return to sender-address known

Welcome back my friends, to the show that never ends...but first you must leave so you can return.  And some do and some don’t.  When I left Jersey in 1975 for the wilds of New Mexico, all my friends were sure I would return soon.  I was told it was the same everywhere, why would you want to go to New Mexico, you don’t speak Spanish, but I did and they spoke English, and you’ll be back.  Some 40 years later I wonder if any are still waiting or if any still remember?  But moving out is nothing knew, and we all do it, well almost all, some never leave home, that I don’t get.  And I will admit it was tougher than I had first anticipated, but in the back of my mind I knew I could always return to the safe confines of New Jersey and my parent’s house.  But I never did, and although many times my address was on the road, and like when we had little money and moved to Durango, $11, I always ate, always had place over my head for me and my ride, and never looked back.  But the times I did go back to visit, I found out how  much I had really changed, for my friends hadn’t.  Maybe they were right, it is the same everywhere if you never leave.

But I have friends who did leave and go back, and never seemed happy about it.  They retreated back instead of sticking it out.  Tough times will make tough people, but the toughest times somehow make us more tender hearted when God is in the midst of it.  But what of those who never leave, who stay behind, who make excuses and never see their potential?  Who have always been safe and secure at home, never testing the waters.  Never eating Mexican food in Texas, fried clams in Boston, or fish tacos in So Cal.?  And so it was, and so it is after almost 40 years-home on the road has never been so close yet so far away.

Many know of the story of the prodigal son, the kid who demanded his inheritance, blew it on loose living, ended up broke and eating pig slop, and then returning humbly to his dad, begging just to be a servant.  We are not told the things he learned on the road, and maybe the story should be called the waiting father, for it is more about the father than it is the son.  I often wonder about the things the father taught his sons, and we see a difference in the two, and their attitude to their father.  One wanted out, he had been taught the truth and values instilled in him.  Like scripture tells us our kids will come back to what they have been taught, and he returned, humbled and humiliated, but knowing his father would accept him, he knew his father’s love.  How many nights have we as fathers waited by the phone for our kids to call, wondering how they are, maybe even a letter.  Good or bad news, we love to hear from them.  And the younger rebellious son knew this, and so it was not surprising to see his father run to him.  What a sight that must have been, running in sandals and a robe...but he too may have been humiliated when publicly reminded about “where is your son?”  So both suffered humiliation, but love conquered.  He loved his son no matter what, just like God loves us.  And when he did return, it was a hero’s welcome, for his son had been at war, maybe with God, maybe with himself and his values, but never with his father.  There may have been some harsh words, but his father sent him off in love, knowing how he was, and not surprised when he failed.  It was only when his son confessed his fate, that his father knew.  And having nothing to return with, he found he had everything to return to, as his father loved him, gave him the special robe, and a ring.  Then the party began, for a lost soul had returned.  The son had returned to sender-address known.  And I bet his fahter would have run to him even if he was a success.  That’s love.  And the show that never ends was just beginning.

When the Beatles sang “She’s Leaving Home,” they sang of “something inside that was always denied for so many years...” and that speaks more of the son who stayed home.  Just like the one little piggy who stayed home and had none, he had become bitter.  And really had become the prodigal son, useless, as the word prodigal means useless.  He was jealous, he felt he had toiled for nothing, and had expected everything, his brother was gone.  Like the parable of the talents, he hid his talent in the ground, and never used it.  He expected to earn his inheritance, he knew valuables instead of values.  How different two sons can be growing up in the same home, as Cain and Abel did, and Jacob and Esau did.  They like the real prodigal had forgotten they were their brother’s keeper.  And despite unworthy sacrifices, and selling out for a meal, they both never learned what their younger brothers did.  They never got as close to their father, the younger ones sinning and finding forgiveness, the other not even knowing he sinned.  It was the ones who wondered who really never left the values they learned at home, so we find the older brother bitter, and hating both his father and his brother.  Ironic how one left home and lived and toiled in the dirt of life, while one stayed home and toiled in the dirt.  Of life.

It is the things inside of us, the dreams, visions, and ideas that express us.  And when God leads us, we see life through his eyes.  For just as the father ran to the son who went astray, God runs to us in the form of Jesus, who he sent to reconcile us to himself.  We all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of god, some learn it at home, some on the road.  Some are raised in church and never leave, some go out and find life outside the four walls.  Jesus is in both places, but he taught in the temple, and ministered on the road.  It is the tough times in which our character shows, and forgiveness covers a multitude of sins.  It also reunites us to our father, who puts all our past aside, forgets the sin, and reunites the sinner to him.  Many things you can learn in church, but it takes a step of faith to get out and try them on your own. 

And I wonder if deep down inside the older brother wasn’t jealous?  Maybe he wanted to go, but was afraid.  Maybe he thought he had to stay, and missed the freedom his father had told him about. Maybe he was just lukewarm until his brother returned, we never know if he missed him, only that he was sad he returned.  Two brothers, two sinners, one loving father.  Only one asked forgiveness, and had his inheritance restored.  The other never got his,  salvation is like that.  Some think they have to do good works, to perform, and still hope to make it.  But salvation is a free gift that cannot be earned.  The returning son had nothing to brag about, but neither did the son that stayed home.  It is in our weakness that God’s strength is made perfect...perfect love for all of us who have fallen.  And returned.  I can see his father’s outstretched arms, the tears flowing, and the excitement in his voice.  His neighbors must have thought him crazy, love will do that to you.  Grace cannot be rationalized, it makes no sense.  Maybe that is why it is so amazing...it can only come from God.  So here is to all you who have gone astray, welcome home, the party in heaven is just beginning.  And for all you prodigals, if Jesus never had left his home, where would we be?  I can hear ELP singing at a loud volume in heaven now, the words of a loving father who gave up his son so we could make it there, “welcome back my friends, to the show that never ends, We’re so glad you came along, come inside, come inside...”  Something inside the real prodigal denied for so many years.  Jesus returned to his sender, says so right in the scriptures.  He was and is the King long before and long after Elvis was.  So sad many believe Elvis is alive, yet God is dead.  Take some time to return to your father in heaven today.  For life is not the same everywhere, and either is death.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

maybe it's a poorly designed glass

There was a time when it seemed every other bike on the road said Honda on it.  And a popular saying was “Hondas are like opinions, everyone has one.”  Today with the reemergence of Harley Davidson, it could be said “Harleys are like opinions, everyone has one.”  Being quick to note that Harleys are not like Hondas, and based on their reliability, you shouldn’t trust other people’s opinions either.  But yet we thrive on opinions, changing the facts to match them sometimes, rather than the other way around.  And polls will do the same thing as opinions.  When I lost my job, and the nationwide rate was 7.9%, and it went down to 7.8%, I still wasn’t working and it was still 100% at my house.  Same with crime, I am told crime has gone down, but when my truck tires were slashed, it was up in my neighborhood, and way up at my house.  And it bugs me when in the midst of tragedy, I am told “cheer up, it could be worse.”  And I cheer up and it gets worse.  But the ones I take issue with is those that have to be positive all the time.  “Be glad only one tire is flat.”  What are you nuts?  How about if we swap tires, and now yours is flat?  And suddenly the mood changes, and so does the opinion.  But my favorite is the 5 cent philosopher who will argue “is the glass half full or half empty?”   I tend to agree with an engineer friend of mine, “maybe it’s just a poorly designed glass.”  Dos that make me a half wit?  Which half have I lost, or retained?  Maybe these people should just go find a village and be its idiot.  But that is just my  opinion.  Maybe they are just the opposite of half slow...half fast.

But yet when faced with a problem, we seek opinions, or ask Yelp!, or Angie’s List.  Where people voice their opinions.  Which can be misleading, as a recent TV ad for a web site building company advertises it will even include reviews of your business for you on your new site.  How convenient, maybe they should have bought a Honda.  Or a Harley.  Free, or rather included in the price prepackaged opinions?  I only hope they are good ones, or is there a surcharge for better ones?  Case in point, a friend approaches me last night, he has a sport touring bike.  He tells his dealer he needs a front tire, the dealer quotes him a price, then calls back, “that was for an enduro tire, the right one costs more.”  So he asked me my opinion?  Buy the right tire, duh?  But make sure it is the right tire, if your dealer can’t tell an enduro from a big sport tourer...by the way he owns a Honda.  Maybe the old saying was right.

In the past two days I have dealt with two different men in two different situations, who asked advice.  My first comment, “have you  prayed?”  The deer in the headlight response usually means no.  But yet they have asked opinions of others, and are trying to form their own.  They need facts, they need Jesus.  One man was told about the legal ramifications, and he should sue.  Good advice from a lawyer, yet God’s grace tells us meekness, do the right thing when we can do the wrong thing.  Why not seek God first, like Matthew 6 tells us, yet he is out on an opinion tour.  Listening to the lawyer will bring heartache, bills, and worsen the situation.  God is taking him out of it, he is more concerned about doing the right thing.  I go back to what my attorney of many years once told me, “85% of his business would go away if people used common sense.”  Imagine if we listened to God, maybe 100% would go away!  The other friend has a problem that is a bigger issue, and not knowing, and not knowing anyone, has been telling too many about it.  And is more confused, and making himself look foolish.  I don’t need that kind of help.  Both men are seeking answers, but not seeking God directly.  Was it not God who tells us let God be God and all men liars?  Isn’t Jesus called the wonderful counselor?  What kind of counsel do you desire, I want only the best.  And that may be my opinion, but it is also a fact. 

Many years ago God told me “do not let other people’s opinions become a burden to you.”  Good, sound advice.  But like any good advice, it only works if taken.  So take some good advice here, trust God!  For years when I had to make a decision, I took the Gideon approach.  God show me a wet fleece on dry ground, and then a dry fleece on wet ground to show it is you.  For years I relied on that formula, until one day God’s answer was “why don’t you wit throwing fleeces and just trust me?”  And when I did, my life changed.  But you cannot trust someone you don’t know, so get to know God.  Only through Jesus is that available, that is a fact.  Written in God’s word.  Jesus is the way.  Some of us get in the way, when we need to get out of the way, and listen to God.  Sometimes the shortest line doesn’t move the fastest.  Just because a tire is black and round doesn’t mean it will fit your bike.  And just because you have been wronged, doesn’t mean you should make it worse by doing another wrong thing.  Life can be like riding, two wrongs don’t make a right, but three lefts do.  Trust God, but keep going.  That opinion could just be a just be a poorly designed reason to fail.  Titles and position do make you right.  Knowing Jesus and following his advice will.  Only doctors and lawyers still get paid when they fail.  God never fails.  And since you cannot afford his bill, he makes it free.  Pro bono, just ask.  Pro bono, which is better than Sonny Bono.  Just my opinion.

Today you will make many decisions, some based on previous ones.  The last 7 dying words of the church, or those in it can be “we never did it this way before.”  Don’t let that be your epitaph, or your opinion.  Trust God.  He is more than Hondas and Harleys, more than us trying to right a wrong.  He goes way beyond rights, and goes right to responsibility.  When asked if we are our brother’s keeper, God wasn’t taking a poll, he was teaching Cain a lesson, one so important it is recorded in the Bible.  Where many good lessons, great advice, stories of listening to God and succeeding, and also not listening to God and failing are found.  Where you file your next problem is up to you, but it will show if you trusted God or not?  Over the years the counsel God has given me sometimes was not what I wanted, but it was always what I needed.  And when taken, it worked for me, as all things do when you trust God.  But yet we don’t so God has provided mercy, only available when we screw up.  And grace, described as getting what we don’t deserve, and mercy being not getting what we deserve. 

So let me leave you with this, there is such a thing as a sport enduro tire.  But it may not be what you want or what you need.  Ask God...some are seeking opinions, I’m out riding.  Oh, and don’t look back, Mrs. Lot has a lot to say about that.  Now is that glass half full, or half empty?  Maybe it really is just a poorly designed glass.  And that’s a fact Jack!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

speeds increase as the memory fades

Speed is a relative thing.  Fast is anyone passing me, slow is anyone getting in my way.  And although our thought processes may slow down, the speed in our memories never do.  It may take more time to recall them, but we were faster back then, and with fewer witnesses around to dispute it, the speeds will get faster.  Remember the first ride in a fast car?  And how cool it was?  How about the first time you actually drove one?  And no matter how fast you didn’t go, you told everyone else how fast the car was, and the speeds it hit.  So out there we have the legendary 150 mph Sportster, the Bonneville that will go 200, and 100 mph Beetle.  One of my favorites was the guy who would place a $5 bill in the glove box door crack, and dare anyone to grab it when he took off.  The legend says a hundred dollar bill, I did see a five once, and it bought us lunch at McDonalds.  But somewhere in the lies, dreams, fabrications of truth, and the afternoon bench racing, there were some fast cars and bikes.  And I saw some, rode one, and rode in others.  In high school, some older guys took a 454 Chevy Rat motor, a race motor, and put it in an old 1967 Chevelle 4 door sedan, and challenged people to race.  You would have thought the lumpy idle would have given this sleeper away, but many a GTO and Hemi saw only its tail lights dragging down Mountain Avenue.  Perhaps the first four door sedan I ever had respect for.  Wonder what ever happened to it?  Bouke had a 1973 Z-1, with a Yoshimura kit.  It was fast I thought because he was, but one afternoon on River Road I pegged the throttle in second gear, and hung on for life.  It hit 102 in second, at a time when 100 mph top speed, the ton, was a lot.  I remember it because my helmet blew off my head, and I was more afraid of a Bound Brook cop ticketing me for no helmet rather than the speed.  Bouke was always the fastest, I’m sure he rides a ZX-14 today, probably with a turbo.  The stock ones do 102 in first....maybe times have changed.  Lucio and I cut school one day our senior year, and went down to the Shore in his Trans Am, 1972 version.  The first time I ever went 120, the car seemed to float over the rises on the Garden State Parkway, I was scared, but more excited.  If anyone would believe me. Just two 17 year olds having fun. 

And so it goes, and no matter how fast you were, someone will always be faster.  He may not be telling the truth, but he will win the argument, if only by default.  Now I can say I have really gone 136 mph on a BMW, spent the night in jail for it, the ticket was even framed and hung in the service department at Motorsport in Albuquerque.  I have ridden coast to coast in under 70 hours, receipts to prove I rode, family to see me off and to greet me later.  100 miles per hour, how about 100 miles in one hour?  Done it twice on my FJ1100, once in eastern Colorado, and once between Baker and Vegas.  With Christopher on back.  So I can say I have gone fast, quick, long distance, and can prove it.  Sadly I had many tickets, and lost my license once to prove it also.  So  I am amused when filling up, and a young kid asks “what’ll she do?” to a cycle I’m riding, and looking at the speedo will see 160.  “Wow, it goes that fast?” and not wanting to spoil his illusion, nod in agreement.  Now it’s his story to tell, and the legend continues.  Now speed being relative, a few years ago I rode a Street Triple, that recorded the highest speed.  I showed 131, and was impressed.  Until I saw a black one that had just come back from a magazine, it showed 148.  131 never felt so slow.  On my Street Triple today it only shows 124, tied with Andrew.  I hit the rev limiter on my FJ100 once, according to Yamaha that is 155, according to my old friend Brett, “faster than any sane white man should go.” So I have ridden fast, gone fast, been caught going fast, and hung on for life going fast.  So when someone tries to impress me by fast, I sit quiet, because although I was fast, and still can be if I want, most of my friends were faster.  Some may beat me to the first corner, but many don’t lead me out of it. 

One Sunday afternoon in Golden, NM this guy challenged me to race.  He claimed he had Ron Pierce’s race bike, when he was the #4 plate in the early seventies.  Kept in his van, he kept taunting me telling me my R90S was slow.  Everyone knew BMW’s were slow.  So finally tired of being taunted, especially in front of the two hot girls he had with him, we raced.  Covering 14 miles  in just over 7 minutes.  And I beat him, by so much I was sitting off my bike waiting.  He had more bike than talent, I had more cajones.  Embarrassed, he never said a word, but took off ahead of me, giving the illusion he won upon return.  But he was embarrassed, he and a friend threw the bike in his van,  the hot girls still hot, but now consoling him.  But he still won them, even though he lost the race.  And the next day the word was on the streets....no one ever went that fast on a BMW!

We have become a society of sound bites, sound clips, and headlines.  No one wants to read the article, say it all in the headline.  So that banner better be pretty impressive...or you will lose your audience.  Some 70 years ago a Baptist preacher from North Carolina was out barn storming the country.  He was drawing crowds, people were being saved, and soon he was filling stadiums.  When one Bill Hearst heard of him, he liked his message, although we never did know how he responded to it himself.  But his two word headline, sent out to his nationwide newspaper empire changed the preacher’s life.  It read “PUFF GRAHAM!”  The Graham being Billy, the Hearst being William Randolph.  And the rest is history.. as Billy’s crusades continue even today under Greg Laurie’s Harvest Crusades.  But it took Hearst to help out Billy.  A fact that many don’t know.  And are even more amazed that a secular man like Hearst would puff Graham.  yet we see in scripture many who helped forward the gospel, even if they didn’t know it.  Jesus tells us “all things work together,”  all meaning excludes nothing, includes everything.  All.  Both good and evil, both good times and bad.  And history tells us that every time the church was persecuted, the gospel message expanded even further.  Seems when the church couldn’t meet, they took the message to the streets.  And the church grew.  And it continues today, where in places like China, Sudan, India, and other dark areas, the gospel is going out.  Muslims being saved in the Middle East.  Churches springing up in China so fast the government ignores them, they can’t police the growing numbers.  For just like it takes sand to irritate a clam and make a pearl, all things work together for good for those who seek God.  And we are that all that he uses.  Sometimes one on one, sometimes to a group of students, and some like Billy and Greg.  Sharing a simple message of salvation, making it all about Jesus.  Keeping it simple, so people like me can get it.  In this life you will have tribulation, so you can expect the gospel to grow around you.  It is your choice to hear a story, or be part of the story. 

And so today we find Jesus at race tracks, biker hang outs, drive ins, and even churches.  Wherever two of us are, the gospel goes out, for he is with us.  Sharing testimonies of how he changed our lives, and no matter how incredible, they are more believable than most bench racing stories.  For an infinite God doesn’t cut back on power, or his might, and his spirit still saves.  0 to heaven in the twinkling of an eye.  1/240,000th of a second.  I’m sorry, I thought you said you were fast.  So today as the speeds increase as our memories fade, Jesus never fades.  A light you cannot outrun, and a friend who sticks with you at any speed.  His truth beats any lie of Satan, and he backs it up.  Listen to a testimony and share yours.  See lives changed.  Dare someone to grab the $5 bill hanging in front of him.  But do it fast, time is passing, and his coming is closer today than yesterday.  Fast is a relative term, we are family with God.  How’s that for a theory of relativity?  How many have you passed today on your way to heaven?  How many will you pass today?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

like rearranging chairs on the Titanic

Simple is a relative term, and I find that life is best lived on that level.  Yesterday’s reminder is proof of that.  It is midafternoon, and my phone rings.  It is a friend I haven’t heard from in months, who needs help.  Rather the husband of his receptionist needs help.  The clutch cable on his Harley broke, and he is stuck about 10 miles from my house, can I help?  Sure, have him ride it without the clutch, no big deal.  Silence, and then “can you call his wife?”  “Why, she’s not stuck?  Give me her husband’s number.”  Quick thinking on my part.  So I call him, and find he is stuck 10 miles from my house.  When he admits he cannot ride the bike without a clutch, I explain how to him, it isn’t difficult.  And the silent reply confirms he can’t.  So I offer to go show him, to follow him home, after he admits he has a truck, but no ramp, and his wife is on the way.  Now they both will be stuck.  My last offer is I’ll ride it to his house, and he can follow on my Bonneville, breaking rule #1, don’t let anyone else ride your bike.  But I figure he’s stuck, a friend of an old friend, and no biker should be left behind.  Finding him was no problem, but explaining it in person got me the deer in the headlights look I should have heard in his voice over the phone.  So I explained I’ll ride his bike, follow me, and when we get to your exit go ahead and I’ll follow you.  Sounds easy, so easy a caveman could do it.  And I lost him...rather he lost me, I’m riding at 25-30 mph, and following the exact directions I told him.  Only one turn involved...so I went home with no problems, but was mad, VERY mad.  Where was my Bonneville?  Had he dumped it?  And Ken’s voice kept repeating in my head, from when I offered a Harley group a ride on a Speed Triple, “Mike, no one here can ride that.”  The Harley and I had made it, where ‘s Bonneville?

Now Theresa knew something was up when she heard the Harley, and saw me on it.  “Don’t say anything,” was all I said, and called my friend.  The Harley guy had lost me, couldn’t keep up, at 25-30 mph?  So he went home, figuring I had gone to his house.  I don’t know where he lives, why would I ride there?  And at this point felt like the guy in charge of rearranging the chairs on the Titanic, it was futile, the iceberg had been hit, and the life boat, my Bonneville was gone.  And then the phone rang, my Bonneville was OK, and he would come in his truck and get his bike from me.  Only about 10 minutes away, he punched my address into his GPS, and arrived 25 minutes later, the GPS had taken him 15 miles out of the way!  Suddenly I was running out of chairs to arrange, but he did show up.  Apologetic, but with no tie downs, we keep many sets, and soon we were loaded up and on the way to get my Bonneville.  Which at this point had become the quest, and this guy kept telling me I was his new best friend.  Just give me my bike, and I’ll be off.  Somehow it all ended well, no one hurt except the clutch cable, which looked like an easy fix, I rode home alone, and all hands were accounted for.  As were all life boats.  And icebergs...the chair count is still out.

Now I tell people the first thing to do in a panic situation is don’t panic.  I hadn’t until he didn’t show, and lost me.  And Theresa reminded me angrily “you know better than to let anyone else ride your bike.  And I can keep up with you better than that!”  But then I had taken my eyes off the Lord, and put them on the situation.  Which turned a nothing situation into panic, anger, and thoughts of my bike in an accident or worse.  I had been prepared for the situation, from riding the Harley to loading it in his truck, but had met a rider who was unprepared, didn’t know, and I had to handle basic riding 101 chores.  A 20 minute excursion had taken over 2 1/2 hours, but it ended well.  Too often we look at the situation, and not to the cross.  We look at the question, get frustrated, pray, then act irresponsibly anyway, without letting God answer.  This was no big deal to our Lord, but to both of us who rode, a big deal.  He had trusted me, I delivered, and I had trusted him, he hadn’t.  But God had it worked out, and we all arrived at our homes safe and sound.

But too often we are arranging chairs on our Titanic, we are the Captain Kirk of our own Enterprise, and things don’t go right.  But fortunately Jesus never leaves us, even when we make wrong turns, or those you are leading can’t keep up at 25 mph.  He never gets too far ahead, as any great shepherd does, and he even prepares the path ahead for us, I made it  home with no problems, so did my road call.  But we each leaned on our own understanding, and that is when the trouble began.  Experience can be that understanding, and we all operate at different levels in the spirit.  And without the spirit leading, we get separated from God.  But Jesus came to reunite us to our heavenly Father, and all is forgiven.  And a testimony has been recorded to be shared.  The guy arranging the chairs on the Titanic just kept doing his job without thinking, with no regard to the futility.  It was about lives at that point, not seating arrangements or motorcycles yesterday.  It was about getting home safe, and both of us did yesterday.  The lifeboat God had provided got us where we needed to be, how many ignored the warnings and the Titanic was left with many empty lifeboats, and hundreds perished.   The people on the ship had ignored the crew’s orders, and died because of it.  Our refusal to listen to God may not end in death, but if we fail to turn to Jesus, we go to hell.  Where there are no icebergs. 

Seek God in your situation today, look to the cross instead of the problem.  Pray, listen, then obey.  You may be only up to your ankles, but the water is rising fast.  And in every situation God is able to come through.  But you need to follow him, and that takes faith, then obedience, then trust.  Funny how we trust someone we cannot see to save us, then fail to trust him when we get into trouble.  Sometimes help is the best prayer, and listen is the best answer.  But communication is still the best.  So spend some time in prayer with the Lord today, listen to him, and maybe avoid dangerous situations.  He knows what to do, where the tie downs are, and how to get us home safely.  A lesson of how to listen, and the how to guide others in their situation.  Then it is up to them to listen and obey...something out of your control.  Yesterday my old and new friends were busy rearranging chairs on their Titanics.  God knew the iceberg of a clutch cable was there, and sent me in a life boat, the Bonneville.  When God shows up in your next situation, don’t be afraid to get in with him. Even if it takes giving up your seat in the boat like Jesus did for us.  My panic started when I took my eyes off Jesus, and didn’t see my bike.  Fortunately Jesus saw the whole thing... lesson learned, all safe on shore.  Jesus saves bikers too, and sometimes from ourselves.  Aren’t you glad?  Think I’ll go for a ride.  After checking my clutch cable of course.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

all in a day's ride

Freeways-I can remember reading about them when I was young, and how they were the roads of tomorrow.  Enacted by a request from then President Eisenhower, we needed an infrastructure in case we ever went to war on our own shores, and the Interstate Highway System was created, and roads started in 1956.  I can remember how excited we were when I-78 went in, bypassing most of old US 22, going through wide open fields, two lanes wide of no stop  lights, no businesses to get off at, and very few billboards.  It took us through land we hadn’t imagined, it was out in the country in many places, and was referred to as limited access.  And for a while only sections were open, making us appreciate the freedom of no stop lights for miles, then being routed back on old 22 and waiting in heavy traffic.  New and improved used to really mean that, and freeways were just that.  And they bragged you could drive from the Atlantic to the Pacific and never encounter a stop light-bring it on!  But with no lights, and limited access, came a new standard-boredom.  Set the cruise and go.  No longer did you pass such icons as the Flagship, or Leaning Tower of Pizza.  You went past miles of openness, limited exits, and it took a while to get used to finding your way.  New street names, even new names of towns took some getting used to.  And exits now had numbers, which until only a few years ago took on the miles travelled instead of numerically in order.  Starting in the west and going east, or south to north, if you got on at exit/entrance 33, and needed to get off at exit 96, you could do the math, it was 63 miles.  Giving a “how long until we get there?” question new and more accurate answers. 

So Cal is well known for its freeways, and really to us they are just big surface streets.  Take the 78 to the Golden State, to the San Diego Freeway and you are in LA.  In places up to 7 lanes wide-for faster travel or actually the world’s widest parking lot much of the time.  The average speed in LA on their freeways is all of 17 miles per hour.  Not what you have in mind when you want to go out for a leisurely ride.  But I can get to LA form Sa Diego using surface streets and never touch a freeway.  And it may not take much longer.  A different ride, at a different speed, slowing down to get there faster.  Which brings us to last Saturday, riding our Bonnevilles.  We started the day and C and G Ford’s Open House where Andrew works.  We frequent old car shows each week end, and after great BBQ lunch, it was still early, the weather great, and we were in no mood fro freeways.  Give us slower today, a ride where we didn’t have to think much, and could just cruise.  And the Bonnies were just the ticket.  Going through Escondido, up over the hill into Valley Center took us to a different world.  No cars were out today, they must all be at the malls, for it was great.  Lots of bikes, particularly near Palomar, but it seemed all speeds were down today, and we just cruised.  On roads like Rice Canyon where on the Tiger I go 70-80 safely, today I rode 45 and felt fast in places.  I looked at the homes and trees, and saw things I miss at 80.  Suddenly I was so relaxed that shifting into 4th in places felt fast, so 3rd it was, helping to keep the speed down, but still using all my tires in turns, a much slower fast, with no traffic to concern myself with.  All in a day’s ride, with no freeways to deal with-and the 100 miles of roads lasted all afternoon.

De Luz Canyon is a beautiful ride, from Fallbrook to Temecula, or vice versa as we rode it.  Picking up elevation quick and leaving Temecula behind, soon you are on winding roads of outer suburbia, past ranches, and soon just you and the road.  No exits with signs or mileages, no signs at all, with only one fork in the road to take, actually a T, hoping the left meant Fallbrook, but not really concerned if it didn’t.  We were just out riding, away from it all, and it felt great.  No lanes to split, no traffic either way for miles, the sound of the exhaust echoing at times off the canyon walls-my kind of music.  With each of us riding our own ride, and although I was riding faster than Theresa never felt hurried, and only stopped a few times for her to catch up.  Riding our own rides, with no pressure, no schedule, and no particular place to go, and all day to get there.  A quick ride through Fallbrook, stopping at an antique store we usually speed past, and finding a treasure trove of goodies.  And then down old 395 and home-rested and worn out all at once.  A peaceful ride for an afternoon....reminding me that it is the road, and not the destination that counts.  That day the road was the destination.  Reminding us of how you can never go home, but you can still take great roads to get there.

We were on very few straight and narrow roads that day.  I still believe to this day God invented curves for motorcycles to ride on.  And for years struggled with the scripture “for the gate is narrow, and the road is straight to God.”  How could scripture mislead me so badly, why were there curves if straight was the best?  Until he reminded me one day, and again last week.  The road is straight to Jesus, only one way, so that you don’t get lost.  And the shortest way is a straight line between two points-here and heaven.  But he added curves so we can enjoy life, be tested, and have to rely on him to make, we cannot do it on our own.  For straight and narrow roads lead to a gate that is straight and narrow-the only way in.  Not like the border crossing, where 17+ lanes await you, the gate is narrow, so stay straight!  Also you get to choose the best lines when riding through life, finding like riding, if you enter the curve correctly, you can exit faster.  So choosing the right lines is important.  Too far left-oncoming traffic.  Too far right-you run off the road.  Staying the course, riding straight and narrow, and as any racer knows, turning curves into straight lines.  For curves are just a bunch of straight lines at changing angles.  So adjust you speed carefully.  Works in riding, works in life, works with Jesus.  You don’t have to ride too fast into a turn to see God like some racers do.  And although we each take a different road to Jesus, there is still only one way to heaven, and he is it!  Fast or slow, freeways or back roads, with him we will finally get there.  But the road ahead looms, and for some it is scary.  For some boring, for some an adventure.  How is the procedure, who is the destination. 

Some day we will look back at life as all in a day’s ride when we get to heaven.  Riding at God’s pace rather than rushing at ours.  Jesus never hurried, and was never late.  He never delayed, and always arrived on time, God’s time.  A fact Martha and Mary were to learn with their brother Lazarus.  Life is more than mileage markers, and roads can be taken slower and faster at the same time.  For us Saturday’s ride was all about the ride, showing us it is all about Jesus.  And that no matter what road, how fast, or how slow, when it leads to him it is the right road.  Many will offer quicker ways, detours that sound appealing, or even alternative routes.  Stick with Jesus, the only way.  When we get to heaven I don’t anticipate anyone asking “are we there yet?”  We’ll know, there will be no doubt.  Until that day, enjoy the road you are on with him, and enjoy life.  Straight and narrow leads to the gates of heaven, it is the curves that make the ride there worthwhile.

love with compassion,
Mike

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