Thursday, October 18, 2012

are you sure about that?




When we were kids and Joey's mom got a new car, we ran home telling our parents, and they would doubt us. They knew the Colemans, and if Mrs. Coleman had traded in her 1950 Chevy for the new Mustang, this had to be seen to be believed. "Are you sure about that?" they would ask, for not only had we never seen the new Mustangs, but Mrs. Coleman? Her old car was old even among old cars at the time, which were uncool. But once we saw it parked in front of her house where the old Chevy used to sit and leak, and when we saw her taking Joey to school, we believed. But after we had ridden in it, then the story had to be true-no one could not believe you if you ridden in it! Not even your parents! Believing was seeing, riding in it, was too cool for words. We knew it was really hers now. And the smile spoke for any adjectives your 11 year old vocabulary hadn't added yet.
When visiting my father-in-law in the ER the other day, we had been talking about my recent open heart surgery. Do we sound like two old ladies discussing operations or what? When his nurse walked in and commented I looked good for only 3 months after surgery. She asked what I had had done, and when I explained about the staph infection filling my pericardial sac, and the aneurism on my aorta, she gave a look of disbelief. We knew only one other case like this had been recorded, but when I told her about my heart filled with pus, and my aorta exploding, she looked at me with disbelief. "You don't live through that, it is called AAA, and it is fatal." You bleed to death is less than 30 seconds! Only after explaining I was a miracle, God's miracle, and that I had read the reports, and talked to the doctors, did she begin to believe me. She had met the man behind the story-why would I make this up? No layman could do that, only since it was my testimony would it be believable. And I am sure she was going to pass the story around to her other nurses, who may not believe her, but she had met me-seeing was believing. And she wasn't the first medical professional to question it, even my local cardiologist after a full examination could find no fault with me. "You're lucky to be alive, but fine," he said. The scar only proving what the test showed. And I have the scar to prove it!
He is wrongly called Doubting Thomas, although the Bible never refers to him by that. Check out the scene, it is three days after Jesus had been crucified. It is Sunday night, and all the remaining disciples except for Thomas are up hiding, in the dark, in the upper room, for fear of persecution. An elite bunch, but a normal group of men, who were unique because of Jesus. We are not told where Thomas is, but one teacher believes he is on the street, living for Christ still, in spite of the circumstances. When in walks Jesus, although the door is locked. Right through the wall. And just like He said, after 3 days He would rise-and they all saw Him, except for Tom. But when they hurriedly told him that they had seen Jesus, his first thought was one of hmmmm? Great, now they are seeing ghosts. Aren't these the same bunch that included a tax collector, a known liar? Who the two brother's Mommy had gone to Jesus to ask for special treatment upon death? And here before death? And wasn't the toughest one intimidated by a teenage girl? And had to run away? And he was asked to believe this bunch? Yeah right, He just walked in through the wall. Would you? If it was so easy to believe, what took you so long?
So we know about his famous "only if I touch Him will I believe" statement. But so did Jesus. And reminded Tom of that when they met again. And Thomas believed-never touching His wounds, but recognizing Jesus! And recognizing His voice, for the sheep know the sound of their shepherd's voice-one that they all should have known very well, and that Thomas instantly recognized. So why do we doubt Jesus even today, and why does He still bear the scars? To prove it is Him, because we ask, like the nurse did, and like Tom did, "are you sure?" Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word, and the word is not the book, but the person of Jesus Christ, the great shepherd. An illustrated book.
So it is OK to be like Thomas, for he only wanted to be sure. He didn't trust man, or his friends. He only trusted God-and set an example for us to follow today. Are you that sheep wondering about Jesus? Get to know His voice, and trust in addition to believing. For all believe, but only a small number trust. And that is among those of us who are saved!
And so I have this 12 inch scar on my chest to prove to the doubters of my testimony. When I look at it in the mirror I am reminded of the miracle that God performed in me-and how unique I am to Him. And how no other person on record has my story-my medical testimony or my testimony of Jesus Christ. And yours is just as precious and just as unique. So next time someone demands evidence before they make a commitment, take them to Thomas. They may doubt-he never did. He wanted proof-and found it in the voice of Jesus, the word of God! Proof that the word never returns void, and He has the scars to prove it.
I wonder what the nurse would think of that? What do you think of that? For it is not the question, but your answer that makes the difference. That I am sure about. Jesus Christ-and He has the scars to prove it!
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com





Wednesday, October 17, 2012

they left the light on for you





...there is no place like home. But to those of us who love to ride, there is also no place like the road. And among the great rods, rides, and food, it is the people we meet that make each mile or meal special. Hospitality it is called, making us feel welcome or at home when we are not. Here are just a few who if asked would not admit to going out of their way, just doing their job...but to us that day and at that time they just made it special. Memorable, and worth repeating.
We were up on Skyline Drive in Virginia and met a man who had a Sprint ST like us. "Follow me, " he said, "this road is my back yard." And for the next 45 minutes rode at speeds I never would have attempted, followed him, using his braking markers, and enjoying the scenery and the road. When he pulled off, we both waved, thinking "what a great ride." And he was thinking the same thing...It was a three day weekend 4th of July, and coming back through Salida, the Z-1 started running on only two cylinders. I had gone past an old house with a Kawasaki sign out front, and when I walked back, there was an emergency number on the door. Calling the number, Tom, the owner, came down on this Sunday night with tools and parts-the bike at this point wouldn't start. For a couple of hours we talked while he gave my bike a tune-up, and when it came time to pay, said, "I have to charge you something, or my wife will get upset...how about $20? Which was my last cash, and in these pre-VISA days all I had with me, and 150 miles to get home. He then paid for a tank of gas, and covered me for a night at a motel. "Send me a check when you get home, have a good trip." Guess where I bought my next bike?
It was Labor Day weekend, and we had taken a spontaneous trip all through the Rockies. On Monday morning, I noticed my R100S had more miles to home than tire, so sought out a Western Auto Broomfield in desperation. No tire, but his friend owned the Suzuki shop. Would a Suzuki tire fit a BMW? Minutes later his friend was opening up his shop, we borrowed tools and changed the tire, and were on our way. Safely. We had eaten lunch at Skeeter's in Wytheville, Virginia, serving great chili dogs since 1927. When we paying, I was able to have my picture taken with three generations of women, going back to 1927. Somehow the food tasted better having a face to go with it. All 80 years of them. On a later Memorial Day, we had ridden Hiway 49, then San Francisco, Hiway 1 and dinner in San Luis Obispo. I called the owner of the Tropicana Inn in Santa Barbara to let him know we would be late. He would leave the keys under our door mats, and told me we could settle up in the morning. Which we did after a great sleep. It was then Jeff noticed his master link was missing. Again the manager to the rescue, his friend owned a hot rod shop, and tack welded the chain where the master link was missing. All from guys who don't ride, who just cared enough to handle the situation.
It was my first trip to Victoria, BC, and Bruce had goofed our hotel reservation. Still light at 10pm, we found a place with only a suite left, but she gave it to us for the room price. She also called over to the restaurant, who had just closed, and a cook and waitress hung around and took care of us. Anything we wanted, and then sat and wanted to hear of our trip for the next hour. When done, the desk clerk came over and stuck the pool key in my hand. It too was closed, but she thought we might like a swim or a soak in the spa. Southern hospitality, just slightly north of the border. Southern Canada, if you will. Many others come to mind, of those who loved to serve, and see those visitors to their towns welcomed. To them from all of us who ride, a big thanks. Thanks for making us feel at home, be it ever so humble.
Hospitality is not a new thing, and for over 2000 years God talks about it in the Bible. Consider the innkeeper with the stranger and the good Samaritan. He kept him until the Samaritan returned, with no chance of showing up on Trip Advisor or AAA. How about the innkeeper who took in a young couple with child, and when his inn was full, still found room for them in a stable? I'm sorry, I didn't get his name...And that child born there that night would set other examples for us to follow. He would feed 5000 with meager means, making all feel welcome and leaving full. He was gracious to the woman at the well, made the woman caught in sin feel safe among her accusers, and showed others the best place to fish, and others the best medical facilities. If you remember, His name is Jesus. And He did His best ministering on the road, with no place to call His own.
At the last supper, He told His disciples, "do this in memory of me." Can we do the same? Can we just be hospitable? What a call to ministry that is. How often do we greet the stranger in church, or have them sit with us? Do we introduce them to others, and make them feel welcome in our church home? Do we offer them going to lunch after, or do they leave not knowing anyone, and we wonder why they never come back. "It's a friendly church," they were told. "Where are the friendly people?"
Today greet a stranger in love, listen to them, and get to know them. Do this in memory of Jesus, who is very much alive. Are you? What would your AAA rating be for hospitality? Did you leave a light on for them? Did you show them the light? Sometimes the simplest of ministries is the most effective. "I was a stranger and you took me in..." Jesus Christ-He is the light, and He is left on for you! No matter where the road leads you, He is on it with you. Be it ever so humble... and He is. And worth repeating.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

jumping a motorcycle




Robert Craig Knievel, aka Evel was perhaps the most highly recognized motorcycle rider of a generation. Not for his riding abilities, of which he had many, but for his showmanship. In particular his highly publicized jumps. Of which he is quoted as saying, "anyone can jump a motorcycle, the trouble begins when you try to land it." Which not only speaks volumes of truth about riding, but also about life in general. Having been down a few times, I can tell you it isn't the take off, but the get off that is the problem. Which brings up the question, "if we know what lies ahead, why do we make the jump?"
God has reminded me of late why he gives a motorcycle a suspension. A simple enough explanation, the road of life is rough, with many bumps. Without a suspension on a rough road, you get tossed off. Without the Holy spirit to buffet or guide you, you too can get thrown off. Which brings us back to Evel, and his crashes. Having been a motorcycle junky since I can remember, Evel and his shows were always a must watch. Just don't tell the parents, as his landing gave them more fuel for their "Don't ride, it's dangerous campaign." But when Evel always seemed to get up, no matter how broken he was, you could always tell them how he always bounced back. Maybe bounced back is not the best description. "You can fall many times in life, but you're never a failure as long as you try to get up." Another Evel quote. Which always fell on deaf ears, seems the little engine that could story was much safer-no one jumps trains. "I think I can," translated into "no you won't," at my house. And yet this daredevil/showman became a hero to many.
Although he ended up jumping Harley's, his first jumps were on Hondas, then Nortons, a couple of years on Triumphs, then Laverdas, and finally HD. Japanese, English, Italian, and American-he jumped them all-and crashed them all. An equal opportunity crasher. Which if you consider my lack of Italian riding, I can tell people I'm just like Evel-Honda 350, Triumph.... But despite my get offs, there the comparison ends. Except my BMW jump, which Evel never claims to have done...I was at a flat track race with BH and Bouke. Nice country, around Skippack, when I heard a familiar sound from the track. Bouke had my R90S on the dirt track, all crossed up-without my permission. He knew not to ask, the answer would be no. A lesson learned by all kids early on. And after he parked the bike, I chewed him out good, but was concerned about my dirt covered ride. So took off onto one of Pennsylvania's great roads-hills and dips and curves, at high speed. Until I cleared one hill at 70mph, and the drop-off was higher than I anticipated. Also it made a hard right turn, which explained the 30mph speed sign. But while in midair, and my landing skills were to be tested, somehow fear and the overwhelming sense of survival took over, and I landed perfect, went into the turn leaned over, and accelerated out of it. All for an audience of one-if you don't include the family in the car coming the other way. "Dad, look, that bike can fly.." No one saw it-which greatly diminished the believability-I guess the fear in my eyes didn't show well in my Bell Star. No one to see this great jump, and landing...so who will believe me now?
I still ride today, maybe enough evidence that I made it, just not all the details I would like to have bragged on. God saved me that day, in my pre Christ days. He loved me while still a sinner, and allowed me to live to come into His salvation. And today I find God still performing miracles, and leaving evidence for those who doubt. When Moses met God on the mountain, He gave Moses the Ten Commandments to return with. Evidence that Moses was with God, despite his pre -Bell Star mask he wore to confuse the people. When Mary was with child, He gave her and us Jesus, to prove the miracle of the virgin birth. And when people hear of my miracle this summer of my exploding aorta, I have a scar to prove my surgery. Three examples of how if you weren't there, evidence remains to prove it occurred. Something tangible after something spiritual had occurred.
Losers will always have excuses, Christians will have testimonies. Share some of them with others today. Show the scar, and brag on the miracle worker. No audience-praise God. Thank Him for His miracle in your life. And if a jump appears before you, let Him guide the jump, and your landing. No matter the outcome, tell others about Him. Turn your mess into a message, and your test into a testimony. I heard that Evel when near death, the last time, turned his heart to Jesus. His last jump on earth became his biggest one. And his most important one. Don't wait until midair to make a decision. Turn to God now, and let God change your life, just like as God did when He turned Evel to good.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogpsot.com

Monday, October 15, 2012

bless the Lord all my soul...





After being discharged from rehab after my open heart surgery last summer, Walt and Pat were gracious enough to lend us their home in Rio Rancho. Having to rest, I watched a lot of TV on the non-cable set-up, being rescued by ME TV, Memorable Entertainment. It was all the old shows I loved, and some I didn't, thrown in to remind that all things in the past weren't memorable, at least not for the right reasons. I would watch Andy Griffith, Rockford Files, Perry Mason, Wild Wild West, Star Trek, My Three Sons, and others, and found not only were they good TV to me, and entertaining where you got to know the characters, but the themes to the show were great too. And not one great show had lousy music, or vice-versa. Hear the opening tune to Bonanza, and you knew you were at the Ponderosa, who can forget the scene of riding up to the front of the ranch. Hearing the sax on My Three Sons and you soon knew Steve would giving good advice to his sons. Hearing the driving tune to Perry Mason you soon knew that he would use all his expertise to defend his client,and that in all but one case, they were innocent. And within three notes of Rockford, here comes Jimmy's Firebird. Angel!
Tunes we came to know and love, and could be whistled. And in your mind could hear all the other instruments playing together to make great music as you whistled along. But how many know their are words to most of these instrumental greats? Bonanza, M*A*S*H, Andy Griffith, and others had words, but you never heard them, nor needed them, they were to be whistled and watched. And so they set the scene for the next 30-60 minutes. Good stuff!
Music is a great part of any "church" service. It not only helps set the mood, but sets the mood of the heart, the soul. And any great service starts with great music. For years I endured poor worship music, it was all about the leader sadly, not about who we were singing about-Jesus. But once I became part of great worship, the music spoke to my soul, and prepared it for the great teaching to come. For the music is about Jesus, and sung to Him, not for our entertainment. And whether it is an old hymn, or a new song, when sung in true worship it moves the soul, as it should.
Stop and consider the following-if you truly trusted God, and knew He was taking care of all your needs, what would be left to pray about? PRAISE and WORSHIP! And just like singing in church prepares us for the Bible teaching, it is also preparing us for heaven, where it will be all about Jesus, and not us or our mansions, or whatever other selfish whim we choose to include. On earth as it is in heaven should take on a new meaning, try that next time you sing to the Lord, instead of with Him. Keep it all about Jesus and watch as your heart changes, and you suddenly enjoy church. For just like hearing the great song to a favorite old show, and you know what is coming, worshipping Jesus prepares us for His return, and what comes next! And sets the mood for those we meet later on.
We tend to always remember the last song we heard before turning off the radio-which can be good or bad. Why not whistle or sing the last song you heard in worship all day-what a difference that could make! First hand I can tell you, for God put a song in my heart while in a coma. "Bless the Lord all my soul, oh-h my soul, worship His holy name, sing like never before, oh my Lord, I'll worship your holy name." In and out of consciousness I sang, like never before. And still do today, as I praise God for who He is, and what He has done and taken me through. Also for where I am going! And how the tears flowed my first night in back in church when we sang that song. Only God could choreograph that-so let Him.
So start now singing like never before. Heaven awaits those that believe, and we shall enter with the sound of a trumpet! The angels will be singing, and so shall we. Words you never heard before, the songs will never end. Even better than ME TV will be the time in heaven, no reruns, only great tunes with a great God. A great show with great music, and the show never ends. Remember that next time you are in church, or out and hear a song in your head-it is really your heart that is tuning in to Jesus. And get excited-for you know what is coming next! Praise and worship-where we will truly sing like never before-forever.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com  

Friday, October 12, 2012

if you don't ride it, it will never get dirty






They are called "rat bikes," because, well they look pretty ratty. They will stand out in a crowd more than spending $50,000 on chrome and custom work, and have a certain patina all their own. Yet some tend to look down at them, and their owners, just because they are different, because they may not be as pretty to look at, but we need to remember-at least they're riding. And you don't know what they have at home parked in their garage. So we must we careful before we comment, lest we become the "rat" in the situation.
I have shown up at biker events after riding 500 miles in a day, with bugs on bike, chain lube on the swing arm, and needing a shower. Only to be looked down at the shiny leather crowd, their chrome gleaming in the sun, and no bugs in their teeth. And when granted a conversation with them, find out that my day's mileage may exceed that of their month's riding. Whereas I filled up three times that day, they can't remember the last time they did. But somehow their appearance of cleanliness gives them a superiority complex. They look the part, may even talk the part, but have never ridden the part. They know the parts guy from buying all their chrome from him, and have the latest t-shirt. But all from local dealers. Even worse to me are those who got them while on vacation-they either flew, or drove the car. To me that is not a real vacation! I even have talked to guys who will rent a bike for the weekend, just to keep miles off of theirs. They just don't get it, better yet they think we don't. And both sides are right-it may be the question asked that is wrong.
We tend to congregate with those that we feel comfortable with, so I try to avoid these types. But somehow they are drawn to me, and I hear the question in my head that is on one of the HD shirts, "If I have to explain it, you wouldn't understand." To which I now reply, "if you can't explain it simply, you don't understand it!" And as they go back to polishing their chrome, or moving their bike away from such a derelict, we both miss out. Maybe they would like to polish mine, or maybe they would like to go for a ride. Maybe they have a rat bike at home-only the ego makes them bring out the trailer queen to events. Maybe they would secretly like to ride an Adventure bike, but their peer group wouldn't accept them. Different flavors of the same ice cream-we all ride, isn't that what we should emphasize instead of our differences?
Their are groups even within our own Christian community that are superior to others-or so they think. Rather than encourage, their actions tend to segregate us from even each other, as well as other groups. When they introduce a friend as a super Christian, I wince. And here comes the polished chrome attack, and suddenly I feel inferior to them. But as I quickly get over it, as I listen to their foolish claims, I see no substance to what they do. I know of men who have fed the poor, given big sums to the church, or taken a Saturday morning to help someone move. Only because they brag about what they have done for Christ. When it is really themselves, a self aggrandizement that they are telling, the words of a Pharisee in a modern day world. They are trying to build up themselves, "look you too can be a winner like me,"and think somehow they are pleasing to God, but their words don't fit the actions. I find they invade churches, travel from church to church, and never contribute anything. They brag about their kids, how well they are doing in Christian school, or a missionary trip, but when you ask the kids later, their hearts weren't in it. Dad or Mom's berating or threatening tone made them give in, if only to get out of the house. Their chrome doesn't shine, nor is it covered with road dirt. But no testimonies are offered, to them it just got them away from their parents. The only reality they have of Jesus is being ordered around, it's not personal.
I have learned that I can do more sitting in the crowd and obeying God than standing on a street corner yelling out "Jesus!" That evangelism isn't inviting people to church, or bothering them with how great a Christian you are, but by listening and spending time with them. Finding out the need before trying to overwhelm them with what you think you know. Most successful Christians I know are just there, and are there for others. No shouting it out, no waving of flags, and no arguing with others. Loud pipes don't save lives, only Jesus changes lives, will we please let Him?
We live in a competitive society, the church doesn't have to be. And it shouldn't be. It should be a place to comfort the weary, encourage the downtrodden, feed the hungry, and visit those who can't get out. WE are the church, not the building, so ask yourself, would you want to go to your own church, the one your words and actions display? Would you feel welcomed and comfortable? Would an unsaved person want to be like you? Or would you rather see the Word in action, than profess how much you think you know? Are you walking in His way, or are you just in the way? What fruit do you bear?
Sometimes it isn't what you ride, but the fact that you do ride. Something to remember the next time another bike waves to you. And something to live, God gives us the chance to share His love. Many arguments have been won, and souls lost because of the selfishness of others. Don't be a part of that crowd. When the final toll is taken, just being there in heaven will be reward enough. Why not live like Jesus taught His disciples to pray, "on earth as it is in heaven?" And you will find that on earth it will be who you know, not what you know. So know Jesus. Trust Him. Use the still small voice He speaks with, and please, don't shout at me. Or others. You miss the chance to hear what we have to say too. We love you as you are, can you say the same to us? Or are you too busy polishing your ride rather than riding it?
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com



Thursday, October 11, 2012

get 'er done-you should be riding





When I first moved to So Cal, I went to work for a fastener company. Dealing with anything from large car dealerships, to motorcycle shops, to small repair shops, I got a pretty good cross section of how business should run, and in many cases how it should not run. Many times I dealt with the owner, and he was spending his money, so it was personal. Other times it was a parts manager, who had to be schmoozed. But I always dealt honestly with them all, which often times took them by surprise. With everyone coming at them with a line, they had a thick skin when it came to salesman-I still do today. And many times because of how they were taught, or based on past experiences didn't do the right thing. I sold small parts, clips, screws, fasteners, and chemicals-things used to put things back together. And many would not carry them, "I'll just call when I need one," which was usually closing time on a Friday night. And would not be able to deliver the car to the customer because of it. Frustrating to both customer and owner, customer wanted his car back, and the owner didn't get paid until the job was done. And in the case of a body shop, thousands of dollars of income would have to wait over a 50 cent item. At 50 cents, the most expensive item he never had.
I am blessed by having a great car mechanic, and an even better go-to guy for my motorcycles. I don't wait for appointments, and it is rare I wait for parts. They know they can't fix things properly without the parts. These shops are out there, guys who "get 'er done" while others just make you wait. And over the years sadly many have gotten used to waiting, when they don't have to. SOP is fix the problem, so many don't resort to VOR ordering, Vehicle Off Road, which allows overnight shipment. Others are just creative, or resourceful. But in each case, get 'er done.
A few years ago, coming back from Oregon, my rear wheel bearing went out on the Tiger. I had been in two flash floods earlier that month, in Ohio and Oklahoma-what is it about the "O" states, and it finally let go in Paso Robles. No Triumph dealer, and no Mickey for 300 miles, so I called him, could he overnight me the part from Triumph? He called Shel at Triumph, who called me-they had no stock, and had never sold one-they are that good, I guess. So he called England to get me info, all bearings have a universal number, and then called me back. It would be a week to the colonies, check with a local bearing house.
In the meantime, the shop I took it too, who also rented trucks, I was about to truck it to Mick, told me he could fix the problem. He took out what was left of the old bearing, and found out it was a kit from Honda. Problem solved-while Theresa and I went to the water park. Both Shel and Mick were amazed, and glad to get me back on the road so soon. I was just thankful-for them going out of their way, but also to this little shop in Paso, where this old time motorcycle mechanic got the job done-and cheaper than a dealer including his tow bill.
Although this caught us by surprise, this was not a surprise for God. He had all the things and people in place I needed, I just needed to pray, listen for his answer, and then obey. Grace is like that-although it is all about God, without our obedience we may need His mercy later. We forget that God's repair shop is open 24 hours, He has the parts, and the knowledge of how to fix the problem in your life. Not seeking Him is a bigger problem. Problems can be good, the solution is better. You see if I had never been sick, I would not know Jesus as the great physician. If I knew it all, He would not be the ultimate rabbi. If I had it all, I would not know Him as Jehovah Jireh, my provider. If I was as smart as I think, I would have missed out of the wonderful counselor. And if I was without sin, as I am now because of Him, I never would have known Him as my savior. Something to consider next time a problem surfaces. Go straight to Jesus-and watch as He works things out.
Shel and Mick are friends, and a motorcyclist's best friend-don't wait until you have a problem to meet Jesus. Call on Him today, and maybe miss out on tomorrow's problems. But know that when you need Him He is ready and able to help you with anything you may encounter.
Or you could wait for two weeks for parts-I'd rather be riding. With Jesus. I understand He is pretty good with Harley parts too.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

can't you see or are you just blind?






John was blessed with good mechanical skills. At a time when VW Bugs were popular, he became quite good at fixing them, and opened his own shop. And made a lot of money over the years, which allowed him and his family to live the So Cal lifestyle so important to him. He had all the desert toys, including a 30' trailer, which made him the envy of many desert rats at the time. His wife shopped at Nordstrom's, and his son had all the latest toys. He made good money, but like most of us, lived beyond his financial means, but the steady cash flow kept him afloat. And the more loans he paid off, the better his credit, and more offers for more cheaper money flooded in. And although he had made a name and reputation for himself in the VW community, he saw the market shrinking, and that more money was to be made in BMW and Mercedes Benz repairs.
So he decided to join in on the high end car repair trade. He closed his VW shop, rented some expensive property in downtown San Diego, and was going to show the other shops how to do business. He set up his shop rather well, and thought the appearance would be important, more than the techs to fix the cars. He promised what he thought was much to him, but in the market he now was in, it was standard procedure. And although he was a master around a four cylinder air cooled VW, he was in over his head on a 24 valve BMW. He got some cars to fix initially, and found out many things, to his disadvantage. One was what he thought was superior customer service, was the standard in this market, and he fell short. Where once he had credit with all the VW parts houses, now he had to pay cash, he was a new customer now, and if he needed a part, had to pay up front. Which if it was wrong, may take all day to get the right one, if they would take it back at all. Repairs that should have taken an afternoon, now would be hopefully done the next day-a level of service not acceptable. And soon his reputation began to get around as a nice guy who meant well, but was in over his head. And soon where the lot would be full, now there were empty bays. Less cars meant less techs, which meant less income. Everything went down except his overhead.
And then the cracks began to appear, noticeable to all but his ego. On one visit I found he had moved all his desert toys into one of the bays, not being used. They were all for sale, and finally at lower prices to move them fast-he needed cash. He was overextended, and without cash flow was living day to day, sometimes car to car. His credit lines evaporated after he closed his old shop, they were all based on what he had done, not on what he wanted to do. And on one visit, I found his once enviable 30' fifth wheel occupying two bays in the shop, leaving only one for repairs. Which was OK because he had to let go all his techs. The reason the trailer was inside was because they were living in it, and hiding it from the finance company. They had lost their home, and were reduced to the trailer, which literally was on borrowed time. Where he was once on top, he now was on the bottom, with more bottom to come. His family couldn't stand the strain of living a lesser lifestyle, and soon his wife left him, taking her BMW with her, and their son. John soon was living alone in the shop, sans trailer, and that was the last time I saw him. Bitter, his ego blamed everyone else. He felt because he was successful at one thing that he would be successful at all things. Truly pride went before the fall, the last I heard he was doing VW repairs again, at one of his competitors shops for flat rate wages. His business, family, toys, and all he had thought important were gone. He never saw what everyone else around him did, and had come full circle, back to where he had started out. Not at all like he had planned... and not alone in that arena either.
I attended a Bible study at a low end hotel downtown last night. Many nice people, just trying to get by. Where life had dealt them a bad hand based on poor decisions, they were making a go at it. They too had made mistakes, and now were paying the price, with survival higher on the list than their dreams. And as I watched, and listened, I was reminded of many things, among them except for the grace of God go I. As a group, I find many times people in desperate situations don't listen. Like John they thought they knew it all, look out world here I come! But as they sunk deeper, found out that no one listened to them. Which made them angry, resentful, bitter, and soon found solace in other destructive ways. Drugs, alcohol, and crime become the norm, as survival means me first, screw you, others don't even appear on the list. And sadly there is always someone who will listen to them, not for their advantage, but to further take advantage of them.
What I saw last night encouraged me. For one, those of us who went truly have a heart for these people. We listened, and in this world where they have to even ask to use the shared bathrooms, we were guests in their home. A role they didn't often get to share. They were able to call the shots, and I was blessed to listen to them read from the Bible. To watch them share their testimonies and thoughts on tape, and saw something rise in them-self worth. A sense of value, only found in Jesus Christ. They were a somebody, not a something. A person not a number, all because someone cared enough to show up and listen. To come along side of them, to be an advocate and love on them. They got to see Jesus in person, not in some sermon, and were loved as they were.
You may never sink so low as John did, or end like so many others at the bottom of the social scale. You don't have to hit bottom before turning it all over to Jesus, so don't wait. Let Him handle the small things before they turn into big things. Ask Him, then listen for His answer, and then obey. Grace works best when done in obedience. And watch as the small things take on a new importance. Watch as a hug can bring a smile that no sermon can. That they too have things to share, and may even end up blessing you. One bad decision may have gotten you into trouble today, one good decision to trust Jesus can get you out. It may not be instantaneous, so hang on for the ride. The things you endure for Christ will provide a witness to others of God's love and strength, a small example of having greater love-caring more about others than you do yourself.
And you can't do it yourself, just look at John's example. He started at the top, and worked his way to the bottom. Most of us are somewhere in between. Which way the elevator of life goes depends on which button we push. God tells us to set our sights on things on high-heaven. Push the up button. No one ever starts out to be a failure, but many do. Trust God, keeping your sights set on Him. And find that no matter where you are in life, He is there-listening. He sees and hears your cries. And is always willing to answer, and always does. Can we say the same thing about us? Do we hear and see God?
Isn't it strange how everyone else can see the splinter in your eye, but never see the log in their own? You can control your tongue, but not your ears. Listen...the answer may be only as far away as the next voice you hear...make sure the voice is Jesus! None are so blind as those that will not see!
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com