what good is high tech if you still can't ride?

It seems my cell phone shelf life is over.  My son had gotten me one for my protection, which I usually forgot to take with me.  And when I did it was to use as a watch or take pictures with.  My wife liked it, it was an i-phone whatever, and now since he changed carriers, and got a new phone, I once again face the world each morning a little more secure knowing it won’t ring and interrupt me.  I think I got one phone call in the 90+ days I had it, and wasn’t sure how to answer it.  So it’s back to land lines for me, and for a few days when the family big switch was going on, it was the only phone available...suddenly I was the hero, and also the subject of how lousy the service was, etc, etc.  Things are back to normal now, and I will have to learn two new numbers, theirs, since I don’t have a phone where I can access it, I have to learn it.  How middle class!

As you know I am not a big high tech guy, but lately it has invaded my world.  Riding the latest Triumph Trophy SE with cruise control, throttle by wire, traction control, ride height adjustment-electrical, suspension the same, ABS, and a sound system with weather channel, and satellite radio, seat and hand grip heaters, add in three power ports plus one for USB and I am overwhelmed.  And admit I liked the cruise when I could use it, set it at 80-100, and relax.  No more getting out the tool kit, if the bike has one, and adjusting the rear spring by hand.  Even the windshield was electric, and one cold night at 50 degrees, I raised it all the way.  Sat on the heated seat.  But never did find a setting I liked.  Couldn’t find how to turn on the radio, someone asked how it sounded, and I even liked the bags.  Which are beveled having their own suspension, they lean when the bike leans.  And when it went back I missed it, for a few miles.  And have to realize that the future for me, like many others is here today, whether I asked for it or not.  And soon what is high tech will be low tech.  What will that make me?

But I am back on the Bonneville today, and with a valve adjustment, and a new air filter, chain and sprockets, at 71k miles it runs great.  With none of the above high tech, electric starters are for me as far back as I care to go.  And after riding my 1978 Suzuki over 250 miles this weekend, can firmly attest to the fact I don’t need all the electric goodies and add ons.  I led through corners, still went over 100, without cruise control, set the rear shocks by hand, and had wind in my face.  And was comfortable, rode safely, and had a great time.  Even found folly when some young kid called me old school, to which I replied, “no, just school.”  It seems that the learning curve for riding still goes on, and new for him is old for me.  Proven by all the old grey hairs who recognize the Bonneville and tell stories about when they had one.  Easily recognized by the younger ones with shaved heads and dew rags.  Someday they will wish they had pictures of themselves with hair, imagine those stories.  And the dichotomy, old guys with hair, young guys bald.  But it seems that whenever you enter the riding world, is when your history lessons begin, and while my heroes of old used to warn against kick starters breaking ankles on Triumphs, and how only real men could kick start a Harley, and how only sissies would ride a Sporty with an electric starter, today’s new riders will remember a new sensory input of riding. Yet the thrill will somehow be there...just not the same.  Maybe it’s just me, but it sure is good to be back on my Bonneville.  Simple like my Jesus, so can get it. 

New Christians today are faced with growing in Christ quickly.  Jump into the word, attend all Bible studies and prayer meetings, stay out of the world, we expect you in church, and if you aren’t there, may consider you backslidden.  Sound familiar?  No wonder the attrition rate is higher than it should be.  We forget that growth is a maturity process, and is different for each one of us.  That it takes years for an acorn to grow into a tree, yet only a few months to grow corn.  How flowers bloom in spring, and wilt in summer.  And die in winter.  It seems God has appointed a certain time and growth pattern for everything, us included.  Some come to Christ and are instantly changed, yet some years later seem unchanged.  Some are bold and noisy, while Joseph of Arimethia was silent and gave up his tomb to Jesus.  There when needed and called.  A process as part of God’s plan, directed by God, interfered with by man.  We all grow at different rates, just as we all ride at different rates.

Take two men, one comfortable at 65 mph, the other at 70.  At the end of an hour of riding together, they are 5 miles apart.  Don’t compare your speed with others, ride your own ride.  And work out your own relationship with Christ.  Let him lead you into maturity, and be blessed while doing it.  Some can’t ride without a windshield, I don’t like them at all.  I want the wind in my face.  So who’s right?  Or are we both wrong? What good is high tech if you still can’t ride?

When Jesus leads we are both right.  Individuals as he created us.  some quiet, some loud, and some louder still.  Let our actions say the most about us, words will fail, but actions will be remembered.  Paul planted, Apollos watered, but it was God who provided the growth.  For just like a seed planted, only he can see what goes on under the ground.  And only you and him know about the seed he planted in you.  Ride your own ride, and live your own life in Christ.  For just like phones and motorcycles, it isn’t about the messenger, it is the message.  And when Jesus just happens to be both, you will change.  Now that’s a ride we all should take.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

free refills

Gone are the days of “no ice please” while waiting for your freshly cooked Big Mac to come out from its heat lamp storage area.  If you don’t know what I am talking about, you show your generation, if not your age, as there was a time when we didn’t have self service soda dispensers, and the freckle faced kid behind the counter would fill your cup to the brim with ice, then add Coke.  No diet Coke yet.  And because we were thirsty and didn’t want a cup of ice, we would tell then “no ice” or “little ice,” and they knew of what we were talking.  And if you noticed on all paper cups a small line, looks more like a dash about 1/3 from the bottom, an ice line, as a guide.  But few obeyed its guidance, or even knew of its existence, so we were at there mercy.  And no free refills either, you took your chances after paying your money.  Now among the multitude of surveys Coca Cola took, they found an interesting trend, if you filled your cup yourself, you used more ice than if someone else did it for you.  Which made self serve a much easier sell to retailers, also the free refill part.  They just upped their prices, to cover guys like me who buy a small and make many trips back, pocketing the extra profit from the other 99%.  And since soft drinks is big money, today you serve yourself, use more ice, and they make more profit.  Pretty neat huh, just when we think we have them figured out...

Now once upon a time, a 32 oz. cup was considered a large, with small and medium 16 and 24 oz. respectively.  Again those pesky penny pinchers at Mickey D’s, they used what is called a cheater cup. with 14, 22, and 30 oz. respectively.  No big deal, 2 oz. you figure, but in a billion ounce month, do the math.  We could all retire nicely, and still add our own ice.  As much as we want.  But with 42, 48, and now 64 oz. or bigger cups, they sell more soda, more ice, and make more profit.  All with our help.  An unpaid employee of McDonald’s.  And for those of you who think only a few ounces are no big deal, it’s only a Coke and a smile, soft drinks play such a big deal in their profits that McDonalds has two soft drink set ups per store, should one go down.  And if no soft drinks at lunch hour, both are down, they have lost all their profit for the day.  And ice tea refills are even more profitable, it takes about 8 cents to brew a gallon of tea, that will end up when water added making 9 gallons of tea.  No wonder they push the free refills.  At a penny a gallon to make, to them they lose money on soft drinks.  Suddenly free refills takes on a new definition, and having it your way is really their way.  I’ll drink to that.  And I’ll bet you rethink your next soft drink purchase, and watch how much ice you use.  Maybe take an extra to go refill, just to level the field more.  And one last hint-never buy a medium, it is the most expensive per ounce.

Notice your cereal box the same size with less contents?  Same with chips?  Subway lost a law suit over its 12” subs that were only 11’.  So all things are not what they seem.  I have run out of gas with a 4.2 tank, and took 4.8 to fill.  Maybe a suspect gas pump?  And why does my speedo say 75, when really I am only going 68?  We live in a world of illusions, and when confronted with the truth, we are ready to argue against it.  We are bitter when someone mentions free, and immediately think “how much will it cost?”  So here are some real life bargains, and observations.  Salvation is free via Jesus Christ.  He paid for it, and it is a gift.  No cheater cups, or fine print on the bag.  You cannot earn it, like Reward points, you don’t get extra credit for being saved.  Jesus gets all the credit, and when he does, you get all the blessings.  No medium or small sizes of salvation, you get it all.  Forever.  I like that.  With free refills.  Because we need him everyday, we don’t lose our salvation, but we work everyday at it, staying close to him.  The ultimate reward is eternal life in heaven, without storing up points.  No extra Bible reading, extra prayer, or tithing will help God love you more.  They re good things, but God’s love is already infinite.  But do them anyway as the spirit leads, and you will be an example to others.  And see them blessed.  By the spirit, in the spirit. 

And I have endured too many long sermons that fill the hour appropriated for church.  Why can Billy Graham speak 15 minutes and hundreds come to Christ, when some preachers talk all day and no one is saved?  The gospel is simple so I can get it, and free so I can afford it.  And we have Martin Luther to thank for 11am services.  He liked to sleep in.  Maybe one too many long sermons did him in.  What a rebel!  So keep the gospel simple.  Show love at all times, and when you screw up, God gives us mercy.  Only obtainable after we sin.  He has all the bases covered.  Now it is up to you?

No more intermediary needed for a Coke, you can fill it yourself.  Add ice if desired.  All you want.  And we can go to Jesus the same way.  He is open 24/7, no waiting at the counter, and he knows if we want ice, and just how much.  He meets all our needs with no trickery.  And still makes a profit.  Remember that, as we all want to come out ahead, to make a profit.  Self serve may get you what you want, only Jesus will get you what you need.  With plenty of free refills, you will never thirst.  You will never have to wait in line.  And you can have it all in him right now.  Fresh, without the heat lamp.  Just the way you like it. If only you could order a meal like you can get salvation, imagine how you would never thirst, but still hunger for more.  Overflowing.  Abundant.  Free.  A gift.  You cannot pay more and get it supersized.  So keep the refills coming.  To go.  And on the 8th day God created cup holders....

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

my last ride with Rex

Over the years I have known many people.  I have a lot of acquaintances, and even a few friends thrown in for good measure.  Many have been through church or riding, so if you say you may know me, don’t be surprised if I ask “what do you ride or where do you go to church?”  But one friend from riding, who was very close to us all in our family has been gone now for over 30 years.  My friend, no adjective needed to express best , loyal, good, or close, he was just a friend.  And from time to time I miss him, and although we only knew each other a few years, he made a lasting impact on me.  His name was Rex, and my younger son is named after him, born after Rex died two years before he was born.  Rex and I met when he came to Durango to help Rand who had opened up a Suzuki-Kawasaki shop, and was the service department.  Unbelievably talented, and smart, he had turned down two invitations to attend both West Point and the Air Force Academy, he was against the Viet Nam war, he had graduated at the top of his high school class.  But pursued his love for motorcycles his entire life.  His ride when riding a shop bike, was an old 1967 Triumph Bonneville, which had thrown a rod through the cases on a trip to Yellowstone, and he patched up and repaired the hole with epoxy, rebuilt the motor and almost 50,000 miles after never needed to be rebuilt.  He had done it right, and it didn’t leak either.  In his spare time between bikes and softball he was rewriting the Suzuki tech manuals, he had found many errors and was doing it for free.  For other mechanics if not for Suzuki owners too.  But our rides are what I remember, ride along with me and see why I miss him, and why I miss my friend.

On an overnighter to Arches National Park, my new KZ750 wouldn’t start.  We had stopped to water a cactus bush and no start after.  Over a hundred miles from anywhere, Rex noted he had seen my tail light brighter than normal, and not coming on when I braked.  A quick look and adjustment of the rear brake pedal, it had been too tight and the brake lights stayed on, had killed the battery.  A quick push and we were off...On a trip in my car to Denver, to attend a Suzuki tech show for dealers, I drove, and he brought along a girl who was a friend.  She had little money, and need a ride, so he invited her.  Stopping along the highway to stretch, she lost her wallet.  And couldn’t find it, only noticing it after a half hour after.  So we went back, not sure of where we had stopped, but Rex remembered a landmark, saw the tire tracks, and got out and found it in the brush.  His attention to detail, and paying attention made it a challenge to us, a no brainer to him. 

One New Year’s I met him in Phoenix, he had lived there for awhile before moving to Prescott, and we stayed with his friends, who instantly became mine.  He lent me his SP370 to ride around town while he did some fine tuning on a friend’s drag racing Suzuki XS Hustler, and I checked out an early Barrett Jackson Auction.  But when it was time to go back to Durango, it was snowing heavily, and we towed the SP back behind his 1972 Torino that needed a u-joint the whole time I knew him.  In the deep snow, we had no problem, without snow tires he knew just how much air to let out, and we arrived save and on schedule.  Never a worry or a doubt about arriving safely. 

It was on a trip to California, after getting in flash floods outside of Verde Valley, that he called the State Police to look for me, and the motels in town there, hoping I was OK.  And finding the only vacancy, I was greeted by the clerk to call Rex in Prescott.  Who had been concerned for his friend’s safety.  And the next morning gave the Kawasaki a quick checkup, including synching the carbs, just to make sure all was OK for our ride.  He thought it idled funny.  But our ride was great, a dream ride, we rode Highway 1, our plan, and were blessed with the road being closed 30 miles north of Piedra Blanca, and stayed the night at the motel there.  No one on the roads, only us at the motel, we raced up and down the closed stretch with no traffic, any speeds we wanted, a dream ride come true.  But that night we talked a serious talk, and agreed that if anything happened to me, he would take care of Theresa and Andrew, and I would do the same for him.  Staying up late and discussing motorcycles, the trip was great, the weather fine after my flash flood ride, and we parted ways in Prescott, where he owned batting cages.  He would catch up with me in Durango the next week, having some matters to attend to.  And as it would turn out, it was my last ride with Rex.  I would never see him again.  The next Sunday in the obituaries in the Durango Herald he was listed.  I was in shock...he died of an enlarged heart, and it exploded while coming off a softball field in Prescott.  So fast he never had a chance to put out his arm when he fell.  A condition only a few knew of, and he never had it repaired because it would have made him an invalid, and he would not have been able to ride any more.  And he kept it from his friends, so they would not worry. 

We never know when we will take our last ride, but Rex’s last ride was a sad one into eternity.  To hell.  He denied Jesus Christ, and although we shared many things, he didn’t want to hear the gospel.  It made no sense to this talented genius, and good friend.  He died denying the only hope he ever had.  And I miss him, knowing where he is.  And the sadness of a loved one going to hell.  His choice, all because religion didn’t make sense.  And he couldn’t get the difference between Jesus and religion.  Brains and talent don’t save you, even having Christian friends isn’t enough.  Only Jesus saves...and today the K-LOVE daily scripture tells us nothing can separate us from the love of God.  His love for us, but our choice can separate us from him.  All the things listed don’t include our choice to deny Jesus, they are all external events happening to us.  And I argued with that, because sinners at death are separated from Jesus.  But the spirit reminded me “every knee shall bow, and very tongue confess Jesus as Lord, even under the earth.”  All will know Jesus at death, some in agony, but still worshipping, but in hell.  Those who believe here before death will worship in heaven, our choice.  So even though we deny Jesus, he is still eternal.  And we will worship him.  Right now you can choose where you do it.  Don’t lose hope for your friends, you may be the only gospel they know.  Be kind and loving, and show Jesus daily, if necessary use words.  And remember, we don’t send any one to hell, nor does God.  It is our choice, God sent his only son so we can escape hell. 

We don’t know what day we will die, we didn’t know our day of birth either.  Only God knows, and he isn’t telling.  Seek him today, let Jesus save your life and soul.  A friend like no other you will ever have.  Reading Rex’s obit still haunts me from time to time, but it was his choice, and God honored it.  He will honor your choice today, make it the right one, for we never know when our last ride will be our last.  Or our friends.

love with compassion,

Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the first church of the Shamwow!, coming to a service near you

The stage was set.  Hundreds of men had been involved, hundreds of hours had been spent, and millions of dollars had been invested.  And tonight was to be the night they all had waited for.   R&D had developed the new product, a new dog food superior to any on the market.  Production had adapted it so it could be efficiently produced, accounting had made some budget cuts to make the formula feasible, and marketing had come up with attractive packaging, a way to make 40 pounds in a bag look like 44, making an additional 10% on each bag sold, and tonight the new name would be announced.  And the dog food would finally be available for sale.  After many exhausting hours of research, focus groups, and legal investigations of trademarked names, the executive committee had narrowed it down to three.  Rumors had spread about which one it would be, bets were placed, and as the excitement grew, they awaited the announcement in anticipation.  But were shocked when none of the final names was chosen, but one named for the president’s dog.  A name no one could pronounce, it wasn’t even catchy, but satisfied the old man.  Honored him.  After a pause, the national sales manager once again whipped up the room into a furor, hats and t-shirts with the name and logo were passed out.  The sales force was so excited they couldn’t wait to get out and sell their new product, and their wives in attendance with them were writing on napkins the increase in their husband’s commissions, and what they would buy.  The room was brought up to a fever pitch of excitement, and then just to make sure, that no problems existed, that everyone understood the new product and the marketing effort, the president stepped to the mike, and after a brief statement, opened the floor to questions.  He hoped it wouldn’t last long as he wanted the excitement of the meeting to carry on tomorrow, but it ended shorter than he had anticipated.  One new guy in the back raised his hand, and asked one question?  “What do the dogs think of it?  Do they like it?”  And the room became quiet, sullen, and no answer was provided.  The one thing they had neglected, the one thing that would make it a success, the dogs liking it and eating it, had never been addressed.  They had forgotten the end user, the ultimate consumer.  And suddenly names, marketing, production, and accounting prowess didn’t matter.  No one had thought to ask the dogs.  

A scenario of a classic fail.  Yet we have real life examples, the Edsel, NEW Coke, and do you recall BIC underwear, disposable?  Worked for pens and lighters?  Real life failures, that failed because no one wanted them, they filled a need that didn’t exist, or a desire that wasn’t there.   The Shamwow! guy of marketing has taken over, and if it feels good, looks good, and better yet makes us look better, then we’ll buy it.  Maybe even trade on an old name.  But only once if we don’t get the desired effect we want, not what we are told.  And today’s church is no different.  Too many programs, processes, and procedures.  Too many meetings, too many budget hearings, and ways to market Jesus.  Well meaning men and women telling you “we cannot fulfill God’s plan without your money.”  Providing us with things that tickle the senses, but do nothing for the soul.  We leave entertained, a good time, but yet empty.  For like the dog food story, they mastered all of the worldly efforts, but left out Jesus.  The author was neglected, and the end user was reduced to a number, and not a person.  It has become a system of numbers, the more attendance, the better the church.  The more money donated, the better the message.  All built around the marketing of Jesus, but neglecting the power of the holy spirit.  Having a form of godliness, just without the involvement of God.  They have forgotten the one in 99 Jesus went back for, bragging on their 99% success.  Jesus saw the one, who might be you.  For years I thought that the world had invaded the church, and I was wrong.   The church invited the world in, then shut the door behind it and won’t let it out.  Today we have board meetings, that have become bored meetings because the spirit is not invited.  I sat in one when the leader told us “tonight we will let the spirit guide us.  Now here are the rules....”  Religion has and is rearing its ugly head, and many churches take on the Shamwow! approach to evangelism.  When God tells us it is the inner man, the spirit that must change first.  And without God, we won’t.  We will follow clever words, focus groups, teach and brag about our education, but leave with little application.  Many great services and churches are based on how you feel after, with little focus on Jesus Christ, the only one who makes the difference.  And it starts and ends with him, not us.  Listen and see, all it takes is that you ask him, then let him guide you.  Yet many spend more  money on choir robes, guest speakers, expensive programs and hi-tech presentations than they do to minister.  They don’t let it outside of the four walls, because they don’t want to.  For outside they cannot control it, and so cannot control you.  It is like being invited in to someone’s nice home, but you cannot use the bathroom.  Or the hand towels.  Or eat with them, you aren’t special enough-yet.  Enjoy the after dinner mint, just not the dinner.  They will show you how to be better externally, while you are wasting away spiritually.  Jesus tells us we will always have the poor among us, we just don’t get he was talking about religion and how it has become the norm in many churches.  Bumper stickers and Bible covers do not make you closer to God. 

1 Peter 5:7 tells us to cast your cares on him because he cares for you.”  The Greek word for cast means something that will roll back on you.  Like a big rock after being pushed up a hill, wants to roll back.  Gravity, a law of the universe.  Yet we recognize gravity, but not the gravity of Jesus telling us in Matthew 25 to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, give water to the thirsty, visit those who are sick, and don’t neglect those in jail.  And his law of love.  All situations that will occur again and again, and again.  Needs that must be met daily, and like manna from heaven, must be met from God.  But distributed by his sales team, his church-us.  If asked “are you in the word?” does your life show the word, Jesus Christ is in you?  If asked “what would Jesus do?”  do you have to ask?  Don’t you know? Or have you become a shell, that needs life to begin inside and grow outward?  When Paul told the Corinthian church to stop their sinning, he just told them “STOP!”  Not stop or die, just stop. Repent, then let the spirit guide you.  You can only revive something that was once alive, and the same for resurrection.  You must be alive in Christ, die to yourself and become a new person in Christ.  And when you do, you will see things differently.  Religion is so impersonal, I want as much of Jesus as I can get.  Do you?

But back to the dog food.  if your relationship with Christ is more bark than bite, more church doctrine than Bible, more education than application, you need to seek Jesus now.  Let his spirit change you, and watch as you grow in grace.  The Shamwow! school of religion is alive and well, looking for those it can seek and destroy.  To control, to not let them out from under their control.  It brings attention to itself, but brings no glory to God.  And with no glory, no blessings.  But you might feel good for awhile.  And soon be hungry again because you were not filled.  If Jesus died for you, isn’t her good enough to lead you to?

Learn from the parable of the dog food.  If church ain’t making it for you, maybe you need to go right to Jesus.  Programs, processes, and procedures.  The dying words of the church.  All your best efforts will fail.  If only because no one thought to ask God.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

rites of passage

I learned the truth at 17, that driving licenses were handed out quite freely, and ability may not have anything to do with obtaining one.  Our high school had discontinued driver’s ed. when I was a sophomore, and turning the legal age of 17 my junior year, I was more than ready to drive.  A few of us had driven other’s cars illegally, and had a basic understanding of the relationship between gas pedal and speed, and brakes and stopping.  A little wide on turns, radio too loud, maybe a warning we were approaching, and with only a legal license to separate us from the legal drivers.  But after a painful two weeks of having one of my parents ride with me while on my permit, the day came, and all the warnings came back to me waiting my turn in line.  We had been warned about the big fat guy, how he was described, who used to work at the inspection station, and failed many a car whose headlights were aimed too high after he sat in it, then too low when retested with a normal sized human being.  Now he was a tester for getting your license.  Fortunately it was given during the day.  We had been told hands at 10 and 2, no radio on, and keep hands on the wheel.  Don’t be fooled if offered a stick of gum and removing one.  We had been told about driving too fast, not too slow, and to check mirrors, turn your head when backing, and how the dreaded parallel parking was the ultimate test, and how many had succumbed to its curse and not passed.  I had passed the written test, but failed the eye test, and with new glasses on, was ready for battle.  And then the driver’s test inspector hopped in our 1966 Rambler, and the ride of my life was to begin.

After handing him my paperwork, he asked a few qualifying questions, one hit me, “how long have you been driving?”  A trick question for sure, if I said never, I lied, and they would find out, if I told the truth I might be failed because I had driven without a license.  That question wasn’t on the test.  So I told him about a year, and he said fine, let’s go.  Making it out of the parking lot, turn signals on, I turned, and proceeded at 34 mph, 1 under the limit.  The tester was making small talk, and asked if I wanted anything.  And then motioned to pull over in front of a store, and again asked “do you want something to drink?”  The spots were clear, no parallel parking needed, and I hadn’t hit the curb, and I sat quietly, radio off, while he went inside.  A few long minutes later he returned, told me “OK, let’s go back,” and we took off, making a series of right turns to get back.  Pulling into the parking lot, tester with coffee in one hand , donut still in the other, we parked, he asked if I had any questions, and then he signed off.  I had passed!  I was legal!  Look out New Jersey, then the world-here Mikey comes!  All the fears, all the trepidation, all the warnings meant nothing, and this was probably the easiest trip to the store I would ever make.  And the first of 5 states I would eventually obtain a driver’s license in.  The rites of passage to drive had been met head on, and successfully mastered.  The next stop, the office at school to get my parking permit, but that would have to wait, why mess up a great day of remembrance by going to school?  So off I went driving everywhere I could, stopping to get gas, “$2 please,” as the attendant gave me gas, looking as if I had done it hundreds of times before.  Lunch at McDonalds, parking as close to the door so everyone could see me driving, so what if it was a Rambler...and suddenly girls wanted to go out with me.  Must have been the Rambler...and another rite of passage was ahead.  No more dates with my Dad driving, or meeting somewhere, now I got to pick up my date, and meet her parents.  Would the tests of life never end?

You have to ask?  Trials and tests, everyday occurrences aren’t they?  They are for me, and come with a built in legacy of failure for some of us.  We never plan to fail, but what if I hadn’t passed my driving test?  What if I had been asked to parallel park and failed?  What if I had to scratch my nose and took one hand off the wheel?  Yet these simple trials occur every day, and it seems someone is always there to hope you do fail.  “I told you so,” you can hear them mocking, and the older you get, they don’t diminish.  We are told “in this life you will have trials and temptations.”  If nothing else that should prove scripture correct.  But in the Greek of the New Testament, the word for trial is the same as for temptations.  The same temptations God tells us to not be led into in the Lord’s Prayer.  So what’s up?  Maybe it comes down to a sense of attitude, how we approach things.  65 in 55 zone may be a temptation to one, a trial to another, maybe even a court date.  It is how we handle the situation, and our attitude in it.  As the saying goes “anything with a skirt or wheels will get you in trouble,” some avoid both and never get into trouble.  Yet some fall head long into both and pay the price.  I believe we know in our spirit when we are being tempted, our spirit bears witness to the truth.  It is up to us to exercise self control in that decision.  Meekness, power under control, when we see an open road, but not the cop behind the bushes.  When we see the pretty tempting girl, but not the trap that lays ahead if we go where we know not to go.  Sin has its price, and its wages are death.  So a temptation may be a test, and a test may turn into a temptation.  Only in the spirit will you know the difference.  It takes Jesus, and without him the only sure wage you’ll ever earn is death.  Payable on demand.  But the temptations are there, maybe the driving test was easier when compared to them.  But now that you have that license, you still can get a ticket.  Or even lose it.

Thankfully Jesus forgives, and his grace is forever.  Mercy shown when you screw up, the only way to get it, and again the spirit there to guide you.  Today a simple test, the final exam may be before you.  Life has taught you to study, but this one you don’t want to fail.  Who is Jesus?  If you don’t know him as Lord and savior, as the son of God, as deity, you fail.  And we are even given a chance to take it open book, the Bible.  Now you know the answer to the test, what will you say?  It takes that special relationship for heaven, just like it took a special test to be a legal driver.  No false believers in heaven, God knows the truth.  Your life may have been easy, or it may have been hard, but the signs of God are always there.  No excuses for failure, no retests for salvation.  Once and for all-good in any state, in any country around the world.  And out of this world.  Make sure you obtain the license to heaven today...you never know who may be out to get you.  Maybe some guy in an old Rambler....taking a curve too wide.

Jesus is that license to live, says so right on his license.  Organ donor, he gave his heart and his life so you could live.  Tested by being pulled over?  License and registration please?  Look to Jesus.  A license to live.  And your registraton in heaven.  An insurance card, the only insurance card you’ll ever need for heaven.  The final rite of passage....if this had been a test, would you have passed?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

sliding trucks and Galloping Gooses

Winter in Colorado means snow, and lots of it.  Driving for Coca Cola in the 80’s, I worked out of Durango, and spent many a day on snow covered roads.  We drove without chains, not required, they figured if you live there you knew how to drive, and I somehow got out and back home every day.  No snow days back then, you went to work.  But in the winter my route would still take me to Rico, Colorado, a wide spot in the road between Telluride and Dolores, and strangely enough a destination before Telluride became known for snow, the skiing type that is.  Until then, it was drugs, drugs, and more drugs, with no other reason to go there.  And Rico had dwindled down to about a dozen residents, for at 8825’ it sat at the base of Lizard Head Pass, the only way north.  A beautiful ride in summer, riding the Loop including Million Dollar Highway, this 250 mile day ride was a rush, but driving in winter with little or no traffic, it became scary.  But the Coca Cola had to be delivered, and so I went.  One restaurant in town then, The Galloping Goose, affectionately named after the narrow gauge trains specially built for winter.  And so the day was planned for my delivery one January day...

Rico sits on a slant, off camber to racers, and points downhill on the northern edge where the restaurant was.  The delivery procedure was get there, walk down the street to the trailer where the owner lived, she would let you in, make your delivery and go.  Open only on weekends for skiers on the way to Stoner Lodge, this was the procedure.  So arriving I went by her house, she nodded give her a few minutes, 30 in Rico talk, and she would come and open up.  So I went and parked in front of the restaurant, and waited, engine running to keep warm.  On warm days in January it got up to zero, and the wind blew.  I was sitting off camber, pointed up, when the truck started to roll backwards.  With the parking brake on!  Trying to steer where I couldn’t see, the steering wheel spun aimlessly on the ice, and I was heading for a creek down a 20’ drop, with only a phone booth between me and disaster.  I had skidded down about 25’ when suddenly the truck stood up on its right side, a curb buried in snow had stopped me, and then it landed with a thud.  Glass bottles rattling but none broken.  Nerves shattered but none broken.  I came to rest against the phone booth, and had almost taken it out, only a six inch curb had stopped me from sliding further.  Shaken, not stirred, I made my delivery, and headed back down the mountain, to lower levels, never going below 6500’ that day.  A big deal, but no big deal there, but how things change, and Rico has changed too, now trendy and with three restaurants, but no Galloping Goose.  Maybe I have too.

Sliding backwards had gotten my adrenaline running at warp speed, and totally out of control I had no direction, and could do no better than to hold on.  15,000 pounds of truck and Coke sliding in the balance, and a 6” curb protected me.  Sounds strange such a low curb could stop such a big truck, but little things can trip us up as well.  And cause us to slide backwards, backsliding we call it.  Falling away from God, and going back to our old BC days.  And we all do it, some to greater extents than others, but even thinking a sinful thought causes it according to scripture.  Sometimes we catch ourselves, sometimes others remind us, and sometimes we just continue spiraling down, neglecting the consequences for our actions.  Sometimes we become bitter, then caught in sin, we don’t look ahead, or back, our eyes only on ourselves instead of Jesus.  Scripture tells us he never leaves us or forsakes us, and that snowy morning in Rico he was there with me, providing a curb to protect me.  Just inches from disaster, he caught me, and stopped by sliding backwards.  Works in our daily walk too.  God will put others in our way to guide us out, to show us where we have gone wrong, and to love us back.  As a family we need each other to be strong and loving, because it can happen to us at any time.  And he forgives, once and for all, although as our hearts change, e recognize our sin, and ask forgiveness again.  We want to be clean in front of our Lord, and a contrite spirit and a broken heart God will not deny.  So get over yourself, and go on with Jesus.  Don’t look back, and keep focused on him.  That day in the truck I was all alone, but yet he was with me.  He had provided a curb just 6” high, but enough to save me.  Remember it is in the little things that God appears, not just the big ones.

When the law couldn’t save us, God sent his only son so we could be saved.  Simple theology, a simple gospel.  Yet we build walls around us higher than we should, thinking it protects us, but really to keep Jesus out.  No walls should stand between you and God,  Jesus has removed the sin that stood between us and a loving God, but you will slide from time to time.  Sometimes we have time to steer into the skid, sometimes a snow bank saves us.  There are no snow banks to protect us from hell, only Jesus keeps us out.  No man made or natural barrier can stand against him, and he stands for you.  Nothing can separate us from his love, yet many will try.  And in every trial, test, tribulation, and skid, he is there to bring us back.  Somehow he makes all things work together for our good.   Both good and bad. 

So next time you think of a cold Coca Cola, think of Rico, below zero, lots of snow and ice, and a backslider saved by curb and a snow bank.  But really saved by God’s grace, and a testimony to share some 30 years later.  You may be off the road, stuck in the snow, and sliding fast out of control, call upon the name of Jesus.  Backsliders take heart, he forgives and loves you.  Welcome back, again, and again, and again....for we all fall short of the glory of God daily.  But aren’t you glad his love is more than our sin, and only requires calling to to him?  Believe in your heart, and let others know Jesus saves.  Some people think that Jesus is way out, when really he is the way out.  Experience his saving grace today, he died for that right so you don’t have to. 

Forgiven and saved by grace.  Rico, Colorado giving a whole new spin on ice cold Coke.  Jesus rescues backsliders, let him rescue you today.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

if Buick made a motorcycle

There she sat on the dealer’s back row, a queen among drones just looking for a new home.  It was one of those afternoons between classes where all my homework was caught up, so I went cruising car lots.  Not a shopper, with no money definitely a browser, but when she caught my eye, I knew I was about to be a buyer, and miss all my afternoon classes.  She was a 1950 Buick special 4-door sedan, blue with a straight 8.  She had come to be on the Mazda lot when her new owners traded her in, they had just inherited her from their grandmother, and a Buick in the garage didn’t interest them.  Very clean, new interior, fresh wide whites, and an older repaint, she was very classy.  So with no money, but a quick call to the bank, I was $600 in debt, but a Buick richer.  In the only car show I entered her in, we got an honorable mention, and I drove her everywhere around Albuquerque.  3 on the tree, she started with a push on the gas pedal, always a great roar from full throttle starting, cruised at 55 no problemo.  Her hood opened from both sides to reveal the Buick “valve in head” straight 8.  Her only flaw was the radio knob was missing...but a head turner none the less.  Big, blue, powerful, and unique at 26 years of age, I sold her because I needed money, and made a whopping $400, probably more than the dealer, but was one car I wish I had never sold.  And every time I see a 1950 Buick with that one year only toothy grill that some call ugly, I smile right back.  When better cars were built, Buick built them.  Once known as doctor’s cars for their strength and stamina, a Special she was. 

Now for the past two weeks I have been riding a Triumph Trophy SE.  Their big touring bike with bags and trunk, which has become known as the Buick.  Like my older Buick it has a windshield, a large trunk, but like today’s luxury cars it also has adjustable suspensions, traction control, cruise control, a sound system, heated seats and grips, and computer controlled engine.  A far cry from my 1950 Buick, but both were huge, both were blue, and both float down the road.  But closer to a new Buick than I care to admit.  Maybe just the ride if Buick had ever chosen to go into the motorcycle business.  And priced under $20,000, ever see what $20,000 will buy in a new car, maybe a deal, but still expensive.  Just like old Buicks, and just like today’s Gold Wings, Ultra Glides, BMW’s, and other big touring bikes.  But what if other luxury car makers like BMW went into the motorcycle business?  BMW started making bikes, then cars, and over 90 years later do both well.  But what if Buick made a bike, would anyone buy it?  But what if Mercedes Benz made one, would anyone buy it?

In 2002 the Mercedes Benz Car Club of America, MBCA, wrote an article about MB coming out with a line of motorcycles.  Three models, from base, to sport, to touring, and priced expensively.  Reading like the features on most new bike today, it was revolutionary, and upon reading it, talked to our dealership owner, who rode, and she called to apply for a motorcycle dealership.   We were all excited, as many of us rode, I could see my new demo bike heading out on vacations, but it was not to be.  It seems this lead story was in the April Issue, and had fooled more than one person.  MBNA had been over run with requests for information, and dealership inquiries.  A simple four page article with artist renderings had created a huge buzz, and it turned out to be a hoax.  April Fool!  But yet we stayed in denial for a few days, even using our contacts within, who at first were excited too, but would end up being victims along with us.  No Mercedes Benz motorcycles were to be.  But we had fun dreaming...and I wonder when riding the Buick, I mean Trophy if they had how things may have been different.  If the rumor was true, how may would have believed the truth?  Or would we have dismissed the rumor?  The Trophy being the second coming of my 1950 Buick, some 55 years later. 

Many religious zealots over the past few years have used scare tactics to sell books, movies, and claim to know the date of the return of Jesus Christ for his church.  From the Aztec calendar proclaiming the end of the world, to Harold Camping striking out again, not his first false promise, to various cults claiming he has come, or denying his existence all together, we need to beware of false lies.  Lies that get us excited like the Mercedes Benz motorcycle story, we need to stay close to God and seek truth.  All lies are based on truth, and some come very close, maybe mirror the truth, but are lies none the less.  Even Jesus doesn’t know the time or date, but like us has warned us we will know of the season.  And today to those who seek, the signs are there.  To others coincidence, but to God loving warning signs to a lost and dying world.  Jesus saves, and soon he will call his church, those who believe home, and he wants none to perish.  But leaves it up to us.  Today we see signs of increasing moral decay, mass murders via abortion, and it seems a new virus each year.  We now have names for blizzards, earthquakes prominent in Oklahoma, and tsunamis in the news.  Families are falling apart, and even the definition is being altered to fit today.  But to those with no hope, Jesus offers hope, there is still time to change, but soon, and no date is given, the rapture will occur, and the worst 7 years on earth will begin.  A time I am glad I will be in heaven...saved by grace, and not a minute too soon.  But what of those who wonder who will the anti-Christ be?  What will it be like without God on earth?  To them I warn, who you are seeking you will find.  So seek Jesus, it won’t matter to us we’ll be safe, bit you don’t want to be left behind.  You want to go with Jesus...Look around, the signs are there, will you be there when he calls?

But yet some are intent on trying to figure the date, even though God promises no man will know the time or date.  And suppose someone did know, we will be in heaven, who will care you did?  Wouldn’t it be better to show love and mercy than to preach about a date that no one knows about?  Wouldn’t it be easier to share Jesus than get off on doctrines that he warns about?  One separates, one unites.  One offers education, the other application.  I need a hug, let God take care of the time and date, just give me Jesus.  The only way out of here, and salvation while we are still here.  His offer is still open, and for those who are still debating remember this, Jesus said “you are either for me or against me.”  Saying nothing is saying no.  Yet many will come counterfeiting his claims...

So maybe it is a good thing Buick doesn’t make motorcycles.  They make good cars, at least they did back in 1950, and today as I ride the Buick, I will be glad Triumph does.  Some things are left best to those who do them best.  So it is with God.  Let god run things, let him decide when and where.  Your only question is yes or no to Jesus.  Which should be easy, no means hell and suffering, yes means joy and peace.  Sounds so simple, and it is, yet so many have trouble deciding.  We are each special to God, a unique model unlike any other.  No one can duplicate us, nor duplicate the things of God.  Jesus is coming, rumor to some, but the truth from God.  If it wasn’t so, Jesus would not have said it.  Trust him, no false claims, no rumors, no false ads.  Just truth. Simple so I can get it, free so I can afford it.  Just like my old Buick, all I need, and everything I don’t.  If only I had the knob to turn on the radio, a simple two knob affair, on/off and volume.  Don’t get bogged down in the details, get lost in his love.  Give that old time religion, for it’s good enough for me.  And my 1950 Buick.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com