t-shirt theology

To those of us who have chosen to rebel against suits, ties, and shirts with collars, we have found solace in t-shirts. The very same clothing item we used to wear under our collared shirts, white of course, at least at first, has now become a daily item for most of us. When God called me into ministry, and I got rid of all my suits and ties, I kept one shirt with a collar, which in almost five years have never found the right scenario to wear it. Church-no. Weddings-uh uh. Funerals, black t-shirt is fine, under leather, of course. And when so many feel the need-pressured, to dress up, I stay comfortable, like many of my friends in the proper t-shirt. I marvel at those who try to be cool via a trend, but trendy will never be confused with cool, just under a delusion. But we can tell... So I have a wardrobe of t-shirts. Some from our various travels, some from cool places we have eaten. Some represent motorcycles, and some have the vintage look, mainly because they are. Like their owner. Not old school ,just school. Still not sure at what age my t-shirt becomes vintage, but somehow we know. So when I heard the Hollister Rally is back on for 2013, I looked through my collection of Hollister Rally shirts, some never having been worn. And looked forward to this years, and hopefully next. But I also came across some shirts I had forgotten about, and some good rides, and memories came from them. But just as there are my favorites, some have become worn out from wear. And at some point will get elected to the T-shirt Hall of Fame, aka the garage. For old t-shirts make great polishing cloths. Cotton absorbs oil and brake fluid. And unlike the trendy nitrocellulose polishing rags, they don’t melt when rubbed against a hot exhaust header, or when you touch a warm head. Nope, t-shirts, the good old cotton ones go one until they are shredded. And it is with regret that we finally have to throw our old friend away. Finally worn out, not functional, but the memories remain.

Now my wife also uses old t-shirts for cleaning and dusting. What is a swifter but old t-shirt material? So why buy one when an old t-shirt will do? But what about using the wrong t-shirt? In the pecking order of t-shirts, some have hallowed status, as they would never go into the rag pile. Torn, shredded, stained, and unwearable, I’ll let you know if it is or isn’t, some just go from closet to drawer, saved but forgotten about, until looking for something else misplaced, and I come upon them, and the cycle of memories start again. But some still get used as rags, and even then some are for oil, some for washing, some for polishing. A true caste system of cotton-and you thought it was just a shirt. Please don’t ever call them rags.

Now if you have ever spent time around cars, shop rags are a good thing to have. But never have the absorbancy to clean up when the oil runs out of the drain plug hole, left empty when you forgot to replace it before you filled the crankcase. They don’t clean up brake fluid very well, and have no absorbancy like a t-shirt. Once again cotton is king. And although they are reusable, when mixed in with ones from machine shops when cleaned, can pick up metal shavings too small for the eye to see, but not too small to scratch the paint. And so again t-shirts to the rescue. And the tale goes on...

Now the Bible has a thing or two to say about filthy rags. Even in this pre-petroleum era, rags were used. I am not sure about t-shirts though, have never seen a Jesus shirt from then, although I have some I have bought here myself.
But the scriptures tell us that our righteousness is as filthy rags. And that they are like our righteousness, they fade away, when overcome by our iniquities. But just as a rag’s purpose is to clean up a mess, when we are done with them we dispose of them, environmentally correct of course, right? But what of our righteousness? It depends on where your source of righteousness comes from. If from yourself, bragging on your good deeds, and bringing praise upon yourself, you have some dirty rags. But if you are walking with God, with His righteousness shining through you, then it is His righteousness you possess. And like your favorite old shirt, you want to cling to it, and wear it whenever possible. Until it is worn out, and goes from closet to drawer, to garage, to pile, to eventually the trash, when it is of no use anymore. Sadly many live their lives like that, starting out strong in the Lord, and ending up in the trash heap. No one ever sets out to fail, but whenever you trust your own righteousness, you are headed that way. How sad it is to see an old friend, once walking with God, but having fallen away. Drifting like leaves in the wind, a soiled t-shirt of a life. Not putting God first, but seeking a righteousness based on self, as if anything outside of Jesus Christ could ever be labeled righteousness. Filthy rags can either become filthy form being used, or being misused. That decision is yours. And like I have heard biker’s say about their colors, “if it isn’t in your heart, don’t wear it on our back.” Jesus wears stripes on His back He took for us, do we wear Him on our hearts?

It is our sin that separates us from God, and His righteousness. No t-shirt, club, colors, church, or religion can restore that. Only Jesus is the way to God, the stepping stone. He became the dirty t-shirt that was once new, and then worn out for our sins. He was thrown into the trash, only to rise again-sin and death couldn’t hold Him. So I ask, what are you holding onto? Is it time to change shirts, to get some new rags? If they are dirty due to sin, replace them now. If from doing God’s will, save them, but keep the clean ones handy,too. We never know when the chance to fall into sin will attack us, so like your mother told you, wear clean underwear. Wear a clean heart with Jesus, but don’t hide it under your outer clothes. Wear Him where He can be seen. Maybe someone will ask where you got that cool shirt? And it doesn’t have to be a religious shirt either. Remember trendy will never be cool, but Jesus always will be.

It is Valentine’s Day today, and my wife has a heart shirt on. The shirt she bought to wear during my open heart surgery. I don’t ever see that one becoming a filthy rag, or being used as a dust cloth. No car waxing for it, for it represents something that reminds her of Jesus. For us it is a sign to remind her of my new aorta, of Jesus changing our lives. Of saving mine against all odds. And it gives her a chance to share a testimony of His righteousness. A shirt that will never become like a filthy rag. Not all rags end up dirty. Used yes, but not dirty. Stay clean with Jesus, be cleansed in His blood. Be reminded of His righteousness, not your own. He saved us from the rag bin, the least we can do is wear a clean shirt to remind others.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com 

take it on the lam Lefty before the chicken potters out

The quickest way to be misquoted is to open your mouth and say anything. Add to that an audience, a few who love to gossip, and those who love to hear it, and you have a recipe for disaster. Then all it takes to push me over the edge is some well meaning person to say “I understand,” and even some rock lyrics make more sense. It is like Neil Young and Joni Mitchell, the king and queen of weird had kids, and taught them to speak. Add a dose of Tom Waits, words from his signature song, “The Piano has been drinking,” and you can feel like he did, “I rather have a bottle in front of me, than a frontal lobotomy.” Get it? If you do, please don’t try to explain...we sure don’t. And maybe we don’t want to know...or are better off not knowing! But for years opinions have been loosely formed on things people said, will say, or never said. It is like all the so-called political pundits explaining what the politicians say-they lie. To each other. Let’s just try and define our economic condition. If my neighbor loses his job, that’s a recession. When you lose yours that’s a depression. When you can pay all your bills, things are doing fine. I just may have to rethink my Neil Young opinion, suddenly he makes more sense than the president!

For years we have been enamored by rock stars, music, and their lyrics. My friend Bruce thought Paperback Writer was Take a Fast Right Turn, I can still hear him singing. Herb Alpert had a hit with “This Guy’s in Love with You,” yet many heard the sky’s in love with you. Heard it through the grapevine? Marvin Gaye or Creedence Clearwater? Even Steve Urkel was known to say “did I do that?” And as Agent Mulder seeks the truth, “the truth is out there,” Scully rolls her eyes, and we have hit show. Or like the prologue to the hit series SOAP, “confused? You won’t be after watching this episode...” Do inquiring minds really want to know? OK, repeat it back to me. OOPS.

So being misquoted is not a new phenomena. It has been going on for years. Centuries actually, and we find it occurring in the oldest book of the Bible, Job. A story that so many theologians, pastors, teachers, and comedians have misunderstood for years. To start with, God has everything under His control. He saw Satan and asked Him if he would consider His servant Job? Satan tried to twist things, and of course the rest is history. But perhaps the most oft quoted person in the story is Mrs. Job, whose single line has brought much wrath upon her for years. Great teachers lambaste her, but very few have tried to see it from her viewpoint. And then they forget her husband’s response. Misquoting him of course. Here’s the scene, Job has been afflicted with boils, sickness, and has lost all his wealth. He was rumored to be among the richest men at the time. His children have died, and he finds himself hurting, and alone. Then his wife enters the room. Seeing him in distress, she utters her famous quote, “give up your integrity, curse God, and die.” Ever feel like that-don’t. But his answer is often forgotten, or again misquoted. He simply told her you sound “like” a foolish woman,” he never accused her of being foolish. He saw her within her situation, for she had lost everything he did, including her children. Would you talk to a widow that way? But he saw through her condition, and how she was acting out of character in her distress. And loved her through it, despite his own misery. A precursor to the words of Jesus who said “greater love has no man than to lay down his life for another.” He simply put her first, and cared for her despite his condition!

Last year when I was life flighted and had open heart surgery, my wife Theresa had to deal with many things. Among them her own emotions, and the fact her husband was dying, and could be dead. But I find that her greater love for me kept me going. I never knew how much she really loved me until the worse part of our vows revealed itself. We all want the better and healthy part of the vows, she was faced with the worst, and death, with unhealthy included. And in my situation, I love her even more. She was truly the brave one through this, I had a staff of doctors and nurses to attend me. She had to run a household, find transportation, resources, a place to live, and deal with Andrew having shoulder surgery-all from 1000 miles from home. Now what was your problem? Do you think she might have some insight to your situation? But she trusted God, and the end result was miracle after miracle. And just like God restored Job everything twice as much, He has rewarded us as such. I don’t get it, but love doesn’t demand of itself, so either should you. Let god be God, it is hard enough to be me sometimes, even in good situations.

Ragland T. Tiger once gave advice to his friends, “take it on the lam Lefty before the chicken potters out.” Leave before it gets worse, or worse yet, someone tries to help and console you, understanding of course. So take my friend Bruce’s advice, and take a fast right turn, turn to God. This guy Jesus is in love with you. So let Him. And reconsider Mrs. Job next time someone tries to help, or you are misquoted. God knows, and will restore you-or even better. Don’t act foolishly, or even be accused of being a fool. My wife had to make many decisions without me by herself, and did a great job. Love will do that to you. Let all your decisions be based on love, no one misunderstands that. Put others ahead of you, seek Jesus first, and watch as He adds everything else. And to all the Mrs. Jobs out there, you had a great husband, who loved you dearly. Make no mistake about that! Wives, and husbands, we should all be so fortunate. I know I am.

Having a bad day? Like God said, “consider my servant Job.” Now put your name in there. Maybe God is bragging on you, maybe for others to see Him in the situation. What you see depends on who you are looking at. Look to Jesus. For where sin abounds, grace abounds even more. Can I hear an AMEN to that?

And with apologies to the Beach Boys, “she’ll have fun, fun, fun till her daddy takes her t-shirt away, or was it tuba?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

ride your own biography

While watching this fourth grade prodigy play classical music on the piano, I was amazed and impressed by it. Her little hands moved so smoothly, yet so fast. She said she practices 2-3 hours each day, and it shows. But to her it may just be a labor of love, rather than “you need to practice your piano. We spent a lot of money on those lessons.” Ever hear that one growing up, or saying it now? But again it appeared to be a labor of love, and I was impressed. More than anything because I have no musical skill, and I get very impressed with those who can do things I wish I could. I was also impressed by her small hands, I never heard of a concerto written for small hands, although on an old Burke’s Law they caught the killer because he had written one for his oversized hands, and his killer was caught because he couldn’t play it, his hands were so small. So rather than write his own, he killed the composer. I guess that makes for a better mystery. And as her hands get bigger she will get better, and hopefully write her own compositions. So much for TV drama.

For years we have been telling people to “ride your own ride.” We all have different skills, and when placed on different bikes will ride different. The old adage about “a good rider on a bad bike is better than a bad rider on a good bike” is true. I have ridden with ape hangers, clubmans, clip-ons, and been comfortable. I have drug foot pegs and floorboards. And had guys ride away from me when I was on a better bike. I didn’t want to kill them, just learn from them. So it is when we talk about rides we’ve taken, it can make a difference on what bike you choose to do it on. I have ridden coast to coast on my old Sprint ST in less than 70 hours. Pretty good I think. I have done 1000 mile days on bikes set up for it.
Then along comes my friend Nathan, founder, president, and all around good guy, of BA-Moto, a group of young guys who ride hard and fast on old school bikes like Bonnevilles. He recently made it into an ad for Triumph called Ride your own biography. Cool title. But he did it by riding his Scrambler to Alaska and back in 10 days-over 4400 miles! No big deal on a Wing, but on a Scrambler, with 50 horsepower, I was impressed. And they camped, except for Hyder in Alaska. Now that impresses me, and while my almost 900 mile day on my Bonneville was impressive, he showed true guts, courage, and a bit of crazy in doing this. Also the bike has over 75,000 miles on it. Still crazy? How far and how many miles do you ride? Just a ride for him, as he has also ridden 1000 mile days on it too. Maybe just like the little girl piano prodigy he is just practicing for his next ride. And he loves it...

When the average rider only rides 6000 miles per year, my 8-11,000 mile trips must seem unbelievable, or a fabrication. But they aren’t, I have done so many, they are just another long ride. “Thank you sir, can I have another?” And whereas we ride 150 miles for a meal, some get tired going 5 miles. I guess we are both riding our own biographies. But when the road calls, you need to answer the call. Too some it is a hardship, my least favorite people are those who complain “I would never do that,” and wonder why we never call them. Or decline when they want to go for a ride. I get the excuses-kids, money, wife who won’t ride, sadly those are choices you made. Don’t divorce her, don’t trade in the kids, and budget some money. Take her out to lunch on a short ride without the kids. Could be the invitation she is just waiting for. And with Valentine’s Day almost here, could be that riding together is the closest she has has hugged you in months. So no excuses...I can’t hear them in my helmet anyway. If her seat is uncomfortable, or you ride too fast for her, try another seat, maybe another bike. Could be the chance to move up you’ve been waiting for. Again too fast on the wrong bike, could be just right if she is comfortable. Ride your biographies together. She could be your next prodigy in waiting, for you just another ride, for her a giant step of faith. Remember your first ride, if you weren’t scared how come you wet your pants? You started out as someone else’s prodigy-the next one to ride. And look at you now.

I am not sure how many centuries prodigies have been around, but it seems each person has someone they aspire to be, or look up to. Then along comes Jesus. Teaching in the temple at age 12, then working as a finishing carpenter until age 30, then ministry for 3 1/2 years. Riding His won biography. Yet I wonder, age age 12 did anyone consider Him to be a prodigy? Who else was ever mentioned that could do what He did? Did He ever attend Bible studies, VBS, or Sunday School? Can you see Him not wanting to go to the temple because a game was on TV? Or it was nice weather to go riding? No, He loved spending time with His Father, and teaching about Him, sharing both of their biographies. He fished, He catered, He healed, He wrote, and He did whatever needed to be done. And enjoyed doing it..he just called it love. A true prodigy, but how many would consider Him one? How many would you consider one of His prodigies? We are always better doing things we enjoy, and it shows. A labor of love. For some we have a passion to ride. For some to play golf-it keeps them off our roads. Some play tennis, some scrapbook, and some watch TV. But how many of us are riding our own biographies based on Jesus? How many want to hang out with Him, and read/study His word? How many hide under the covers on Sunday morning-it never worked for me. So let Jesus give you the desire of your heart, like is promised. Then He will fulfill the desire He has given you. Some bake, and some eat for Jesus. Some teach, some baby sit. Some need to be babysat. Ask Him, and then ask Him to bless your passion. Some of the best Bible teachers I ever heard were full on heathens at one time, until Jesus changed their life. Be true to the passion, be true to the calling Jesus has given you, don’t try to argue with Him. He wins every time, and you don’t have to be a loser.

So next time someone accuses you of riding too fast, maybe they ride too slow. Too far, maybe just not enough. You are inviting me to church? And you want me to go? Consider the fact, why would I want to be like you? If miserable, where is your joy? Too many rules, where is your freedom? Now be the one that Jesus wants you to be, a true ambassador of Christ. Live your passion.

We are all prodigies at one time or another. Become a prodigy of Jesus. Ride your biography with him, and enjoy the ride. Practice, it tends to make perfect. Maybe that week off riding is just what you need to spend with the Lord. All trips begin with the first mile, make it a labor of love. So, was Jesus ever a prodigy? Spend time with Him and find out...the answer might amaze you. As for me and my family..,we ride, therefore we aren’t here. Life may not be a vacation, but you can live it like one. Just don’t make any excuses to Nathan about riding.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

SALT-that was me

As you know I ride a lot, and a lot of different motorcycles. Let’s just call me blessed, because I am. But a few years back when Mickey called it was different. They were making a movie with Angelina Jolie called SALT, and Triumph was loaning them a new Street Triple R for the film. In it she rides for 61 seconds being chased by her former co-patriots. They think she is a spy who betrayed them. But she rides the Stripple in the movie and those wonderful sounds you hear are me. Add that to your pile of who cares, an answer that will never appear on Jeopardy, or win any trivia contests. But riding up to a remote area outside Lancaster, I met two sound men, and made over 100 passes at over 100 mph-and got paid for it! If that sounds lie bragging, it is. Now the sound guys were definitely not motorcycle enthusiasts. They were a little, no a lot nerdish, but we got along fine. He had started reading off a script of sounds he needed, and after a few minutes, I just said, “give me the scenarios, and I’ll ride the bike-you’ll get the sounds. And he did, and I did, and they did. The envelope please, “for most fun had while doing sound for a movie he’ll never go to see...Mike Mohn!”

And I haven’t, because I don’t do movies, old ones yes, black and white, yes. But while on Youtube yesterday, I googled “Triumph Angelina Jolie,” and up it popped-all 61 seconds of it. And to say I was impressed at the riding was an understatement. The plot was a little shaky, but the riding great. And the sound...oh if only I had been there, wait a minute-I was! And after watching it a few times, there is one part that brought a huge smile to my face, and I remembered the sound man’s words, “you’ll be in the theatre, watching the scene, and when you hear it, you’ll want to shout ‘that was me!’” And I found that spot, maybe two second worth, but turned it into many minutes of “that was me.” For one, I was impressed how well the sounds of the Stripple matched the scene, no 27 shifts in three seconds while going 20 mph, they matched. But the sound I remembered was made by riding at him over 100 mph, while he was standing on the shoulder. Then at the last minute, veering away-this guy was tough, or real stupid to be standing like that, and then accelerating away-in various gears. Coming within inhces of hitting him-that’s show biz. I can still remember it, and now I saw the scene-and he was right-that was me. See the movie, or Youtube it, and hear it-that was me! Note at about 45 seconds pay attention, or you’ll miss it.

And no I never met Angelina, although I hear she rides, and never saw the movie until the Youtube excerpt yesterday. But the sound-you had to be there, and now you can. Listen for it, you may have to endure it a few times, but you’ll hear it-music to my ears. And I hope yours. Now it took over 100 passes because I wanted to get it right, and give him sound different sounds to work with, Ok I really was having fun. But once I got into it, I wanted to ride more...and more...and more...

Cut to church on Saturday night-we have an awesome worship team. Led by John Wickham-father of Evan and Phil, he has been around Maranatha Music since the 70’s, and was part of The Way. He not only plays guitar, but is a true musician, which is more than just playing the notes. But this isn’t about him, but the piano player, whose name I don’t know. As I watched his hands on the big screen, they never hesitated, and seemed to flow making music. They were incredible, and it dawned on me he was no beginner. He just didn’t show up and play once a week, but lots of practice at home and with the team. Which to him may not have been practice, but just having fun, like when I was riding. But it showed in his playing, as he added to the music-not drawing attention to himself, or away from others, but bringing harmony. He was in tune with the scene, and thoroughly having fun, true worship is fun, and is more than just singing the words while the correct notes are played. It starts from within and flows, and flows...steady with the throttle hand Mike...

I love to listen-NOT-to actors when nominated for an award, saying the nomination is the award, false. No one sets out to be mediocre, so hide your false humility elsewhere. I also know too many that just come to Christ, and then go on with life, not letting Him be any part of it, except for one hour they begrudgingly give over to church each week, except if there is a game on they want to see, or a ride to ride. Been there, done that-so you’re not alone. But Jesus wants us to have an intimate life with Him, to be included in all things we do. He says He’ll never leave us or forsake us, so He is hanging around waiting for us to welcome Him on the ride, or into our lives. While listening to worship it is more than words and notes-it is music, and to God sounds wonderful. But until we reach heaven, where perfect pitch resides, we will still be making joyful noises, some better than others. But music is more than notes, words, and a good beat. It incorporates all that, and is played from the heart. “If music be the language of love, play on,” the shirts said in the 70’s. And so as I watch some play notes, chords, and struggle, I am amazed at how some have the music flow from them. There has to be a difference, and the spirit makes it. The intimacy of singing to God, of watching the harmonies of song touch our heart brings us together in the spirit. And where the spirit is, there is liberty. And since God is love, maybe music is His language. So play on! All this from a man who cannot paly any instrument, and has trouble tuning a radio. Ah, but the spirit...

So seek Jesus, ask Him into your life, to live with you. To go to work with you, to ride with you, to hang out with you. Hey, I hear He is even cool with going to church. So hang with Him. And find your notes turn into music, words turn into verses, and that your heart is touched by His spirit when you include Him. And at that right moment when you meet Him face to face, you can shout, “that’s me. That’s Him!” But better yet you can shout “that’s us!” I never met Angelina, nor do I care too. But I do know Jesus, and if I met her I would love to share Him with her. Maybe on a pair of Street Triples, out having fun. Making music by twisting a throttle. And neither one will have to ask “are you having fun?” We’ll know. But I’ll know Jesus, and that will make all the difference. Worship by playing the throttle. Let Him make a difference in your music, worship, riding, marriage, work, or life today. And when others hear the testimony, you can say “that was me!” Humbly of course, too bad you can’t brag about how humble you are. So brag on Him, standing or sitting, brag on Him.

Jesus Christ-you had to be there. And now you can.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

missed by that much

Question-why do they call it common sense when it isn’t common at all? A question for the ages in this age of litigation. Our old attorney once told me 80% of his business would go away if people used common sense, maybe we should call it uncommon sense. And the latest one I read about is some fool suing Subway for advertising their 12 inch sub, when he measured it it was only 11-11 1/2 inches long. Missed by that much! So Subway starts measuring their bread, and finds most are 12’’, we’ll see where this case goes. Next will be burgers advertised by weight, such as quarter pound or 1/3 pound. Note the small print, *precooked weight, all the fat fried out of them will reduce them in weight and size. The buns didn’t get bigger, the burger smaller. Think of it as a reduced fat burger, and have another. Feel better now? Yet things are not always what they appear to be. Arby’s substituted real roast beef back in the 70’s, and people complained, “it doesn’t taste like real roast beef.” So they went back to their processed roast beef loaf, and now all is well. So in a world where real doesn’t taste as good, 11 inches= 1 foot, and precooked weight is in small print, no matter common sense doesn’t work. Comprende?

Did you ever try to get that .9 cent per gallon into your tank, they never round down, just up. Once got paid at Sears $237 1/2 per hour. I never saw that half cent. Maybe they invested it in foot long subs, again missed by that much. I ranout of gas once on m Thunderbird Sport, and coasted into Los Gatos down Highway 17. When I filled up the tank took 4.5 gallons, the owners manual said 4.2 capacity. Which was wrong, the manufacturer who built and designed it, or the Bureau of Standards who tested it? “From the government and here to help?” Which makes me wonder why Ivory Soap floats, they claim it is 99.44% pure. What is the other soap that sinks in my tub? 99.43? Do numbers really count, or should I quit counting altogether?

Catch 22 was a book written about fliers in war, who after completing a certain number of missions could go home. But when they hit that number, they found the quota had been raised, seemingly unreachable. Catch 22! So why do we not believe that every time we build a better mouse trap, they build a better mouse? Why are their new viruses every day on my computer? Common sense tells me....I’m not really sure what it tells me. Think I’ll go have a foot long sub. Or maybe a 6 incher? Does 6 inches still equal half a foot?

I had a teacher once who gave me a C, because I should have done A, but did B. Common sense? Ever get an 89, a B+, when a 90 meant an A-? One point can keep you out college. And is an 88 or 87 still a B+? How low do you go for an A-? And why in an attempt to keep prices down, do we see chip bags go from 16 to 14 to 12oz., when the bag is still the same size? A 2 liter is now reduced to a 1 1/4 liter for the same price, but a 20 oz. Coke still costs more. What is going on and where will it all end? When a sign in Tennessee tells me I am going both east and west on US 70, does anybody know which way I‘m really going? Better yet, does anyone really care? Missing by that much is still missing. No one’s girlfriend is ever just a little pregnant, although she may be a little late.

Good news, God doesn’t grade on a curve. In fact, your grades don’t matter to be saved, good thing. Maybe that is why the gospel is called Good News. You cannot earn it, buy it, buy into it, or get in by knowing someone. It is a gift from God, via His son Jesus Christ. A gift, that you can either accept or reject. Simple so that even I can get, yet so many religious types make it harder than it should be. Do this, study that, or join this. Pay your tithes, and when you get your act together, we’ll see if you are worthy. Sadly we will never be, and God knows that. So He saves us by grace. But He also shows us mercy while not saved yet. Bringing us to the point where we make a decision. And again common sense isn’t. Why would you choose death and torment over grace and mercy? Why choose hell over heaven? And so much for those who accuse saying God send people to hell, if He did, why did He send Jesus? He wants none to perish, to go to hell. He is patient with us, unto death do we part, then we go to our final destination. One eternal bliss, worshipping God, no words to express the joy. It is better than a perfect road with an new bike and no traffic. Better than any steak and lobster dinner. And it is free, and goes on forever. And as for the one who denies God, they will end up worshipping Him too, for every knee shall bow and every tongue confess. But in agony separated from Him. No A- or B+, heaven is either pass/fail. Simple enough, so what the final exam question is, is also an open book test. Who do you say Jesus is? That is the question. And Peter knew, “thou art the Christ.” He answered correctly. Here is a free study hint-Peter was right. He scored 100%! Makes sense to me, does it to you? Now that’s common sense.

And no matter what you choose, the answer is always correct. Jesus is who He said He was, and is. No false advertising or precooked weight here. He is 100% pure, walking on water, maybe just floating along the top. He stays the same and the contents are consistent. And He is as far from the east as He is from west, no matter where you are or where you are going. And He invites you along, at no charge. Look around and find that the mercy He shows are even free samples of what is ahead. But a miss is still a miss, and whether you deny Him a lot or a little, you still miss. The same for all sinners, just as the same salvation is available for all. No small print, or a small God. When He says foot long, He means 12 inches.

So don’t sweat the details, He has already dealt with them. Accept the gift, and enjoy the prize. No one in heaven will ever argue about being good enough, but those in hell will wish they had only listened. No attorney to represent them. Or get them out. Jesus Christ, never thought it would take common sense to believe. No catches, only grace, and mercy. Hungry, now will that be smoking or non?

Oh and if you want a longer sub, have someone sit on it on the way home. Thinner and longer-hey does that mean less calories?

Now for metric...

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

but who wants to be the first to find out?

It has been said that hard work never killed anyone, yet I have yet to find any volunteers to find out if that statement is true. Yet we all think we work hard, or at least harder than anyone else. We find that we somehow suffer the lessers at our jobs, and put up with them despite our obviously gifted talents, and we could do more if only they weren’t there to hold us back. These are found in comments of” you’ll never guess what happened at work today,” or “they’re still doing it, I cannot believe why they put up with it?” Translation is they make too much, I don’t make enough, and if I were in charge, things would definitely be different around here. Which is probably why you are not. But back to hard work, no one thinks they don’t work hard. Look at my calluses, my headaches, my stress. Look at my paycheck! Isn’t a zero missing on it? So we go on trying to impress someone, anyone who will watch of how hard we work. Never realizing that the stress of trying to work hard was killing them anyway.

When I was a Service Advisor at MBSD, there were 17 of us in our shiny, glass walled offices. We could shut the door and keep the noise out, but being four walls of glass, all eyes could be on us, and usually were. To some it was like watching a train wreck, somehow you just can’t look away. For others it was look how beautiful my office is, please don’t come in and mess it up. I work for Mercedes Benz and you don’t. Different personalities would breed different paranoias, you figure. But my office was organized, and I kept my helmet and gloves in plain view to remind me of why I was there, and what I was working towards-the rewards of hard work. Yet hard work didn’t seem to be the answer, for you were limited by hours, and some would stay late, or come in on Saturdays. But when Robert, a lead tech who worked a later shift observed when walking the hall behind the offices that all the others were a mess, against Herr Penske’s rules, but mine was organized and neat. And I wrote more business than anyone, what’s up? And so I explained to him that I try to work smart. I leave myself with a clean desk when I leave, so I have the new day’s problems to deal with, not yesterdays. And although I spend more waking hours at work than with my family, we all do, I work so I can go home to them every night. My job wasn’t the most important thing in my life, although the paycheck many times was. I had other interests, a family, a church, and a God who I rather be with, so I spent my time at work working smart instead of hard. And I produced more, had less stress, made more money, and went home on time every night. Sounds simple doesn’t it?

What it took was a commitment, and the desire to follow God first, then let the others be prioritized. And it still works today. But you must be able to let your pride take the day off, and follow God to make it work. I was asked once to teach at a chapter I used to be active in, and leapt at the chance. But when reminded that another Mike may be out there just waiting to have the chance, I declined. And was blessed, it was the right thing, and we all were blessed. Doing the right thing, God’s thing, and God’s way-what a novel thought! And yet we work hard instead, and still call Him Lord, but we are only subservient to ourselves, and our own desires.

A forward to me today reminded me that it is not us who saves, but Jesus. We are just the messengers, which I have been telling others for years. And while the audience gets smaller, I find that many churches are cognizant of that, but go about it all wrong. They work hard instead of working in the spirit-smart. I was once part of the next generation, and we were told who would God lift up for our generation? And I see many today forsaking the old, advertising for the new, and there is no one to lead. So they work harder, stress more, and love less. Which they would never admit to. Yet when confronted with the reality of how we are to make disciples, we think shouting on the street corner His name is the right thing to do. Discipled means disciplined, or meekness, which is power under control. Your power under God’s control, and His power under yours-in love. Doing the right thing although others would sound ok, working smart! Ministering smart! So as I watch others being taught, and all age groups coming together, I see growth, and God provides it. Whereas I see others changing names, eliminating service, and focusing on a certain age group and the church failing. People should not be invited to church, we are the church. We should take it to whoever God puts in our path, not seek for what committees, groups, church boards, or pastors desire. Jesus taught in the tabernacle, but ministered on the street. And in homes, and to friends and strangers. Even to people who ride, have tattoos, and vote Republican! Can we?

Are you a disciple of Jesus Christ? Do you want to be? Are you willing to be taught, instead of teaching? The closer I get to God, the more I find I need Him. Sin stinks more, I find I know less and need to lean on Him more. My church is more important to me, as the fellowship gives me strength. And included in all this I find I am being discipled, and able to disciple others. I desire to equip others to equip others in prisoner ministries, to those in need, and most importantly to my family. Which blesses me in a way no hard work ever could. Working harder and enjoying it less? Try God’s way, and enjoy the work He has set before you. It may give you more time to spend with family, to relax, to ride, and to do the things you want to do other than sleep late from exhaustion. Busy workers are not necessarily productive or happy. Holy means happy, and brings happiness. So try it God’s way, trust Him. Better to do one thing He asks than many that feed the ego. Pride will always go before the fall. And in spring, winter, and summer too. A perennial that keeps on exacting from us, not bearing fruit. So work as a team as God directs. The farmer who seeded the land moves on to another field. Then those who tend to it move to another field. And yet another group harvests it. Each one doing as needed, but not doing each other’s assignment. Try that with God. And find time for all the things that really matter. A clean desk doesn’t have to be the sign of a disturbed mind. Hard work may not kill you, who wants to be the first to find out?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the grass is always greener over the septic tank

If you want to embarrass or hurt someone, nothing is better than an audience. And no matter how high or low they are socially, financially, or whatever size their motor, caution needs to be exercised. The first man in our account today is an internationally known race driver. He has won all the major off road races, and just the mention of his first name would give him away. He is filming a commercial with a new director, who wants it done right the first time, and has heard that this man can be hard to work for. No his name isn’t Robby. He goes to makeup, and then the card girl holds up the cue cards for him to read. ACTION! And he starts off and goes off on his own. CUT! Please just read what is on the card, ACTION! Same thing, and then again. At this point the director blames the young girl, hold them straight, are they I order, are they the right ones? It must be her fault, this man is a celebrity. Then off to the side another racer grabs a Sharpee and writes a few words on a card, hands it to the girl, and tells the director, “try this.” ACTION! With the same results. Incensed the director grabs the cards, and reads the top one-all obscenities, and related to the celebrity’s mother. While the director looks up in rage, the other racer leans over and whispers in his ear, “he can’t read.” No one thought to ask if he could, it was assumed. So he tells the racer, just ad lib, tell it like it is, and we’ll edit it later. He does, and a star is born.

Another racing legend is building his own trucks for a race series. He hires a designer, fresh from college, but with racing experience to design the trucks. As the fastener supplier, I was able to lend him expertise based on years with NASCAR, and off road. But the engineer does it like he was taught, lived in Chicago, raced carts, and never saw a desert before. And wasn’t about to change, even though bolts were breaking, and they weren’t for anyone else. No way was his design to blame. Finally confronted by our engineer, Jimmy D. reviewed with him all the newbie had learned, then took it to application. Reluctantly the owner of these new trucks changed, claiming he was paying this man $75/hour, so he had to be right. And an amazing thing happened, no more broken bolts, the trucks went on to be a success, and we were vindicated. It was like one of my techs at Mercedes Benz was asked to look at a woman’s AC. It had quit blowing, and so he reached under the hood, and replaced a fuse. Instantly the AC blew cold, and she was thrilled, until she asked how much. “Twenty dollars,” he told her. “But you only replaced a fuse, and it took no time.” “Yes,” he replied, “but I knew which fuse.” Maybe having a screw loose isn’t the same as a loose screw.

Finally a third man, not famous, worked with me in a Sears warehouse. They would call down for a part number, give a small description, and we would send it up to them. Simple enough. Until Jeff took one request, “send me a green 21345 blender.” Wanting to please, he ran to the shelf, and looking found none marked green. “We have no green, all we have is avocado.” Avocados are green today, I’m told they were 40 years ago too. Blenders may change, but avocadoes don’t. So it is amazing what we know, don’t know, or think we know. Only to be confronted with the truth.

It had been a hard, long night of fishing. From just a look inside the boats, with no fish, you could tell, and the mood of the men reinforced that. All night in one spot, these trained and experienced men were exhausted. They had fished successfully there for years. And then Jesus comes up to them, and asks how is the fishing? What, doesn’t that add insult to injury? But maybe he just wanted to clarify their position. They admitted their fate, and so this carpenter told the fishermen to cast their nets on the other side of the boat. Reluctantly, they did, only to be amazed, the nets became full, and almost to bursting. The boats then were filled to overflowing, and started to sink before they headed to shore. And Jesus’s only comment, soon you will be fishers of men. Tired, excited, dazed and confused, these to be disciples, would surely go on to do what He had said. But tonight, or this morning they were tired, and had a catch to unload. Now you may ask, when Jesus could multiply two fish into enough to feed the thousands, why couldn’t He just fill the boats? Or command the fish to just swim 20 feet to the other side where the nets were? Fish don’t argue. Wasn’t He God? Didn’t He love these men, and didn’t He feel for their suffering? Yet He answered it the best way, in love. Like all His answers, even though we like to advise Him on how and what to do. When is always right now! You see we like to argue, or negotiate with God. He showed them how to be better fisherman, and how obedience, and depending on the Holy Spirit is their key to success. All from a carpenter. And also to show them prophetically how Peter, this rough and tough fisherman would catch/save 3000 souls on the day of Pentecost. Those words just had to have special meaning to Peter that day! He had become a true fisher of men!

Pride can be subtle, it can be harsh, or dangerous. It can delay the making of a commercial, be dangerous in building a race car, and even make it hard to find blenders. But don’t let it stand between you and God and the blessings He has in store for you. If you can’t read the cues, ask. If the problem gets worse, change direction. Doing the same thing but expecting different results is crazy. And if you don’t know the difference between green and avocado, go by the part number. Ask if you don’t know! James says you don’t have because you don’t ask, or ask with wrong intentions. So next time your nets are empty, you are tired, exhausted, broken, and without hope, ask. Then listen. The answer will amaze you, and include you. And also one very important person, Jesus. But it only works if you follow His directions. The grass may appear to be greener another way, or on the other side of the fence. And it usually is over the septic tank. There is a reason for that. Knowing Jesus makes all the difference. Now which part of all things don’t you understand? ACTION!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com