valet sermons

While touring the River Rouge Plant last summer, we were amazed and impressed by the size and scope of it. At one time it was the largest industrial complex in the world, with raw materials coming in one end, and finished Ford cars rolling out the other-today the build F150's. Amazing that it takes many things, and then builds one thing out of them. Finished products drive out on their own, after having been bought into the factory in boxes, bags, stacked on pallets, and in railroad cars. So many raw materials, that by themselves have no use, but when combined with just the right instructions, have a purpose. We all laughed as they showed us the employee parking lots, the biggest one and more convenient was for Fords only, the farther lot, and I mean way out there was for other brands driven by employees. For parking rights, it paid to drive a Ford. A fact not unnoticed by the bosses, managers, and supervisors. Late again from the hike? Shoulda bought a Ford. Down to the car you drove, they knew all about you, and you were treated accordingly. At least when parking.

Ford tried to have total control over you. You might say that they were trying to keep the world out, and did a pretty fair job of doing it. For awhile, but with the inconvenient parking of other brands, I am sure that many were influenced to buy a Ford. And just like the old Ford ad prophesied, every time they walked the half mile to work, past the employees' Fords, they were reminded "there is a Ford in your future!" Dale Carnegie was half right-they were influencing people, but probably not making friends.

Ford did its best to keep the world out. To run things their way. According to their belief system and rules. The building said Ford right on it-it was theirs, and if you didn't like it, try GM, Chrysler, or American Motors. The door swings both ways...

I used to believe that the world invaded the church. That it had somehow in some type of anti-church crusade laid hold of the people, the rights, their beliefs, and even their pastors, and that this was part of being a Christian-the eternal battle between good and evil. But I was wrong. And too many things remind me of this-one would be plenty, thanks. I get ads all the time like you do. Today an ad got my attention, and really personifies what I believe. The world didn't have to invade the church-they sent out invitations, opened the doors, and welcomed it in. Then quickly shut the door behind it-so it couldn't leave! The ad stated simply "Are you looking for fresh sermons?" Go to sermonsearch.com for today's freshest and best new inspirational sermon ideas! Even comes with a FREE 30 day trial before you subscribe. Valet sermons-someone else does all the work, you just show up for the event. And it doesn't matter where you park, or preach-someone else is doing it for you. You may as well take the bus, or have someone read it for you. Bet we never hear about how it is a personal relationship with Christ, when yours isn't?

Pastors take note-remember when the Holy Spirit guided you? Are you so far from God that you have to buy books, by subscription, written by men, to do what you have the Holy spirit for? The moneychangers are in the church-remember Jesus turning over the tables and chasing them out? Quick-what man knows more or could possibly be a better instructor, teacher, guide, counselor, or savior than Jesus Christ? Yet you lead your flock by following men's ideas? The scripture tells us what is in your heart will come out of your mouth? Does this give us a fair picture of what is in your heart?

Maybe this is a good deal, for after the 30 day trial it is only $21.95 month! How can we as men of God, chosen by Him to lead others, fall into the trap of letting others guide us? Is Jesus out of fresh ideas? Would you sell your soul for $21.95/month? Or would you rather follow Jesus, who paid the price in full, and knows exactly what you need, and not only has the answers, but the way out also. And provides them via mercy and grace! In love-should anyone not have the $21.95! Are you so far from God you need help from the Internet? Proverbs tells us not to listen to gossip because we may not like what we hear? Are you listening? We don't like what we are hearing. The spirit has never stopped speaking!

At least Ford promised a future if a Ford was in it. What is your future for leading little ones-your congregation astray? Something about a millstone around your neck, and a deep ocean...all for only $21.95/month.

Turn to Jesus today. Let Him forgive you and inject life into your messages that no source other than God could supply. Seek Him first, then as everything else is added watch your congregation grow. And you will too! In ways no other book could ever foretell. Jesus is the way. He made it simple enough. It is all about Jesus-anything else is first loser.

Now, about that personalized parking space right in front of the entrance, why don't you park far away, pretend you work for Ford and drive an other, and show some hospitality to your guests? Might even meet some of them as you walk the parking lot to your car? Seems Jesus also was out among the people...but be careful-someone may recognize you.

As always, it is better to seek God. Trust God! Hey, there's a subject for a sermon-and I'll even give the first one free! Now all you have to do is trust Him. And not me.

By the way, they are also advertising for sermon submittals. Wonder what they would think of this one?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

classic is in the heart of the beholder

Add to your list the fact that no one really knows how old or what an old car is. Some shows advertise "classic," meaning old, but the Classic Car Club of America has fine lines of definition for this incorrectly, oft used term. Some shows cut them off at 25 years old, 35 years old, or 1975, 1973, or whatever. It even gets broken down by specific years and models with brands, and the question remains-what is an old car? I have an old 1990 Ford LTD Crown Victoria LX-for sale by the way, which although at 21 years old is not considered an old car. It is to me. I even took my 1978 Suzuki GS1000e to a show for old cars and motorcycles last summer, only to find it wasn't old enough at 33 years of age, 35 years was old that day. Told to me by a guy still in his twenties. And old can mean different times to different folks, my own criteria is before I started to drive. Cars meant different things to me after I got a license, so for me I pick 1971. You may have your own ideas, but they matter little-it is up to the show that is sponsoring it. Too which I quote my distinguished Long Island resident, Mary FNY. "Whatever."

But as cars get older, and cars from the 70's and 80's are included by the 25 and 35 year old mark, I don't see them at car shows. Where are all the Pintos and Vegas? They made millions of them? Remember those cool T-birds from the late 70's? Seemed everyone had one then, where are they now? Where has all the fine Corinthian leather gone? GM"s X-car, we even had an '81 Citation X-11, the hi-performance one with 135hp! How about the down sized 1977 Cadillacs? Millions of Chevettes, but does anyone born in the 80's even know what one is? And the list goes on and on, with only one thing in common-they have become throw away cars. Use them up, and recycle them. And true, some should be recycled, some the day they were sold were bad, but as a vintage they are all gone. Cars I drove from 1971 to 1990, cars like the first Rabbit in 1975, Mazda 626, the X-11, Escorts, Probes, and T-birds, all gone. Only in my memory are they alive, and at the time many were great cars. But now uncollectable, or maybe more correctly unavailable. Used up, thrown away. Recycled like today cans and bottles. Hey, even BMW boasts how much of their car is recyclable. Have cars gone the way of a returnable Coke bottle? Just pay for the deposit, then throw it away, you own it, or recycle them. And sadly history, culture, and a lot of memories for our society have gone with them.

Theresa tells me of a church that did a big 9-11 ceremony, and I was impressed. Until I thought. "Isn't that the same church that is for abortion? That marries gays? That takes stands on social issues, but now claims they know better than God?" They claim Jesus isn't the only way to God, or heaven. Just be good. How about a person seeking salvation, what do they say to him? When the streets of the south are lined with Baptist churches, each with just a bit of a different doctrine, when synods don't agree, and people aren't comfortable with religion, or its rules of code or dress, what do they do? Who have we become? Sadly like the criteria for car shows, they have gone their own way. Following their own ways, choosing to follow their own religion, rather than trust God. Calvary Chapel Escondido even does an "Are You a Good Person Test?" showing the fallacies of not following the Bible-check out their web site and take it. The truth of Jesus is the only thing that will set you free.

Today there is a new class of throw away people, those who are seeking God, but not finding Him in religion or denominations. Feeling useless, but still admired in society's eyes. Successes in business, in their careers. They aren't poor, homeless, or destitute. They have tangible assets. But getting theories, ideas, and doctrinal views from religion, but not the truth. They even contribute more than they take, but are spiritually dead. They may feel good, for awhile, but who is there to tell them the truth? What is their criteria? Is there a baseline for beliefs? How can I know God? I already know about Him. HELP!

And the truth remains in only one person-Jesus Christ. They need something intangible-for that is what the soul desires. The Holy Spirit. Jesus was not a religious person-the religious hated Him, when He pointed out their lies. And rather than be His own religion with His own set of laws, incorporated by man and not Him, He offers mercy and grace via forgiveness. Above any law! For free-no deposit. It is called love, and it is a gift-it cannot be earned. No one can be that good. Hey-we're all born into sin, ever seen a baby that needed to be taught to demand his own way? Or not cry when he didn't get it? Jesus says He is the way-one way, the only way to God. Aren't you glad it is not multiple choice? Simple enough. He is the truth-compare anything else to Him and you decide. And He is the life-life itself. Not a life style, or a way to live. He eliminates all the in-between men and rules, so you can deal with Him direct. No misinterpretations-just ask Him, and He will give the answer-then you decide. No other religion or person offers what He does, and lets you make the choice.

Classic is an overused word today. Lay's makes classic chips, we have classic cars, and of course the original brought back to life, Classic Coke. Jesus Christ is not only classic, He is today, and tomorrow. None other like Him. No need to box Him in with rules. And you will never be turned away, unlike some car shows. Take Him at His word, it is that easy!

In a society today that prides itself on recycling old items, and being "green," God understood this from the beginning. Long before it was trendy to recycle, Jesus was already changing lives. For the better, taking something old and dirty, and turning it into something new and fresh. He forgives you, will you ask Him today to forgive you today?

Jesus made it simple, change the heart, and you don't need the rules. Got morals? You don't need rules. It is called love. A Classic for over 2000 years. No deposit-and He will return! A "who" ever not a whatever.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the right man at the right time

Those of us who are proud to be called Americans have earned the right by birth, being born within a set of laws, or being naturalized. It is a term not to be taken lightly, but unfortunately for many it has. Just like all the new Charger fans since they won yesterday, living in San Diego doesn't make you a fan. And just like when they start to lose again, and so many will find other things to do, although you still live in San Diego, since you have lost interest you are not a fan, although you can claim the right by zip code-when it is convenient for you. Claiming the rights when beneficial to you is not a new system, but an over used and worn out system-with a name we rather not be called by-hypocrites.

But after watching ex-President Bush at Shanksville, and listening to Bill Clinton's response to the money needed to finish the memorial, it takes more than being an American-it takes being a patriot! And on a day to remember the 40 heroes, how refreshing to hear from both parties how George Bush was the right man at the right time, and to him I extend my hand of thanks. He is a true patriot, and makes me proud to be an American! For more than the job title demanded from him, he loves the US of A, and it shows even today. And even though Clinton still shows poor taste in women, and has some gaps in his morality, I was proud of him to step up and announce that he will get the final $10 million. But the questions remain-why did it take ten years? Why didn't the Federal Government come across long ago? Why wasn't this considered stimulus, but all the pork to keep the useless representatives in government ok? Why did it take so long? When will it ever end?

Our founding fathers were true patriots, willing to give all to start a new nation, conceived in liberty, inspired by God, and led by His spirit-the Creator they called Him. The 40 heroes of Flight 93 are heroes, and how many of us have risen to the occasion when needed? We are all Americans aren't we? Why are we not all Patriots? Talking with a lady at church, we were discussing the 80/20 rule-20% do 80% of the work. Except she noted it is more like 90/10. And I was embarrassed for her, and me. For we all call ourselves Christians, but a real Christian by God's standard is a sinner who has repented and given his life to Jesus Christ. Who by that simple act of believing with your heart, and confessing with your mouth, gain eternal life in heaven. But how many are patriots of heaven? How many are willing to put God first by asking Him, "what is it you would have me do?" Should we even have to ask? And even when they ask, ignore Him or don't heed His reply. For His answer is simply love God, then your neighbor. Yet are eligible for all the glory of heaven by their beliefs. Somehow it doesn't seem fair-maybe that is why God has the job and I don't. He looks at us by showing mercy when we fail, and giving us grace when we walk in the Spirit. And never asks that of you which He cannot deliver you to do.

I am blessed to be a Christian, but I am not a blind one. I see the fallacies and foibles in people, and try to love them anyway. And I am proud to be an American, but rather be known as a patriot, for I am not blind to politics either. All gave some-some gave all. Jesus gave it all. Today I ask, how will you represent your citizenship? How will your actions and morals define you? Who are you really? What can I do for you today?

Trust God. For no other choice is a viable one. In fact if you don't, you are in sin-a place where no one should want to be. Go past political agendas and party beliefs-do what is right for America, and do what is right for all. And for Christians-do what is right in the eyes of God, and you will be doing the right thing. Escape church propaganda, doctrines, and rules-rise above in the Spirit! Enjoy the liberty that God promises you, and behave like a patriot of heaven. Represent Jesus in thought,word, and deed. In the spirit. Let your light shine. Jesus tells us these things shall follow them that believe. It's ok this once to look back. What things are following you? If they are not love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, long suffering, and self control-put on your patriotic Christian heart and serve God! Jesus Christ-the right man for the right time-NOW! Don't wait to find it out when it is too late.

In a nation on which God has so wonderfully shed His grace on thee, is that too much to ask?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

it's Dave's turn

The 2006 Torches Across America ride was my first time to be part of the ceremonies at the Flight 93 Memorial Chapel in Shanksville. Torches was a secular event, and I was travelling with some of my Christian friends, who didn't understand the vision God had given me for that day. Foolishly I tried to talk to them, one man compassionate, although unknowing, the other so embroiled in himself and legalism, and how would I portray myself representing our ministry, that he missed it. It was to be a day that God was to surprise, bless, and amaze us, and also to set a pattern for a local CMA chapter to carry on, this Tenth Anniversary of 9-11. A day that we saw God's will be done, much to the surprise of all! Thy will be done is always the best.

When I had first contacted Fr. Al I told him we would volunteer to clean up if needed, we just wanted to help and not take away from the heroes of Flight 93. He insisted that I speak on behalf of the motorcycling community which had started to support the Chapel. So contacting the various ride groups planning on being there that day, we were going to be confronted with a parking problem. I had commitments from anyone from Tattoo Bob to Angelo and his group from Ohio-we were expecting over 700 bikers! But God-words to live by, knew better. As the 9am time came for me to speak, it was raining-as it always seems to on 9-11, the locals believe it is God's tears for the heroes-I do too. But as I was getting ready, a strange thing occurred-NO ONE had showed up! Except for 13 men and women from a new CMA Chapter, led by Dave Andrews, and this was their first event of any kind. Seems God had touched their heart also, and would continue too. Only God could have a man from San Diego 3000 miles away have a vision that would fill the heart of a local group-and bless us both.

My short talk went off without hitch, almost word for word the same message Fr. Al would later share for over 500! And we had never talked! But God-just like He had done on Flight 93, had just the right ones there. For on the plane, 40 heroes guided in unity by the Holy Spirit saved America from further tragedy. And because God only allowed a few of us to attend, He honored them that day. Again the ones He wanted there. If hundreds had shown up, the bikes would have taken away from the true reason we were there-as it was, God allowed us to compliment and thank God for the heroes. And to honor them with Him that day. In true love-not by a numbers driven event.

As we rang the bell that day at 1006am, 40 of us in the chapel each rang the bell once-for 40 heroes on the plane. Only God could know that! And as the day unfolded, we talked with Chris Taggert who created the statues-with a Dremel tool. We met the Northstar Kids, and in a moment I will never forget, when the ceremony started, we all joined in with them and sang "I"m proud to be an American, where at least I know I'm free!" Not a dry eye in the place! For truly where the Spirit of the Lord is there is liberty! And Jesus was there among us that day. Weeping with those that wept!

So many miracles took place that day-even Hollywood's finest couldn't choreograph a better day! Because God did! And continues to today, and a legacy that God allowed me to be part of by my obedience to His vision still blesses today! But God...

Today my heart breaks as I will miss the Tenth Anniversary at the Chapel. I had always promised myself no matter what I would be there. But God... has me here for a reason I am sure. But I am confident that Dave and his chapter will do the right thing. He has the vision, and has been faithful to the Chapel, and God, for this the sixth year. It is his turn, and the time has long passed for me to step aside. For just as God placed 40 heroes on flight 93, and just as He allowed 13 people to bring Him honor in 2006, we still need to keep it all about Jesus. And not me, or CMA, or anything else-it is all about Jesus!

A word not just for today-but everyday. To those who call themselves ministers of the gospel, and those who claim Jesus as their saviour-keep the main thing the main thing!

A lifetime of joy and Jesus was felt by me that September, 2006 day. But the spark that the Spirit lit in me continues. As it does for Dave, Linda, and those who are called to the Chapel by God. To all of them, to Pastor Tony, the Bishop, the Northside Kids, Chris, the stewardesses and United employees who I shared tears with, Mary White, and the Homer family, and to my beloved friend, fellow patriot, and Christian brother Fr. Al, may the promise of Ephesians 3:20 continue to bless you all-that God will bless you above all you ask, or could even imagine. Just like He did for us that morning.

Just like He did for us on 9-11-2001 by sending us the Heroes of Flight 93. And by the continued honoring of the God they honored that day by their selfless duty. For it is not by might, nor by power, nor by ministry, not by the church, not by motorcycle, and not by legalism-but by the Spirit of God! Anything else is a lie. I did what God asked that day-now it is Dave's turn. Faith acted out in obedience. A lesson for all, from a God who loved us so much He gave His only Son.

with tears of compassion in love,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

please go to flight93memorialchapel.org

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clothes encounters of the worst kind

Life is not a popularity contest, which is a good thing, because very few of us would be very popular. It may not be a fashion contest either, for which I am grateful. If it ain't t-shirts and jeans, I feel overdressed, and with the right combination of jeans and t-shirts I can be ready for any occasion that arises. At least in my own eyes.

While eating yesterday at Tommy's, I'll have my regular #3 with extra chili and extra onions please, I felt like I was in a fashion dilemma. Or at least a personnel/personal dilemma. Just before I reached the front door, a rather attractive, professionally dressed blonde was trying to figure out why the door said pull and it wouldn't push open. "Push the other way!" was my first thought, and I could hear a voice telling her the same thing. Which she did, and then started to turn right for the bathrooms-which were on her left. Similar command, same idea, "no the other left!" and somehow she navigated the remaining 15 feet herself. But I found her out of place here, dressed professionally, you know the drill, and this is definitely more my style-with stains on my shirt to prove what I have just had for lunch.

Returning she sat with another man who was just as over dressed, and then started to talk. She honked! She sounded just like a goose! And it was funny enough to make me want to giggle, and as the goose jokes started to occupy my mind, fortunately the food arrived. Hunger had taken over, and I was ok-but she still honked. And I thought to myself what an interesting woman, with an interesting voice, eating food she claimed she had never had before. I hoped her honk was louder than her bite. All dressed up, and this was where she chose to go!

Behind me were three rather large Spanish men, all dressed the same. They were quite dapper, but the three all had the same collared shirts on-they looked like flowered table cloths from a Mexican restaurant. You couldn't help but hear them, and one time I turned to see them laughing, and my first thought was they were a singing group. Again, overdressed, but tastefully-if they were a table cloth in El Cholo.

Then another old man came in-probably my age, but shaggy grey hair, in a style left over from Woodstock. With some pagan shirt on advertising the Scourge, whatever that was, the shirt had been there, and he sat the whole time across from me eyeing me carefully-so I did him too. From what I could tell this shirt was short on a love message, and this guy could be the next serial killer-I wasn't sure I wanted to be his next headline, or victim. A couple other younger types came in, amazing how hard it is for some to work the ketchup machine, and I finished and left. Safe and secure that my t-shirt and I would live to eat again. That despite where the bathroom was or which way the door opened, I would find it, and still wondering what the scourge was. And who were the three guys in the flowered shirts? And why is it so hard to push down on the ketchup dispenser?this

We hate to be stereotyped, but had I fallen into scenario honestly? Or were all these people just what they appeared to be? Was I? What if the scourge guy was really a youth pastor, working with kids? What if the three companeros were Mexican mafia? Would their clothes still be funny? And would the pretty girl with no sense of direction still be as pretty if she didn't honk? The only thing I was sure of was for the first time in weeks, I hadn't worn any of my food out of the restaurant. So much for my people watching at lunch today.

People are always watching us, too. Think about that when you explode on someone with your Jesus t-shirt, when they are trying to relax at lunch. Or show some restraint when some Metal head interrupts you while you are eating. Don't let these clothes encounters ruin your time, or start off on the wrong foot. I am reminded of talking with a pastor in church one night who didn't know me. I had on my M25B skull shirt that Christopher had designed. He kept looking at me, and I finally called him on it. All he saw was a skull, which meant death, which meant loser, which meant probably not a Christian, and he would have to talk to me. But when I explained, He smiled. Simply put, the skull represents Golgotha-where Jesus was crucified. The cross on the skull represents Him. The crossed pistons with the crosses on the end represent the two thieves who were hung with Him. "One denied Jesus, the other was promised to be in paradise with Him. Which one do you associate with?" Now he got it-the gospel, very simple, and direct. Which called for an answer. What does your shirt say? What does your attitude say? What do you say?

My clothes encounter said more about me than it did those I observed. My prejudice is simple. Please God, change my heart. Let me see more than a pretty woman with no sense. Pray for her. Let me look past the Woodstock haircut and see the pain in this man's eyes. Again pray for him. Laugh with the tablecloth shirted guys. For in each one, a glimpse of Jesus is seen. For I needed prayer myself that day, and I wonder what my shirt said? What did my attitude say? Would you have approached me?

Let the only decision you make today be the one to trust God. For despite our good looks beats a heart that desperately needs Jesus. You just may miss the perfect lunch companion if you don't. For who knows what evil lurks behind your t-shirt message? Only the spirit knows!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

letting the good times roll along the way

While waiting for the light to turn green so we could ride one of my favorite stretch of roads, Highway 150 between Santa Paula and Ojai, I noticed a sign for Kawasaki in the museum's window. Which made the next move into a parking place automatic. For the past 25 years we have been riding through Santa Paula, a town that has a rich history of motorcycling. Starting in 1928 when two motor officers in the early morning hours sped through the town warning citizens of the impending flood when the St. Thomas Dam broke, to Kenny Howard's, aka the real Von Dutch's last hangout, to the meeting him in the Chili Hut, and finally from Steve McQueen and his wife living at the Airport, and pushing a button to open the hangar and watch the planes land from their bed, bikes and bikers are a part of the valley. So it is only natural that over the years the Santa Paula Oil Museum would have motorcycle based exhibits. In this old building on the corner of Tenth and Main, it was Union Oil Company's first office, and was for many years. Nothing big and fancy, but very interesting and educational. Over the years they have had various exhibits of Italian bikes, board racers, Harleys, and now through September 18th, Kawasakis from a private collector. We even met Ken Ranzor there once, one of the original Victor McLaglen riders, who gave us a tour of old race bikes, and spent the afternoon with us at the museum. Later at a show we made the day for many veteran McLaglen riders telling them about Ken, he had dropped out of sight, and some wondered if he was still alive. Listened to their stories and watched as they heard of their old riding buddy. Friends of a friend we became to them. So much action in such a small town at such a small museum. Pays to pay attention. Especially while riding.

We even had a tour once of the living quarters and executive offices upstairs by an ex-general manager who was a docent. It was just like being in his home back in the fifties, and it gave the oil history tour had a face to it. But today it was about Kawasaki, and so we paid our $4, up from $2, someone has to keep the lights on, didn't bother to punch in, and walked through the small, yet interesting exhibit. About 10 of Kawasaki's old triples were on display, each original or restored original, plus a first year Z-1, and a 1978 Z-1R Turbo. A small case with some memorabilia, and a chance to relive the early 70's when ring-a-ding-ding two strokes smoked everything else. And if you were there, you know why I said smoked. They were fast, and loud, and smoked a lot, a fact my friend Bill learned one day when trying to race one guy who had his girlfriend on the back, and walked away from his CB750. Ah, the good, old days!

But mixed in with the others was a 1000cc, 4 cylinder, one off Mach IV, so clean it looked factory. And from the 1969 original Mach III, to the Z-1R, I quickly bored Theresa with stories of them all. Not really bored, but just enough to make 150 all that more appealing on this bright summer day. So off we were, making sure that our next trip to the area will include a trip through downtown. Never know what you will see at the museum. Oh, by the way, there was also an exhibit of Santa Paula police with some interesting period photos, many of bikes of course. Just gotta love a town who loves motorcycles as much!

Jesus exhorts us to "as we go, make disciples of those we meet." The key words, "as we go." For no one is certain what lies ahead, and certain people come into our lives when least expected. As any biker knows, the road is a great destination, you others hurry too much to where you are going. It is in these seasons-in and out, that we should be ready. Ready to be that example of Jesus Christ. Whether riding, walking, or waiting in line-someone is watching. And so should we. For what appears to be just an old building, to us has turned into many hours of enjoyment. An old town, of fruit packers, has turned into a haven for many weekends spent riding. And because we took the time along the way to stop, look, and listen, we have been educated, met some interesting people, and blessed-more than any sign in the window would indicate. Or invite.

Jesus Christ adds this to our lives. He lets His light shine on us not only in church on Sunday, but on the roads while riding and wherever we go during the week. He was an outside guy, and loved being among the people. Some who looked like derelicts like many bikers I know, but when you look past the rough exterior are great people. But you need to get out there, and take the time and visit. Jesus did-and does.

After breakfast one morning at the airport diner, we stood on the edge of the runway watching the old planes take off and land. No cops, no lines, no ropes. I guess they figured we were smart enough to not get in the way. God looks at us the same way. Get out and see the world, show them His love, and you won't be in the way. Let Him change the heart, you be the back up needed to help them along. Just like the museum, you add life to His words, and get hands on experience. Never knowing what is next. He calls it life-I call it riding.

Add Jesus to the list of names we met in Santa Paula. For many great times have been had there because He is with us. He rides, knows the roads, and knows great places to eat and meet. Like an old building with a Kawasaki sign in the window. Take the time and smell the castor today-a breath of heaven to some, and a place to rest for others. Along the way, as you go...with Jesus.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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standin' on a corner in Fillmore, California

Did you know that on the corner of SR 126 and A Street in Fillmore there used to be a gas station and a motel? In 1948? Or that across the street was a diner that served great breakfasts? Well, neither did I until our chance meeting with a man making his first trip back to Fillmore since then. I say chance, but I really mean divine time of intervention. Today a Chevron station stands there, has for 15 years as far as I can remember, and we stop for cold drinks before heading south to Moorpark over the pass-a good motorcycle road. While getting ready to leave, a man pulls up in a Ford Crown Vic with Tennessee plates, and after parking carefully, comes over and starts talking to us.

Turns out he is 81 years old, and has driven over 2100 miles from Tennessee by himself over the weekend. He showed us his medicine for his heart, it is enlarged and dressed in his blue leisure suit-right out of the seventies, started to tell us about his life. Born in 1930, he left Fillmore for the Air Force in 1948, then a career at Lockheed, where he left and took early retirement in 1974, as head of special projects. He tapped on his right vest pocket telling us how they pay him well in retirement. And how he is a widower and how his older son committed suicide due to drugs. All within 45 seconds.

But he went on to tell of Fillmore then, and how there were no hotels around, and wouldn't stay in a Best Western, the only game in town. He was staying in Piru, I didn't even know they had a motel, but I do know of an old hotel I saw on Diagnosis Murder when filmed there. We even went by to confirm it once. But in between, he was a bundle of energy, and memories, and entertaining to listen too. After awhile we shook hands, and I asked him if he had been down Central, the main street in town to see where the Wm. L Morris Chevrolet Store was, a legend since 1929. It fell victim to the earthquake in 1994, but the buildings still remain empty, much like happens in a small town like this-abandoned, unused, but not forgotten. When I mentioned this, his face lit up. He had gone to school with Chappie Morris, the owner's son, and they were friends. He would go by. We shook hands again, and even though he had more to say- a lot more, it was time to go. I wished this smiling old man well, and never get his name. But his face and kindness will stick with me.

Choice encounters like this along the road always seem to remind me that although we are called to the road as a destination, it is the people along the way that make the most precious memories. 2000 years ago an Ethiopian eunuch had a choice, but not chance encounter with Philip, asking about the scriptures concerning Christ. After Philip filled him in, he baptized the eunuch, and then was gone. All within a short time, a blessing and an example to future travelers that while on the road, to share the gospel. Which not always is expressed in scriptural dictation, or preaching, but more often showed in love. Like we did in Fillmore. God sent this man to us, or us to him. He needed a friend, a fellow traveler to share old times with, and we love to listen to the old time stories. So we were his perfect audience. In fact I am tempted to ride up to Piru to find him and hear more, much like the eunuch wanted to hear more about Jesus. But we showed love and compassion to a fellow traveler, and left the richer for it, as did he. To us a chance encounter, but to God a precious time to see three people on the road blessed.

Take the time to welcome others, whether into your home, your church, or on the road. You never know who you will meet or the blessings that await you. You may be the blessing, or be on the receiving end, but either way, welcome strangers. For we were all once strangers, and Jesus welcomed us. A fact we never want to forget. And that we should want to pass on to others. To some this would have been an annoying old man, but to us a precious treasure of memories. And to him, we were a welcome audience after four days in the car alone-at 81 years old.

Maybe that is why Jesus wants us out and about on the road-getting out of church, sharing the love of Jesus and making testimonies. Life outside of the four walls, taking what we have learned with us to share with others. Maybe, just maybe, take the time to take Jesus with you on your next trip, whether to the store or across the country. You will never travel alone, and be blessed. And stand with a new friend where a hotel and gas station used to be. Listening. An unscripted memory from God, just for you. Just another pit stop in life on the road to heaven.

love with compassion,

Mike

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