it still is all about the ride

When I left New Jersey to move west in 1975 on my R90S, bike shops were much different. But so were the people who rode motorcycles. With the possible exception of Slegers-Forbes, owned by Malcolm Forbes, bike shops tended to be what we would refer to as mom and pop stores. Family owned, with pop handling service, mom working parts and helping dad with sales, and the kids learning the business from both. Where I lived, the Norton store was in an old house, that sold lawn mowers. Much like the Triumph store we visited seven years ago in Lynchburg, VA. Closed for lunch, when most of us would go there for the K81 Dunlops that they sold. I had to get off work early more than once to get a tire there. BMW was sold at East Coast Cycles-a bicycle shop, with them in the back, and the then new to them Yamaha brand behind them. What a change from the palaces they sell BMW's in today. Honda meant VIP, in a huge store, at least to us-an old supermarket. But they sold so many Hondas they needed the space. Take a look, Honda never referred to themselves as motorcycles. Suzuki was sold with Kawasaki, along with Triumph by Rick's, who soon was to move into a large store-still very small by today's standard. The only Harley store I remember was across from the train station in Plainfield, in a narrow store front that was only wide enough for bikes along the one side, and a path wide enough to walk between them and the long parts counter. It may have been called Pop's, with no name on the window we were never sure. BSA would be gone soon, and Norton in a year, leaving only Triumph to stumble on until John Bloor bought them and resurrected the brand. It was the start of the Japanese revolution, and if you wanted to ride, or at least get there reliably, they were your choice. The bikes were changing, the market was changing, dealers were to change, and so were the riders.

So it was that I didn't realize what a great motorcycle town Albuquerque was to be when I moved there. Bobby J's Yamaha, still in business today. Jake Alcon sold Harleys, once let my friend Brett ride a Sportster, and wondered if he was on drugs as he wheelied it off the lot. Now a mega store, and Jake is no more. Either is Brett, who died in a single bike accident. Honda did well, Kawasaki was becoming the bike of choice due to the Z, and had two dealers, and Motorsport with two stores sold BMW, Suzuki, and Triumph. Joe Turney was still selling Laverdas, but no longer Triumph and BSA. Lastly Henry and Ilsa Rissman sold Moto Guzzi, and were open on Sundays, but still closed on Mondays like all proper stores were. Again, you knew the people, and they knew you. Break a turn signal, they would take one off a new bike for you. Broken down, they had a truck to come get you. And when you were ready to buy, always were willing to make a deal with you. Throw in a free helmet or gloves. You were more than a customer, you rode. You were a fellow rider, and no matter what you rode, after all the harassment died off from riding a Yamguzikawahontri, you all shared the brotherhood of being a biker-the common denominator was motorcycles. It was all about the bikes.

Most of us were brand loyal, but still loved to visit other shops. We learned about the other brands, and shopped for shirts and accessories that our shop may not have. We were all under the common moniker of bikers, we just worshipped via different brands. Just like Christians who share Jesus as our common denominator, but attend different churches. Theresa and I are fortunate that we travel and get around to other churches. Meeting pastors, hearing the gospel from a different perspective, and making new friends. When in Torrance we visit Steve Mays, who always recognizes us and talks motorcycles-he is an old Harley mechanic. Pastor Rob at Calvary Chapel Ramona rides, and through him we were able to minister to Gavin and Lynsay. Skip Heitzig rides a Road King, but also has a CB750 cafe racer. And because we share Jesus as Christians, we are able to fellowship and minister with and to each other, sharing motorcycles. Maybe even changing the way ministry is done because we ride.

Pastors, if you don't have a Saturday night service, come on down and worship with us at Marantha. Get out and see what God is doing in other churches. Be blessed and be a blessing to others. Need prayer, let them pray with you. Be welcomed as a new friend. Jesus didn't stay within the walls of any church-He was out and about. Maybe a good example or a wake up call for you and your flock. Meet other Christians, and enjoy the fellowship. And like those of us who ride, we find we have more in common than we do different. For whether it is the gospel on two wheels, or the gospel of Jesus, you need to take it to the streets. Get out of your Jerusalem, and find your Judea or Samaria may be a 30 minute ride to visit another church. And find that the outer areas will call your name sooner than you think, with blessings abounding when you visit. How you get there is up to you. But you will never know until you get out of your rut and try.

No longer a Honkawsuzyam owner, but a motorcyclist. And no longer a Bappresluthcath, but a Christian. Share the common denominator that God has given you. Whether it be Jesus or riding, do both to His glory. It is still about the ride!

Kick stands up, let the blessings begin!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

mine started witha 350 Honda

I have noticed lately when I go to vintage bike meets that more of us older guys are huddled around the older, smaller 250cc sized bikes. With the common theme being these were our first bikes. The ones we learned to ride on, the ones that we first experienced they joy and freedom of riding on. The ones that took us to places we never knew existed, on roads we still ride today, and that started a love affair with motorcycles that 40-50 years later we still enjoy. Many bikes will have come and gone over those years, but there will never be ones like the first one you owned. It will be the one that all others are judged by, because it will have been your first love. And there is nothing more precious than your first love.

Mine was a new 1972 Honda CB350, bought so I could ride with my friend Bill on his CL77. Once I had ridden such a big bike with 305cc, I had the fever and only the 350 would cure it. No more puny 50 or 125cc dirt bikes-I was out of the dirt and onto the highway-cruising at 80 and flirting with 100mph when able to. Motorcycles from that day forward would surpass girls in importance, until I met my bride years later. I learned more in the six months I owned the 350 and the 6000 miles I put on it than at any previous time in my life. And being a senior in high school, I thought I knew it all, but that Honda would teach me things that no class room could offer, and no text book could explain. It was the entry fee to life, and life suddenly appeared the day I rode away from Ralph's Honda in South Orange on it. I experienced more firsts on my 350 than I would on any other bike to date. It was with mixed emotions I sold it for a 1972 BMW R60/5, but more roads and farther destinations were calling, and the BMW was to take me to them. Maybe not better, but farther. I can still remember the excitement of riding out of the dealer, and on being torn between wanting to show it off to all my friends, or to go riding-friends would have to wait, the road called. What good is a new bike if not ridden? Truly there would never be another bike to me like my first one-and the Honda has forever earned top recognition in my memory files of bikes owned.

I never could imagine anything taking the place of motorcycles in my life until Jesus came into it. I had a new first love, that made me love and enjoy motorcycles and riding even more. I had a new riding partner-Jesus, and He not only loved to ride, but He loved to ride with me. Now I was never alone. Where I had a lifestyle, now I had life to go with it. He put girls, jobs, and even motorcycles in perspective-and whereas at one time girls would accuse me of loving my motorcycle more than them-the bike had less maintenance and was more exciting, now I was glad when they told me Jesus was the most important thing in my life. He gave me a passion for Him, and displayed it in my life via two wheels, in a way only a loving God could. And still does today.

You never forget your first love. Maybe that is why when we get together we share our testimonies and how Jesus first came into our lives. How exciting it was to meet Jesus personally, and how we once hated church and all religion, He had made it personal, and now we enjoyed getting together with other believers and sharing what He has done and is doing in our lives. Sadly for some they have lost their first love-but you can come back, His arms are waiting to accept you again in love. But to those of us whom never left our first love, there are more memories, sweeter memories, and even better ones to come.

There were many better bikes I owned after the 350. They would go faster, stop better, and be more comfortable than it was. But they all would lack the first time experience factor my Honda had. Way beyond the spec sheet, or how fast the speedo said, or how many miles the odometer showed, your first bike is more personal than that. And when we gather together around them, I am amazed how a bunch of crusty old bikers can reminisce so fondly over something so old and so small. First loves will do that to you. In a way all the ones to follow didn't and won't. Maybe the difference between men and boys is no more than the amount of miles on their memory odometer.

Make Jesus your first love today. If you have you know what I mean. If not, start the precious memory file with Him in it today. He makes life worth the living by showing you things through His eyes. He makes you come alive, and see life that you never knew existed. And He takes you into eternal life someday-it doesn't have to ever end. Someday all we will have left is our memories, but those of us who have Jesus will still have it all.

In over 40 years of riding and over 700,000 miles, there has never been anything to compare with my first bike. And after 35 years saved, nothing will ever compare to Jesus.

Many loves will come and go-it is the first love that you will always remember. Sometimes it's ok to travel back to see how far we have really come. They only get me more excited about the future. Only with Jesus are the best times and rides yet to come. These are the good, old days.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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will call

Admittedly we were feeling way cooler than we had a right to as we strolled up to the will call window at Sam Boyd Stadium. I had just signed on as the fastener sponsor for Nelson and Nelson Racing, an off-road racing team with factory backing from Chevrolet. We were about to be elevated to what to us was the big time, and although we felt cool on the outside, inside we knew we were out of our league. So when our turn got to the window, we made sure we told the attendant that the passes were for the Hot Pits, which were by invitation only, so that the others in line by us could see how cool we were, and connected. The Hot Pits got you anywhere you wanted, from the buffet meal with the drivers and race teams, to into the pits where sometimes you may be called upon to hand them a tool, or check something out for them-for me it was usually "Mike just stand over there and try not to break anything." But in I was. So here we were, me and my two sons, inside with the big guys, and we knew who they were, but no one knew who we were.

Fortunately I ran into Rick Johnson, the Rick Johnson of Motocross fame who was one of Nelson's racers and who I knew from SCORE races. He and Jimmie Johnson, the someday NASCAR legend were the Nelson's team, and Jimmie would win the stadium event that night. Sadly the end of the Mickey Thompson series-great racing on a short course, with the fans up close. Rick knew I was new to the series and showed me around, then we ate dinner, while he talked business with the two brothers who started No Fear. I listened and learned a lot that night. Rick again gave me his home phone and insisted I call so we could go riding-he rides the street also, and also fellowship together, he also is a Christian-a request I wish I had honored but never did.

But we were inside, and the people on the other side of the barriers could see us inside, and we felt so cool because we were inside-and they weren't. We were in the pits, we sat in special seats in the grandstands, ate great food, for free, and got to be in the midst of things, and see things that the normal fan would pay big dollars for if they could, but since this was by invitation only, never would. We were in the pits-and they weren't.

When we went to will call, they had to check for our names on the list, and then after checking our ID's gave us passes we wore around our neck, so we could be identified by security, who would then know it was OK for us to be there. Which looked so cool around our neck, the special pass color identified us as privileged. But since they were only good for that race, we would have to repeat this again at the next race. Privileges has its rewards.

Jesus Himself was faced with people who because they followed Him thought they had special privileges, and so took an attitude within the church. Never a good thing with Jesus. They thought that due to their self appointed elevated position in church they should be treated better. Pride is what God calls it, sin is what it is. And Jesus reminded them openly that it was not their acts that gained them entrance to heaven, it was His grace-a gift. He put it out there for them to hear in front of others, lest others be misled. He told them, "do not be impressed because you have power of demons or in prophecy, but rejoice because your names are written in the Book of Life!" All their actions didn't gain them heaven, it was mercy and grace. And once they had repented, and turned to Jesus, then their names were written in the Book of Life. Forever. And unlike the passes we wore around our neck, God puts His mark on our hearts, so that the world should be able to tell we are Christians-His representatives, not by what we wear, not by where we go to church, but by our love. The great commandment He gave us. How else would a God who is love want you to represent Him?

It is ironic how in life we needed special passes to enter the pits. Pit passes. But when we get to Judgment Day, it will take a special pass to stay out of the pit. It is by invitation only, and if you have accepted Jesus' invitation, then your name is right there in the Book of Life! You get to avoid the pit! Hell was made for the devil and his angels, not for man. God gives us a way out. Jesus. The invitation is still open, but only until death. Then it is too late.

Just like at the will call window you will feel way cool being admitted to heaven. Make it a point today to assure your name is in the Book of Life. Trust God. Give it all to Jesus. He is calling you right now. He even knows your name.

And maybe, just maybe, when you get there you will get a seat by the racers. And maybe Rick and I will finally be able to ride together and share the Lord. As cool as it is being in the pits, avoid the pit of hell-accept Jesus' invitation. You will then hear the most beautiful words on that day-from the only way to heaven, Jesus. "Well done , my good and faithful one."

Now that's cool. And the only race I will ever win-the human race!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogpsot.com

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employee contributions and their retirement plans

It caught my eye sitting at the light, so I had to turn in. Its emptiness made me feel lonely, lonely at first for the business that once was there, and then for the people who used to work there. "It was only a motorcycle shop, no one is going to miss its closing." And on the surface you may be right. But at one time this shop had 30 employees-30 families that once depended on this shop for their income, now they had none. Looking at the once spotless windows, you could see posters from a few years back, when for whatever reason the owners decided to close up, shut down the business, and lock the doors they left behind as a marker of what had been there, and when it ended. But this one business closing had more effects than meets the eye.

I noticed the deli next to it also vacant. The gas station on the corner closed. And where once had been a proud business, with an immaculate storefront, was now a lot full of weeds, filthy windows, and graffiti. Along with the other businesses I remembered. Even the real estate signs were faded-who could possibly want a run down building in a run down neighbor hood like this? And what about the families? Thirty families forced to change their lifestyles. Some who had worked there for their entire lives, where would they go? Who wants to hire someone in their fifties who only knew motorcycle parts? Or sold a line of motorcycles? What about their 401k's and retirement plans? What about their immediate plans for vacations, weddings, and graduations? What about all the loans and the mortgage that accompany life these days? Who will pay them if they are out of work for a long period of time? Yes, changes would definitely have to be made for the future-and they were changes not of a brighter outlook, but one of damage control. Ones that just because a business closed forced them into a lifestyle that they never thought could or would happen to them. Just a motorcycle shop? Maybe there was more to them and their place in the community than just loud pipes. Maybe they will be missed more than anyone ever knew. At least the surrounding businesses were effected, for just like them they closed, too. For there is no isolated closure in the business community, we all are affected by it and changed by it somehow.

Sin is like that, too. Take the man, for example who only took things from work he thought no one would miss. He did it for years, almost became a legend. Then one day he is called into the boss's office and let go. His stealing had gone on too long, and as a manager and employee, was expected to set an example for others. They had only hesitated in their action out of respect, but soon that had faded too, and he was let go.

What was he going to do? He had a mortgage, both cars leased, a son in college, and his daughter's wedding next June. Who would pay for these? How would he pay for his wife's $100 hair styling each month? Their lives would be severely altered-no more Friday nights out, no more trips to the river, and he may have to let some of the toys that filled the garage be repossessed-for he owned nothing, his life was built on credit-which he only had because of his ability to pay, and now that was gone.

"My sin doesn't effect anyone but me," they boast. But fail to see that there is no such thing as an isolated sin. It touches all of your life, and all in it. Consider that before you flirt with the receptionist, and soon end up having lunch with her. Explain that to your wife. It was only an R movie, then an X, and now porn-explain that to your daughter. And it was only taking a few things that no one would miss-but someday the bill comes due, and it always does. It is the payday that no one expected, or planned for. The wages of sin is death. The absence of life. There is no forgiveness, forgetting, or healing in it-it is final. With only one way out-Jesus. He shows mercy via forgiveness, forgets all your sins, and promises you a way out, but it takes repentance, not just saying you are sorry, for who isn't sorry when they get caught. It takes a change of heart, and a turning from sin, to grace. A gift, so don't try to buy it, borrow it, or steal it-you cannot earn it either. And your sin will find you out, if not here, it will on judgment day, where it will be too late. The wages of sin is death-and you will have earned them, and the eternal hell that goes with them. A retirement plan that no one planned on-or for.

Just an isolated sin? Aren't you glad God is not an isolated God? He is available to all who seek Him, and only Jesus is the way to Him, He makes it that simple.

When looking in the windows of the empty shop, amid the dust and dirt I saw a reflection of those who were effected when it closed. Memories left behind, now that meant nothing. Don't let sin be the only thing your life reflects-trust Jesus and let His light shine through the cracks in your life. We do not know what tomorrow brings, today has enough problems of its own. But our actions today will impact tomorrow.

I choose to face life everyday with Jesus. If you see anything else when you look in the mirror, it is temporal. If you see Jesus, it is forever. Just a sin or just a life? Only in trusting God will you ever know how many lives you really touch-let Him touch yours today. It could never happen to me just might without Him.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

it's personal-and so is riding...

I always told Theresa that riding was a personal thing, but it took her getting her own motorcycle after riding behind me for 25 years before she understood what I meant. It is different when it is your own, and you choose to ride different roads than you would when a passenger. You see things different-you notice other traffic, road conditions, the temperature, and the skies. The weather plays a bigger part, and where you choose to ride to is important, although the ride will always be the best destination. And there are times you just want to be alone in this private world God has created for you, sometimes a ride with a friend along, and sometimes others. And each type lends itself to a different style of riding. So many roads, and still so little time.

When alone, I choose roads that I like-and sometimes roads that no one else will ride with me on. I take the surface streets up to LA, and ride the old neighborhoods, take in the history, and recognize places I have seen on TV, and will stop and eat at an old drive-in, even though the neighborhood looks tough. I stop in bike shops just to look, and end up meeting new friends. And always leave myself enough time to get back via a convenient freeway. The trip home is always much shorter than the trip going. It is a trip for me, with my decisions for the day being the only limiting factor.

With Theresa on back I can ride similar, but tend to choose places she would like to see, and eat. On the back, time doesn't matter that much, but when she is on her Bonneville, I watch the clock more, knowing that traffic may mean lane splitting. I have to be more considerate of her, and it may alter my ride decisions, not bad, just different. And I love to ride with her. On back, or chasing her on the road, I enjoy having her along.

But riding with friends adds a new dimension to riding. You tend to smooth out your own ideas, and ride for what makes the others comfortable. There is a compromise to satisfy the group, and not to please yourself. It can lead to places you may not have otherwise gone, at speeds you aren't used to-hey I still have three gears left, can we speed up! But there are always times when I see something I would have stopped for, but didn't, considering the group. Making mental notes to return, but it is never the same. Not everyone is happy riding to Idyllwild, and some are so slow you may pass them on the way down-while they are still going up. Some only eat at chain restaurants, and are afraid of a corner taco stand. For some a tank of gas means three weekends of riding, while for us it means three hours. And you lose much of the personal riding that you set off on, hoping that the fellowship when you stop makes up for it. Not my favorite way to ride, so my short list only has a few on it-Joe, Frank, and Stu. Guys I don't have to wait for, babysit, or listen to them complain about the road, the weather, or the food. Guys who if we want to break off on the way home aren't offended, and call when they get home to let us know they made it safe. And look forward to our next ride. Sadly my list got shorter this year when Don Snyder passed, the only road captain I would trust to go across the US of A. But these other guys I would go with anywhere, at anytime. If you only ride in groups to a destination, you may never get to know what I am talking about. But each ride is still special. How many roads have you discovered by following someone else? And then taken others back to?

God is like that, too. He is so personal that I like to spend time alone with Him. I like to meditate on Jesus while riding, and allow God to speak to me uninterrupted. No better place than on a motorcycle to spend with God. No phones, music, or communicators-just you and the creator of the universe sharing time with you-while you ride. But other times when Theresa and I are together we get to share what God is doing in our lives. After church we ride home and then share what we just learned. Getting perspectives and blessings from what God is doing in our lives, or what He just revealed to us. Sometimes over carnitas at a stand none of our friends would dare stop at. A special time because God is with us. Then two can be better than one.

And sometimes we love getting together like we did at the Feast of Trumpets at church. It seems that even in a crowd of thousands, God can still be very personal, but very exciting too as we all sing and praise God together. How a thousand voices can fill the air with excitement and joy-and make the time spent feel like it will never end. But in both riding and fellowship it means taking our eyes off ourselves, and placing them on God.

God will make the times of riding very special. He will show you things that you need for the day, and answer questions you have-a son riding with his Father. God can take you places you never knew existed, and on roads that only He knows about. And one thing about Jesus- He gives you a desire to share Him with others. Maybe that is why bikers understand fellowship and brotherhood so well-they only need Jesus to make it complete. A trinity if you will-you, your motorcycle, and Jesus. Truly good things come in threes!

Your ride today may end different than it started. Flexibility will be a key to enjoying it-trust God. You may start out alone and meet up with friends. Or vice-versa. You may just ride to LA, or use that as a starting point for the next day. Keep it personal. Keep God in your ride. And watch as no matter how big the crowd, the most important relationship that day will be just you and Jesus.

So whether at the Hollister Rally, the Rock Store, or on your favorite road, enjoy the ride spending time with God. Like I told Theresa, it personal. And so is riding...

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

comfort zones and thermostats

Sometimes it is not who you know, where you went to school, or what you know that qualifies you for a certain job. When we first moved to Durango, the couple we moved with, Mike and Carol were always looking for ways to make money. Since so many heated with wood, and we needed money, we decided to cut wood and make a killing. It appeared so easy, and we would undercut-no pun intended, the competition by $5 per cord, and get rich. So answering an ad for a large resort, The Iron Horse, we made an agreement for $25 per cord-cut, split, stacked, and delivered. We even rented a splitter, figuring it would help things along. And as usual, we had spent the money we would be making many times over.

What we found is there is a reason firewood cost so much. It takes a lot of work! It is heavy, you bend a lot, and use a lot of gas for the trucks and chain saws. And the splitter was more expensive, and worked slower than we thought it should. And to meet our commitment we worked into the dark, never a safe thing to do around chain saws and log splitters. The longer we worked, the money earned stayed the same, just our wages went down-way down. And when we got the check, the amount seemed very small for what we had done to earn it, although it was the amount we had agreed on. And although we would heat with wood for the next six years, we never, ever cut wood for profit again, or lack of it. So it was when we moved to Farmington, with a thermostat on the wall, we vowed never to heat with wood again. Even the romance of a fire in the hearth left for awhile.

Things are different in California, where even though most houses have a fireplace, they use no wood, as they are gas powered, and are used to decorate and are non-functional for heating. So we never use one, as the glow from a gas log somehow doesn't have the same effect as aspen burning, doesn't have the smell of burning pine, and puts out little or no heat. Sadly those who have never heated with wood and are cursed with a gas log just don't get it-they miss the romance-and the sore muscles.

We get upset when the temp gets too warm or too cool, and feel inconvenienced when we must adjust the thermostat. How inconvenient. But sounding ridiculous to those of us who were used to coming home and starting a fire to heat the place, and waking up to the same cold home when the fire burned out the next morning. It may be a bit inconvenient, but if you never felt the warmth of a wood fire, you don't know what you are missing. And if you think all fireplaces are fired by gas-you just won't get it. There is a certain joy as the warmth from the fire fills the room, and you can start taking off layers of clothes. Sipping hot chocolate that was heated from the top of the stove on its hot plate, and sipping it gently so you don't burn your mouth-a much different hot than one that comes out of the microwave. And nothing like huddling in front of the fire with the one you love either!

Being in ministry I get to see how things are at the front sometimes, for we truly are in a battle between good and evil. And because of that, I must trust God for everything. And I feel bad for those of you who don't. Whose biggest problem is when will my new SUV be ready. Is the new Christian CD available. What college will my son go to. How is my 401k doing? What service should I attend? And the list goes on and on. Things that those of us at the front don't get to consider. Some in foreign lands are faced with death every day. Or where is my next meal coming from. Where will my rent money come from? And when doctor bills mount, who will pay them? And for those who minister locally, we may sit next to them in church, listen to the same sermon, but they will never get the true joy that God has for them. They choose the gas log approach, and never get the warmth that comes from the Holy Spirit. Saved yes. Warmed but without the warmth. Blessed yes, but never able or wanting to experience God's fullness by asking Him for a vision, and then following it. Living life based on where the thermostat is set, and never experiencing real warmth after being chilled, or real nourishment after being starved. They never get to see how much God loves them because they have buffers in their life to keep them safe and comfortable.

Only by trusting God and stepping out will you know. The world calls them comfort zones, but are really DIScomfort zones when God calls. For truly only when you are in the spirit will you be comfortable. So be wary when a pastor tells you to get out of your comfort zone. For the most comfortable place to be is where God wants you to be. So be there!

But ask for more, for a better way. A way to share the gospel more. To be a true minister. To get out of your gas log existence, and taste the real thing. Ask God to allow you to be in a situation that unless He guides you, you will fail. And see a side of God you never knew. A confidence in Him you never had. And a comfort you never want to give up.

Jesus Christ changes lives. He did when you got saved. Now let Him change you even more. Be brave, trust God. He has so much more for you than a gas log of life. And yes, you may be tired at the end of the day from cutting wood, but those who cut their own wood warm themselves twice. And tired bodies sleep better.

He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it. Ask God for more. Working for the Kingdom never felt so good. A comfort zone many hear of, but never get to know. If you are never cold you will never know how good heat feels. The best meal is eaten when the hungriest. And the best place to be is following God. A comfort zone that no thermostat can provide. Nod your head yes if you know what I mean. Sleep well, with a full stomach, and a heart at peace with God.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

"I'll hang up my cell phone when you have pried it from my cold, dead hand"

Question-how do you blind a woman driver? Put a cell phone in her hand while driving. And then hope that they don't aim at you while riding. Yesterday morning within my first 15 minutes I almost got hit five times-by rude women on cell phones. It seems these inconsiderate and rude people are the most important people in the world, so get out of their way-or else. Then after almost getting hit in a parking lot, I jokingly said "thanks for not hitting me," to which her passenger replied, "well it was your fault, you was going too fast." Standing still in neutral, I was going too fast. In a parking space! The driver apologized as she truly was going too fast, and I accepted while her friend rushed off-to Bible study. Cell phone still clutched in her hand. Note-men are just as bad, but at least show respect to bikers. They wave with the whole hand, not just one finger. Which also left me wondering, who would want to talk to someone like that? Maybe she is upset because no one calls!

It is not unusual to see Christian stickers on the freeways around here, but I question what is their witness when speeding past me on a cell phone, or just driving poorly while on the phone. I am cell phone free. That shouldn't make me a target. Now we all are guilty of rudeness sometimes, but I am highlighting those who have stickers all over their cars telling the world as the narrowly avoid getting hit by them what great Christians they are. But like one bumper sticker says, "I have no problem with Jesus, it's his fan club I can't stand." Sad, isn't it. And true about some. But Jesus died for all, good thing He didn't make some us pass a driving test.

T-shirts, stickers, and banners tell a lot about us. Who or what we believe in. And my wife, the preschool teacher, has a banner ministry with her four year olds. They are taught about Jesus and to pray, and they make banners for me to take to those I see in the hospital. They are usually 3'x5' with a simple message-"Jesus loves you!" and signed by their handprints dipped in paint. Fun to make, fun to give away, and fun for all who see them. A get well card from the great physician's littlest ones. Many rooms have had them, and patients will take them from room to room when they are moved, and I have seen them hanging at home when released. A card that stays with them-one of encouragement and love. With Theresa's kids showing the world that you are not too young to minister to others. Aren't the older supposed to teach the younger? What about that old CSN&Y song, Teach Your Children?

But one in particular stands out, and has become somewhat of a legend where we used to go to church in Escondido. The kids and Theresa made one for Judy who was in a care facility after knee surgery. I made her close her eyes, and when she opened them I had hung the banner. She started to cry and was touched by the fact someone had remembered her in the hospital. And as she commented on all the little blue and red handprints, we both noticed a larger set of handprints in the upper right corner. Noticeable for three reasons-they were adult sized hands and much larger, they were a dark red, not a color like the others, and they had holes in the middle of them. Large holes as if made by big nails. And as we looked at each other, we both got it at the same time. They were the handprints of Jesus, all the way down to the holes where He was nailed to the cross. Somehow He had added His handprints along with the kids, to show His love. A get well card from the King of Kings! Who is with the kids at school each day, and this day decided to paint with them. Truly a banner that still waves to show us how much He loves. Like the

scripture says, "His banner over me is love."

The scripture also tells us "as you go, make disciples of those you meet." You may get only one chance to share the gospel today. Make it a good one. Put down the phone, the attitudes, and put on love. If you are going to advertise Jesus via a sticker on your car, make sure the product inside is the same one on the label.

And let me know if you go to the hospital. The kids have many banners of love left in them. Use their example of love to others to show Jesus to a lost and dying world. He found the time to die for you, and to send Judy a card-imagine what He will do for you, if you only let Him!

No wonder the kids were all drawn to Him. He took the time to spend with them at their level. Finger painting that day. Handprints of Jesus beats fingerprints at a police station any day. Drive safe-the life you save may be my own!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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