a 7-11, where a man was looking for work.  When asked if he spoke any foreign languages, he asked “yes, English.”  “Say old beauty, doncha know we’re going to the beach there?  Come here once....”  Only in America...

As a newcomer to being born again, I was deluged with Christianese, a new language to this previous heathen.  Born again, ask Nicodemus for a full definition.  I was saved, but from what?  I was to walk in the spirit, I rather ride.  I was told not to be legalistic, I was under grace, the only Grace I knew was a girl.  I had been offered salvation, would need to be discipled, learn to evangelize, spread the gospel, have eternal security, be justified, sanctified, and purified, learn God is omnipresent, omniscient, and omnipotent.  I had been reborn, redeemed, reconciled, and regenerated through my repentance.  I used to walk in the flesh, now walked in the spirit, and had been washed in the blood.  I had been shown mercy by the messiah.  And you wonder why some first time visitors never come back to church?  We speak our own language!  When Jesus spoke only one, in Arabic of course, but his language was one of love.  Which translates well into any language.  Doncha know?

And so I learned to take the Lord’s supper, communion, at the Lord’s table, the altar, and do it in remembrance of him.  I was told that a great tribulation was coming, but because I was saved I would be raptured out.  Only those not saved would be left behind, to honor and worship the antichrist, who would be empowered by Satan.  And that Jesus would finally destroy him on the battlefield of Armageddon, locking him into the lake of fire and brimstone forever, along with the beast.  All I wanted was to be free from sin and forgiven.....

The great thing about love is that it is universal, and from a loving God.  A love we cannot fully describe, because words in any language fail to reach the full depth of it.  We try, we teach, we memorize, but there is nothing like experiencing Jesus first hand.  To be given understanding in the language we speak, from the holy spirit, who knows all things, and comforts us.  Comfort I can dig, after 40 years I still flounder, not the fish, in Christianese.  When all I really need is the language of love, Jesus Christ.

Hungry at closing time, God provided a drive in to stay open for us.  Unsure of a direction in the storm, he provided a patrolman with knowledge.  Hungry, he took us to the right diner. Spoken with different accents, but with one accent included in all, love.  Which must be experienced, and cannot be taught.  No degrees in love, sorry Pastor, DD, you may have a title, do you speak the language?  Maybe a quick lesson from a Samaritan, who showed love for a beaten man, a stranger, while the religious me avoided him.  His actions spoke of love, a love beyond words.  What do your words tell others?  Can you stop talking church and show some love? 

The gospel is simple so we can get it, free so we can afford it.  That’s good news, that’s love, the gospel of Jesus Christ.  Show some in your native language today, and if you find that gas station/bowling alley, let me know.  It again was a place of refuge one night for a weary traveler.  A place without name, but full of description, if only I could find the words.  Heaven will be the same, for eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor mind imagined the kingdom of God.  Some use words to describe, God showed love.  If you can describe his love, you haven’t got the full effect.  Learn his language today, and when asked “where ya goin’ dere?”  just point and smile, “heaven.”  If only I could find the words.....just make sure you know the person.  His name is Jesus, doncha know....

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com