Lord, he was born a Ramblin' man

When my Grandma started driving again in the early sixties, she bought a used, pink 1955 Rambler American station wagon. From Ronco Rambler Motors, and Pat Ronco, sales manager, janitor, service manager, racer, and the owner. And when she bought her successive Ramblers, a blue 1962 American 2-door, and finally a 1969 Rambler Rogue, she went to Pat, and Pat knew what she needed, and would say "this is the car you are looking for, Mrs. Mohn" and without pushing it on her, he was right. For my Grandma had confidence in Pat. And pat knew his customers. When the car wouldn't start early on Sunday morning in knee deep snow, Pat would come and take care of it. And even when he was into his seventies, he would still respond to my Grandma's roadside request, and other's like hers. To her, he was American Motors. And even though the tag on her car said made in Kenosha, the relationship with the factory began and ended with Pat, he was the factory to her.

My parents bought three cars from Pat, and I can remember going with them on Saturday mornings. An old brick facade, painted silver with red plastic letters, the highlight for me was the shop. The back shop to be precise, and walking past the huge, sliding doors, the smell of old oil, gas, rubber would fill the air, an ambrosia to those of us who liked cars. You see Pat was a jalopy racer, and R-12, his race team, was where the jalopies he raced at Nazareth were kept. Silver and red, like the building, Pat was the factory to Grandma, but was racing to me. He always seemed to be coming from that back room with R-12, and I don't remember ever seeing him not in overalls and with an unlit cigar in his mouth. Somehow behind the overalls and cigars, this man was Rambler. A Ramblin' man if you will.

Just down the road a mile, was O E Labar Hudson. A working Hudson dealer,who never turned in his franchise when Hudson joined Nash in 1954 to become American Motors. He had new parts still on the shelves, and ads in the showroom about the new Hudsons. Serviced his customers like Pat did, and even kept cars on the floor, which he was glad to show me after he found out how much I loved Hudson, too, and wasn't just some kid wasting his time. It wasn't my fault American Motors was formed the day I was born in 1954. "This was Mrs. Roth's car," he would say, "she traded it on a new 1953, that had belonged to Mr. Reimer, who sold it because his wife wanted a convertible," and that was how all his cars were referred to by their previous owners. No units or stock numbers, for his customers, and their cars, were real people to Pat and O E, whoever he may be. From date of purchase, through no start in snow storms until the time to trade up, and then onto its new owners, they were precious customers, and treated with respect. Both dealerships a true anachronism, dealerships that should have died in fifties, but still were alive, on life support, into the seventies. From the factory parts, to the two rare 1947 Hudson pickups he used to haul coal and car parts, to the cars on the floor, he was a Hudson dealer, even if Hudson had died 20 years earlier. Personal service, on a Mr. and Mrs. basis. Signs of a simpler time, a living museum to both Hudson, Nash, and Rambler until both men died, and with them their businesses. Along with a whole generation who were used to service like Pat's. Sadly, no one left to take their place in the communities they served faithfully for so many years. No more deals made on a handshake, or free jump starts in the snow, and only the memories of past super service to share with others.

We are told to trust God, and not lean on our own understanding. A great example found in Pat. I can't tell you about him and God, but his honest attitude to my Grandma and his customers, allowed them to trust him, and stay his customer for life. No way would she ever have bought any other car except a Rambler, and only from him. Their relationship was built on trust, she knew Pat would always give her the right advice. And I find today, that to walk strong with Christ, to call yourself a Christian, takes the same kind of trust. The trust that when you get bad news, that the same God who made the body will heal it. That he knows you when you're sleeping, and awake, and doesn't care who may be coming to town. His love is real, and He wants to be your God for life, and forever. I could never imagine my Grandma questioning Pat's judgment with her Ramblers, but yet we quarrel with God when we don't get our way. "Wait," He'll tell us when we ask, but in our impatience we fret, and only after we disobey see why He said it. "No, my son," gets greeted with a why from us, which really means "don't you get it God?" When really all we need to do is trust God, trust His word, trust the Spirit, and lean on Jesus. For like Pat, He doesn't want to lose you as a customer, and sad many have turned away when they don't get their way. And end up with a lesser god, at an impersonal church or religion, and never enjoy the love and blessings God has for them.

I have heard God is always there when I need Him, and can vouch for that. But will go on to say He is even there when I don't realize I need Him. Closer than even a prayer, He is 24 hour life service, never late, always on time, and always has the right parts and tools to fix my problems. Remember that next time money is tight, or health issues invade, or when your marriage is suffering. He is there for you! Take His advice, for Godly advice only works when taken. And be a frequent visitor to His dealership. Stop by parts, look at the new models, and go to the back of the shop with Him. Behind every old facade once beat the heart of a dealer like Pat. Don't let the facade of the world change your attitude about God. He was there in the beginning, and will be around long after the end. Stay close to Him, He has stayed close to you.

My Grandma always trusted Pat with car problems. Isn't it nice to know that God cares about all our problems?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

blue highways-you're welcome

For years I have been telling people about our travels across the US of A by taking the old back roads, Blue Highways, William Least Heat Moon calls them in his travel diary of the same name. Roads not usually taken anymore since the Interstate Highway System has by-passed many of them. Roads that take you to places the freeways can't or won't, and with each little town you pass through a memory just awaiting you, if you have the right attitude and the time. Places that are referred to as before the four laner went in, or By-Pass, or local traffic only. Roads that take you past buildings like Bate's Motel, and you wonder, naw, that was just a movie, wasn't it? Or places where only local old pickups are in the gravel lot, and you wonder if their Home Cooking sign really means it. Is that really bacon and coffee I still smell at lunch time? Places where the sun and rain has weathered the signs so bad they are almost unreadable, but just follow the grooves in the road to tell you that you are heading the right way. A ride in a time and place where neither matters, where each turn takes you to new experiences, and new people. Little towns where the local drive-in thrives despite the new Burger King next door. Where Chubby Chucks outsell Whoppers, and always will. Where Friday nights, the DQ is still open late for those who need a Blizzard before bed, after a late football game. Where teens still cruise the lots, trying to look cool. While the girls pretend not to notice, and giggle. Places that don't show up in any government demographics, almost as if they and the people don't exist to a bureaucracy. Except at tax time, and when it comes time for elections. Where the proper answer to thank you is "you're welcome," and not "no problem." And you wonder why I wander away from the freeways?

Since we have abandoned much of our history of manufacturing, and become a service oriented society here, service has taken on new meaning. Leaving messages that may not get returned, or being put on hold when you call the emergency number listed, are foreign to many of these areas. It is not unusual to see lights on in many old service stations well after closing, and hear the air tools and the sound of repairs still going on. Maybe helping a neighbor get ready for their trip tomorrow when something broke at the last minute, which is when they usually occur, or helping some stranger, out of luck and money, just get back on the road, that much closer to their destination. Places where Frank at the Bi-Low will refer you to his friend, then call him to tell them you are coming out, even though they are closed, just to get gas. And finding Willy, his friend greeting you, and staying to talk, then calling his friend at the motel, to get you a special rate on a room, since it is too late to ride any further. America we used to call it, and before we pushed buttons and got a recording when the phone was answered, before GPS systems got us lost, and before we became too sophisticated to smile at strangers, this is how we lived. And how I still choose to live-home or away.

We were in Santa Barbara, with Brett and Jeff from Vegas, and Tom and Karin from San Diego. Our friends Milt and Jackie had ridden with us for awhile before their V Max seat threatened to cripple them, and had turned around in Coulterville, on the way to San Francisco. It was Memorial Day weekend, and we were getting into our motel in Santa Barbara way late. So when I phoned ahead, I was told no problem, I'll leave your keys under the mat. We'll settle up in the morning. And left the hot tub on for us!

The next morning Brett noticed the master link on his Ninja was missing. With no shops open on this holiday Monday, he was about to go into panic, when I decided to talk to the owner of the motel. He and his father in law were finishing some carpentry work, and stopped to call to see if anyone was around. No luck. Then he suggested, "I have a friend with a welder at a body shop. How about I call him and see if he can tack weld the link and you won't have any problem?" Which he did, and which he did, and which we were all thankful for. And the welder friend wouldn't even take any money. He was glad to help, and all involved told us to stop by next time in town. Can any billboard or ad ever be more effective than friends helping friends? Word of mouth...

When we are taught about the Good Samaritan, I always think of these guys. New friend or old, it didn't matter. There was a need, and they met it. Gladly, sacrificing time, and money to get the need met. And the pay, knowing they did a job and did it well. More talk for around the dinner table that night, and new friends they didn't have yesterday at this time. If you see a need today, meet it. God would not have let this person in your life if He didn't want you to help. Be a good American, no, be a good Christian and show love to strangers. Be a friend to a stranger, for we were once all strangers to God, until Jesus showed the way. Do unto other, as you wish them to do to you. When the phone rings, pick it up. And like the two truckers in Ohio assured us, we'll "git 'er done."

Jesus got 'er done on the cross. Is it too much to ask to extend that love to a stranger? Among the many franchises out there today, I don't see one on love. Start one. Small investment, with big rewards. Oh, you may never get rich, but that will also save you on taxes! But you will never be short of friends.

Give thanks to Jesus, and wait to hear His proper answer. You're welcome, my good and faithful friend. Welcomed by Jesus, any problem with that?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

it's spring-only six more months til summer

Although the calendar says spring, seems the weather hasn't caught up to it yet. And even here in So Cal, the weather has been chilly, in the 40's at night, and only low 60's during the day. And it seems our cars know it too, as they take longer to start and warm up. Today when you go to start your computer controlled fuel injected car, you turn the key, wait up until seven seconds, think one Mississippi, two Mississippi, etc, which can seem like forever and then the car starts. And while waiting for your seat warmers to warm your tushie, you can finish shaving, put on your make-up, or make that important gossip call, while driving away and your car warming up. But life has not always been so tough, it used to be tougher.

Before computers, we had carburetors. If you are old enough to vote, plus 15 years, you may know the old procedure. Fumble with keys with gloves on, kick the accelerator twice to set the "automatic choke," turn the key until it starts, then sit and shiver while the idle races high and the car warms up. Don't even try driving away, as all the bucking and shaking would make even drinking that last cup of coffee-we weren't latte addicts yet, impossible to do without spilling. And on the rare occasions when it didn't start right away, give it more gas and hope you didn't flood the engine and it wouldn't start. A strong smell of fresh gas was a dead give away you wouldn't be starting immediately. Then you sat, getting mad, but warming up because of it, car still not running. Again.

The first car I owned was a 1969 BMW 1600, with a manual choke. You pulled out the knob to activate it, then turned the key and it would start. Only in extreme cold did you give it gas, and then monitored the idle by adjusting the choke. In many cases after a few seconds you could drive away, with the idle roaring high,but the car running smooth because of all the gas you were pouring into the carburetor, and what didn't burn went down the cylinder walls. Washing away the thin film of oil that was between you and a new engine. But you were moving, and didn't think about that, or the consequences. You were on your way, and if you were going more than 20 minutes, your car would be warmed up by the time you got there. And would repeat the procedure at the end of the day when the sun had gone down, and it was cold again. Perhaps, looking back progress wasn't such a good thing, but somehow it has just gone on too long.

No matter the situation, our lives run the same way. Hot or cold, we react to input, and our reactions sometimes are more important than our actions. And dictate our next action. God has given us His spirit, think of it as a personal computer available to guide us through all situations. But just like cars of old, and new, it all is up to us via the gas pedal. The throttle, which controls how fast and where we go. But He leaves it up to us to use the throttle, hopefully correctly. And His spirit is definitely the way to go. We don't know what is going on sometimes, and definitely not what is ahead. God does. So let His spirit, the Holy Spirit guide you. No more automatic chokes not working, aka your own understanding, and causing you other problems. No more manual chokes, where you have to make all the adjustments, and decisions. You can rely on God, and when you add throttle based on His input, you will have a smoother ride. Not necessarily a smooth ride, but a more controlled ride. For He knows the road, and where the potholes of life are. Where dead ends and detours will lead. And how best to avoid or get through them. He knows all the things you need, and makes them available to you, but the decision is yours. Once given the advice, it is up to you. For like your throttle, it depends on you for input. And how much throttle you are giving it. And Godly advice only works under one condition-you apply it!

Start your day by spending time with the Lord. Even while waiting for your car to warm up, listen for Him. Then listen to Him. God offers this free driving tip at no charge or obligation to those who ask. Think of Him as AAA for the soul-He was a trinity long before the three A's came on the scene. And can be accessed at any time, in any situation, with no member number, or card. Just you and Jesus.

You see, although the calendar says spring, the weather says winter. Don't rely on your own understanding, trust God. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct your paths. Now where have you heard that before? What a great saying, can't believe some advertiser hasn't picked up on it!

Proverbs 3:5. Found in the owner's manual for life. You may now start your car. You did remember to turn off the lights last night, didn't you?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

doubting the truth doesn't change it

We had just finished dinner at our friend's house, when we were offered a tour of his neighbor's house. To say it was large is an overstatement, perhaps a testimony to poor taste, bad planning, and overextension of finances would be a more accurate statement. The owners, obviously feeding an ego that was short on restraint, had built this gigantic building, the bedroom alone was over 2800 square feet. An Olympic size pool, and with enough garages to service cars at a dealership. It was obviously built with no plans except to be large and intrusive-and with no sense of style or design. Not even one room was near completion, it had all the warmth of a before picture, or an in process one, but unfortunately this house was done. In more ways than one. Impressed only by its sheer size and poor taste, he took us to the garage. Where he proceeded to show his helicopter, in the same shape of the house-incomplete, and various cars in the same condition. And the only vehicle he had that was running was a GSXR 1000. Which he claimed would do 220 mph, see the speedo numbers, he had pinned the speedo. I doubt it. Maybe if it was in kilometers,which would be about 140mph! At which point , I not only lost any respect I may have had for this guy, but any credibility also. And rather than argue with him, I invoked Mike's #1 rule, never argue with an idiot, because you will never win. If ever someone fit the rule, I had met him.

Talking with Mickey, who has built motors that set Land Speed World records, he told us the fastest he and Ray had gone was 168 true mph, and that was after the last few mph took over three miles to attain. And they both should know, as the truth was better than any lie they would be told. So I will stand by their story, rather than Mr. Bigger Than Life's lies. It can be dangerous to wake up someone when they are sleepwalking, and don't know it.

Doubt, it has been said, is a subtle force that erodes the foundations of truth. Have you ever seen something yourself, and when relating it have someone say "I doubt it." Ruins the story, and most are too polite to realize they have just been called a liar. And by one simple statement, they don't have to prove their point, but have cast doubt on yours. And your credibility. And it is usually uttered by those who dwell in specious tales, rumors, or innuendos. And truth be told, they don't want to hear the truth, as it offends them, and exposes their lies. And creates more excuses when they are challenged. Then the lies really start to fly. And in these situations, Mike's #1 rule is always the best avenue of escape. So is putting on your helmet and riding away. Does anyone ever believe these guys? I doubt it!

Maybe you have heard about the Mayan calendar and setting the date for the end of the world? Why would you believe a race of cannibals that don't exist anymore? And the billboards for May 21st-the latest end of the world. Seems this group can't figure out how many days are in a year, and repeatedly guess wrong. Credible? I doubt it. And movies like 2012, questionable predictions by Nostradamus, people who dabble in numerology, and others who operate on the fringe of truth, but never enter it, are out more than ever. Something is going on, and will happen. That's true. But God is in control. And you cannot change His schedule, or His reasons. But many-those who doubt the truth and rather live a lie, are trying. Sometimes not realizing they are influenced by the father of lies, the devil. But often are. And whenever the Bible is mentioned, go beyond doubt, and into anger. Fighting against the only truth that will set them free.

A prophet by Bible standards has to be right-100% of the time. Or should be stoned to death. Something to consider if you are espousing these falsehoods, and believe that the law is the only way to live. With over 400 Old Testament prophecies about Jesus fulfilled, it may be easier to just say all when you answer how many have been fulfilled. And as all lies are based on truth, these end of the world tales are distortions of the book of Revelation. Yes, the world is heading towards a climax, when God takes all His believers out of the world. That is the end of the world for Christians. But not for those who disbelieve, scoff, or doubt. And the worst seven years of mankind are about to begin, God even takes it down to the amount of days, just in case your years have a different amount of days than his. And then after the last 42 months, or 1260 days that are the worst ever on earth, will begin a 1000 year reign of peace. Then the end-finally.

So you see, depending on which end you are looking for, your wait may be longer than you expect. Or shorter. I find the truth has always set me free, and so trust Jesus. Who doesn't even know the time or day, for like a Jewish bridegroom, is waiting to be told by His father the day to get His bride and consummate the marriage. And in case you are wondering, the church is the bride, and Jesus is the bridegroom.

Will disbelievers be fulfilled? I doubt it. Will those who believe be disappointed, I doubt it. And while waiting, remember that God promises no man tomorrow. Something to think about today. So next time you are told a lie about the "end times," simply say "I doubt it." No explanation, just walk away. Argument won. It is up to God to change hearts, so let Him. And take heart that to lose an argument, all you have to do is be involved. And remember rule #1 while riding away.

Will I see you in heaven? If you haven't given your life to Jesus here, I doubt it. And I won't be around to argue with you-no doubt about that! Have I made you my enemy by telling you THE truth?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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how about dem apples!

I don't remember any apple trees on Algonquin Drive. But on the way to school at Shackamaxon, we would take a detour through Sweeney's yard, and they had about a dozen of them. And on lazy days, and summers, we would stop and climb them. They were perfectly suited for climbing with their lower limbs, and of course the apples were there for the picking. I can't remember any warnings as a kid about not eating green apples, and so we sure ate our share. And it seemed, the higher we climbed, the better the apples were, with the best ones just out of reach. Seems there was a lesson there.

But as we learned to climb higher, we got braver, defying the staggering heights of 10-15', until we would get chased down, then resume our climbing another day when they weren't home. We actually got up pretty high, and would get pretty brave. And by hang jumping, we would get higher each time, and somehow the ground didn't seem quite as far away. Funny how ten feet up is closer than ten feet down! Especially through the eyes of a young boy.

But secretly it was about the apples, and we got pretty good at picking which ones to eat. It seemed the bigger ones were tastier, and that required more climbing, which was OK by us. And by shaking smaller branches, could get to those we couldn't reach. Rubbing them against our shirts to shine them may not have effected the flavor, but it seemed a shinier apple tasted better than a dull one. And then stuffing our pockets, or the baskets on our bikes, we would head home. I can't remember ever eating these apples at home, they were strictly early road food. But we would take them anyway. But there was one thing, one thing we never did, we absolutely never ate the apples that were on the ground. It was an unwritten rule the best ones were on the tree, and no matter how big, or even shiny they were, and easy to reach, apples on the ground were to be avoided. And you could tell the older ones, as they would get soft, and were great for throwing against a barn. And sometimes you would get grossed out when you would find one with an entry hole for a worm, but no exit hole. And although you rarely saw a worm, you never wanted to be the one who found the worm, whole or half, inside by biting into it. And so the thrill of the climb rewarded us with better fruit, and time spent hiding in the branches with apples to eat. Free apples. Safe in the ignorance that green apples were fine to eat. What a difference today!

"Abide in me, and I will abide in you," Jesus tells us. And when we do, we actually bear fruit. For He is the vine, and when we eat fruit from His tree, we become like Him. But sometimes the tree gets pruned, so it will grow better fruit. And it is tough, but the fruit you produce is better than before. But some choose not to abide in the vine. And they become like the apples that have fallen from the tree-soft, mushy, and useless. But they don't realize it, and they don't realize that they have stopped bearing fruit, and are dead to the things of the spirit. Growth and change are not part of their life, and they become harsh when others change. They don't realize that their relationship with Jesus is based on growing on the vine, and joining with Him and others. And three times in my life, when I have stayed on the vine, while others didn't, I grew and they grew too-only they grew bitter.

When not on the vine, you are on your own. And soon become legalistic, following rules instead of God. And whether it is a church, pastor, denomination, or an organization, you follow them instead of God. And soon you begin to eat the fruit that has fallen from the tree, and worse yet, begin to like it. Maturization is an ongoing, and sometimes slow process, and those who bottom feed don't realize how they are rotting from within. But those abiding in Christ do. And the two just don't mix. The one in the spirit is about God's work, and bearing fruit. The other is about their club, and is loyal to it first, thinking they are in the will of God. And soon, life in the vine continues to bring you closer to God, and you find when in obeyance, sometimes you move on. While they stay behind, safe in the knowledge that they are right, for your enthusiasm rubs them the wrong way. They become critical, and soon turn within, to each other. And end up without God-He has not left them, but they have left Him.

I have found following God to always be the best decision. And don't expect an easy ride. But expect an exciting ride, which is just like climbing higher to get the better apples. And as you grow, you meet others who age maturing in Christ, and you are able to relate to them, and with them. Leaving the legalistic not knowing what is going on. Stuck in a performance based relationship, that they set up, not God.

Listen to God today. He wants you grow in the vine, and abide with Him. To get all the blessings He has for you, and to share His love with others. In both cases, the decision is always yours. Be brave and trust Him. Not getting fed at church, ask Him and He will guide you. The ministry you are in isn't, trust God. Then obey. Desiring more from God, ask and you will receive. Wanting to get closer to Jesus-the spirit will guide you. Make your allegiance to God, and not some group or person. Repent, and turn to God. The apples are waiting for you.

And pray for your old friends, who only have each other. Pray for a revival in their hearts, and lives. Offer them in love, fruit that only comes from above. And stay away from their bitter fruit, that comes from a legalistic relationship. Where the spirit of the Lord is there is liberty. Freedom from the law, and a joy that is never ending, but always growing. Fresh fruit from above.

Let those that choose to live by laws eat of its fruits. Be the apple of God's eye, and enjoy it in pies-always ala mode. The best, the freshest, and always available. Eat of God's garden every day. Just hanging out with Him, among the branches. With others, in the spirit.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

just for the taste of it...

Well, it's official. Saw it on CNN, so you know it's true. Diet Coke is the #2 selling soft drink in the US of A! When over 25 years ago we were told that someday it would pass Pepsi, we thought it was hype, but now it has become reality. diet Coke, note the small "d," has passed Pepsi. When brought to market, Coke was afraid it may fail, and bring disgrace to the iconic brand Coke, so they gave it a small d initially, so in case it did it wouldn't tarnish the name Coke. They already had a horrible tasting, but best selling diet cola named TAB, but chose the name to distance itself from Coke. Certain names are never compromised. A name above all names in the soft drink world.

But as Pepsi ran their challenges, and both their sales increased, diet Coke took over in certain markets. They used to compare the take over to Houston, where Dr. Pepper, the official soft drink of Texas, outsold Pepsi, and watched as diet Coke did the same. Never showing the fear they had internally in case it failed, but claiming all the credit for victory when it succeeded. Humility among victors is seldom seen, and totally absent here. But as the total soft drink market shrinks, and diet Coke's grows, they have a proven formula for success. And where is TAB today? Making a comeback, just don't look for that vile tasting drink in our fridge.

The Pepsi Challenge was a good thing for both companies, as every time Pepsi ran one, Coke sales increased, too. Coke's response, if there wasn't a champion, there would be no challengers! And many would try, but like the ads proclaimed, Coke is it! And now diet, or should I say Diet Coke is too, #2! Not a diet formulation of 7x, the recipe for Coca Cola, but its own formula, changed, or improved many times over the years. And like Coke found out with New Coke, not the capital N, don't mess with the original! And so we have Classic Coke!

In case you haven't noticed, there are many out there to steal your joy via cults, lies, and their false teachings. Who challenge the deity of Jesus. Some deny the deity of Jesus Christ, even though they use His name in their name. Blasphemy! The Jesus in their title is not the one in the Bible. And they know it, but will lie and tell you different. Beware of kids on ten speeds, spreading this false doctrine. Who by the way, are prohibited from drinking Coke. Some deny the existence of heaven, telling their followers when you die, you die. But animals have souls. And denying the deity of Jesus. Openly, and not even claiming to be Christians. No love shown, as they will even excommunicate their own children if they break any of their rules. Now that's love, but not God's love, or any other I know.

For you see there is a challenger for the souls of men, Satan. And he doesn't care how he does it, just so you don't acknowledge Jesus. Whether it is full denial, full worship of him, falling unsuspectingly to his lies, or just using his favorite tactic, getting you to wait, he is out to destroy lives, and keep people from heaven. Subtleness is his game, and destruction is his end. Don't fall for it. Nothing he has to offer can ever compare to Jesus! Seek the real champion of Good Friday, and the first to be resurrected. For we who believe will be resurrected like Him. Choose anything else, and it means death. Choose Jesus, the real thing. Not a diet savior, He paid it all. No need to settle for a substitute, when you can have the real thing.

Satan too knows that if Jesus wasn't the champion, he wouldn't be a challenger. And since the time he was expelled from heaven, has been challenging God and God's people, sometimes winning. But God ultimately wins, and no challenge will ever challenge Him. Seek Jesus today, resist the devil and he will flee. Some challenger, huh? Jesus Christ-the king! Join His kingdom of believers today, and when the challenge comes, you know who wins. More filling, tastes great. For over 2000 years, the true champion. Let God be God, and all others liars!

Bet you never heard that on CNN? Capital J in Jesus, small d in devil. Never confuse the two. Classic love from the son of God. Maybe, just maybe, there is something to this man Jesus after all.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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cruisin' around with a decal on back

A Gold Wing rider asked me the other day "did I take my motorcycle with me when touring?" He didn't understand how you would ride it to your destination, but ship it instead. After all, this is a big country. Confused at first when I told him how exciting the ride could be, and how the trip can be more fun than the destination, I think it may have opened up some new trip opportunities for him. Let's see-touring bike, rider, and 48 states. Sounds like a good equation to me, hope he does-soon! Ride that is.

When The Beach Boys sing Be True to Your School, they sing about "cruisin' around the other parts of the town with a decal on back," so the other kids know where they are from. I can remember once seeing an SPFHS parking sticker on this girl's car, pretty girl who I didn't recognize. Looked familiar, but couldn't place her. Then seeing her again at the pool, in her bikini and no glasses didn't help matters much. It was only after her embarrassing me by telling me her name, that I knew her. She used to sit next to me in Biology, and wouldn't let me get answers from her. Sadly she remembered me. Now I only wish I could have gotten her phone number, as seeing her at the pool gave me a renewed interest in biology, or was it anatomy? But really our common bond was the decal, we were both from the same high school. Just different planets.

My current ride for Triumph is a Tiger 800. Dealers won't have them until July, so when I cruise into a dealer they are very interested. A neat bike, but as yet unobtainable. But as much as the dealers like to see one, and have seen pictures so they recognize it, I lately am getting more recognition from the license plate. It is from Georgia, where Triumph is located. And while enthusiasts notice the bike, tourists note the plate. And I have met some nice people because of it.

"Are you from Georgia?" No, but I have been there. One couple after telling me they were from Atlanta, I mentioned the Varsity. He said "what'll ya have, what'll ya have?" the way they greet you there. And soon we were discussing chili dogs and onion rings, and left old friends. And hungry.

"Did you ride out here from Georgia?" No, but I have ridden there. No relation to the aforementioned Gold Winger. But still, a taste of home to them.

"We're from Decatur, Rome, Savannah," and then talk to me like I've been there. And after listening, add it to my list of places to visit when I do go back. Another question I am asked. But I am always amazed at how that little license plate on back has started many conversations. Kurt Vonnegut calls these things we have in common "grand falloons," a term he made up. And whether you know it or not, a grand fallon is just around the corner for you.

I also get asked how do you ride all these new bikes in California, when the plates say Georgia. After explaining how and why I ride them, they ask what I do for a living. And then I get to share Jesus with them, and the ministry work the Lord has given me to do. From red neck to no neck, I have met some very nice people, and gotten to pray for them, and with them. But when meeting other Christians it is always a rush, as our grand falloon is a person, Jesus Christ. And whether we just met, or have known each other for years, we form an instant bond because of Him. Not by plate or location, but because of a common book we are both written about in, the Book of Life. For once your name is written in it, heaven awaits, and where we were just strangers, now we are friends, and family. And any other subject just isn't as interesting as sharing testimonies with each other. Places to eat, roads to ride, and long trips may be important, but they all pale compared to Jesus.

And that's the way it should be. Keeping the first thing first. So next time you see a Jesus sticker on a car, give them the old "One way with Jesus"sign. Make their day. Hopefully they know what it is-finger pointed to heaven! And say a pray for them. You may never meet or see them again, but God is watching, and smiles when you do. It's called love, and He loves it when His children do it to each other. But also pray for those who cut you off, hog lanes, and even lane split. You never know, we just might end up at the same church sharing a pew. "Haven't I met you before? Do you drive a big SUV with Jesus stickers, who cut me off?" Not how I want to be remembered. How about you?

It might just be a decal on back, but it may also be an invitation to show the love of Christ to the hurting one God has put in your path. Or a Gold Wing rider looking to ride. A pretty girl at the pool, or a tourist hungry for the Varsity. God knows or He would not let you cross paths. And if it's not in your heart, don't wear it on your back. I just might see it and stop and visit with you.

"Say, don't I know you? Didn't I see you praying with that homeless guy and offering him food?" Only a decal on back? You probably think the girl at the pool was only a girl? Or the bike I'm riding is only a bike. Don't make the same mistake with Jesus!

love with compassion,

Mike

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