the world needs ditch diggers, too

When we were kids, up into the jr. high school years, attending Saturday afternoon football games for our high school got our adrenaline pumping.  We would afterwards head to a park, and then play some football ourselves, generally tackle with  no equipment, in cooler temps with waning  sunlight.  We would dream of being the heroes we saw that afternoon, knowing that someday when we got our chances to play on the big field, in the big game, we would give our all and the fans would cheer.  We even had our Thanksgiving Day all planned out, football in the morning, hopefully at home our senior year, winning in the last moments, each one of us would intercept, or recover the fumble and score with seconds left, and then onto a fan celebration, and then home for family to heap adoration on us.  Big dreams, for a bunch of kids who really just wanted to play, with no idea of all the practice it would take just to make the team, and that the opposing teams were having the same dreams as ours.  something, someone had to give....and it wasn’t going to be us!

How many times after Wednesday nights at Raceway Park at Englishtown, NJ did we burn rubber, or try to in our parent’s Pinto, Rambler, Vega, VW, or other family sedan as our adrenaline was pumping from the hours of watching burnouts and drag racing.  Revving the engine pretending we were Jungle Jim Lieberman, Fearless Fred Goeske, Dyno Don Nicholson, and others, we would soon be brought back to reality by the track workers telling us no racing, and the ever present law enforcement just visible enough to warn us a ticket was waiting for us with our name on it.  And at every stop light on the way home, the car in the next lane was our next opponent.  Young girl, nun, or friend, they were our opponent, they just didn’t know it, and many a race was won by me smoking them off the line, only they didn’t know they were even racing.  Very few of us could afford at the time the extra $10 it took to race that night, as many passes as you could, the real racing was so close, yet so far.  Run what you brung, our best chance was knowing someone who did, and would let us hang out. 

Some of us would put racing stickers on our parent’s cars, I even had an Honest Charley sticker on my Dad’s VW.  Hooker Headers, Moon Eyes, Cragar, and Bell Helmet stickers were found on many of our parent’s cars, after much begging, and reassuring them it was nothing dirty.  We just wanted to fit in, and the stickers helped.  After much begging and whining, and convincing my parents that mag wheels and wide tires would not ruin their Pinto, their second car, Ansen Sprints with Wide Oval Firestones were mounted, meaty A70x13-today just slightly narrower than the tires on my Bonneville, but in 1972 they were a big deal.  Raised white letters!  Hooker Header sticker-let’s race!  On the days they would let me borrow the car....

As kids we had big dreams, even in our young adult years we still dreamt big.  No one set off to become mediocre, or worse yet to fail.  But in every test, every interview, every sales call, there would be winners and losers.  It would never happen to us, then real life set in.  And to many of us a life of mediocrity, of just getting by was a fading dream, one we would be happy to realize.  Which would carry us onto middle age, some to retirement, and then to the grave.  The old dreams becoming tainted, then forgotten.   A life of mostly stickers on a car, rather than attaining that car.  No cheers from the field, we were spectators, fighting for a seat on the 50 yard line, or Row E at Raceway Park.  Some became bitter, some never left high school, and some found solace in drugs, alcohol, careers, and other women. Never knowing success as they had dreamed it, never realizing that when someone wins, someone has to lose.  And the competition is tougher on the street, on the track, and on the field than it is in our dreams.

Two scriptures need to be pointed out here.  One, Jeremiah 29 tells us that “God has plans for us, for a hope and a future.”  When we seek him with all our heart.  Then listen.  OOPS!  We don’t tell, we ask, much different than our dreams.  And God rewards at many levels, for he knows the heart.  And doing his will, you will find joy and peace, a contentment not found in any dreams, but only in Jesus.  No matter where you are stuck, or where you are succeeding, Jesus has plans for you.  As Judge Smales in Caddy Shack reminds us “the world needs ditch diggers too Danny,” not all who dream own the company, or get burdened down with the responsibility of running it.  Too many company owners have a company that owns them.

The other scripture is “everything is going to burn.” Anyway.  Never heard from the lips of a riding young star, but often heard as an excuse from the lips of someone on the way down and out.  True it will all burn someday, but God still has a plan for you.  For that hope, but we fail to ask. To call on him with all our hearts.  We do not make the commitment to him, to let God see us through the tough times so we can praise him in the good ones.  We want gain with no pain, Jesus showed us his pain was our gain.  We want it all right now, to start at the top and work our way down.  Only in Christ will we see true success, a goal attained, and lives changed.  God never promises us success, all he wants is faithfulness.  To trust him....a dream for some, life for those who do.

Let Jesus into your life today.  Be guided by his spirit, recognizing his voice, and then following him.  Picking up your cross, he tells us, for we all have a cross to bear.  And it is at the cross that victory was won, that death was defeated, and that the race was over.  Life began that day at the cross, some saw only a man dying, but those who know Jesus it means new life.  Eternal life.  And a plan for our life while still here on earth.  We are invited to the banquet in heaven, not as a spectator, not even as guests, but as members of the family.  We rule and reign with Christ....no worldly success can give us what Jesus offers.  No bumper sticker, Bible cover, T shirt, or listening to KWVE can give us what Jesus has for us.  They can add to it, but without Jesus there will never be a victory.  No longer a dream, but reality.

As kids we dreamed big dreams, life brought us down to real life.  Jesus is that real life, he is life.  Turn to him and find victory in defeat, life in death, and a hope and a future, on earth as it is in heaven.  Young men still dream dreams, and older men still tell stories.  Let yours be of Jesus in your life as you get older.  Inspire the younger to seek him, and let them find their dreams in the reality of him.  Jesus saves, and you can be saved today.  Victory awaits those that believe and follow.  For every guy wanting to race, there is one who needs Jesus.  Be that one who leads him to salvation, let your life on and off the field reflect him in all you do.  “Well done my good and faithful servant,” await those who do in heaven.  An eternal victory.  For all others a victory that may be short lived, the next opponent ready to knock you off.  Be that winner in Jesus....the lights are staging right now, who will win the race for your soul? 

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

 

lunch hour in Corydon

After a morning of chasing roads along the Ohio River, it was lunch time, or close enough to eat.  We had come into Corydon, whose signs proudly proclaimed it was once the “First Capital of Indiana,” and proceeded to follow the road into town.  The old town square had been turned into a memorial, with statues and plaques proclaiming Corydon’s past role in history.  But it was hunger not history that was driving us at the moment, so looking for lunch was next.  A rustic old building on the corner filled with people in business attire motivated us to keep walking around the block, and we were almost back to going there for lunch when a sign “LUNCH SPECIAL” caught our attention on a rather non-descript building. Looking inside, it looked clean, but empty, not quite lunch time yet, and the $5 for BBQ tenderloin, home made cole slaw and potato salad, fresh corn, and a soda was too inviting.  Finding a table, the owner’s wife greeted us, and soon we were filling ourselves with last nights special.  Worth twice the price, filling and delicious.  We got talking, as you will with the owners in such a place, and found he rode Harleys, and was a stop over for many biker runs.  He had recently fed almost 100 bikers a few weekends before, at his expense, on their run to Washington, DC.  As we talked rides, a man and his son ambled in, fresh from the smell of hay. Hungry and sweaty, in between bites of his tenderloin, he explained he had a small farm down the road, and it was haying time.  His wife and other family members were still hard at work, he was taking a much needed break.  But he was more interested in our rides, as wanted to hear more about his farm.  So we shared stories, with the owner sitting with us in between other customers coming in for lunch, and learned a lot about the area.  And hard work.  He told us how he always wanted to get a bike and see America, and I thought here we were seeing, and talking with America.  But running a farm was a 24/7 chore, and he had a small bike that he rode when he could, but when we left he had one request.  We would be passing by his farm, the haying operation going on right by the road.  Would we stop and talk to his wife about selling the farm, buying a bike, and the two taking off and seeing America?  There was a sincerity to his request, but you somehow knew that farming was his life, his family, and his place in the community.  You never say no to a request like that, and we nodded we would.  With no intention of getting into a domestic argument.  Walking out after paying, and leaving filled for our $10, we noted the name on the window, “JOY LUNCH.”  Not Joy’s but Joy.  And what a joy it had been, a far cry from the business suits and ties just around the corner.  Or from the Cracker Barrel by the freeway, which was where we had been heading.  We had a joyful lunch, made a man’s day brighter by talking, really listening to him, and met a couple whose lot in life was feeding people who were hungry, and maybe making a few bucks along the way for their trouble.  Not quite an hour spent, but time has no meaning on special appointments like this, and even though it has been almost 8 summers, I still remember it like it was yesterday.  Probably the best $5 meal I ever had, and the river roads were still calling.  A space and place in time, that no one asked for, but that God provided.

We call them divine appointments, because God brings them into our lives.  Some would call them lucky, but knowing a loving God, we know he has them for us.  The right time, right place, right people,and the right food.  Nothing real fancy, just folk.   The kind of America we once saw in Jimmy Stewart movies, and still look for today.  But it is God who makes it special, knowing he has all the details worked out, scenarios we couldn’t choreograph, they must come from heaven.  The Bible is filled with such events, for there are no chance meetings with God.  And so it is with coming to know Jesus.  We are told today is the day of salvation, for many, maybe for you, and God calls us to seek him.  Like Joy Lunch, we were hungry, and God provided a place just for us.  Our souls long after God, and he provides Jesus as the way to satisfy, nothing else will.  At just the right time Romans tells us God sent him while we were yet sinners.  Before we were born, looking, or knew we need a savior, Jesus was ready.  And the time for us will be now.  Some in church, some at crusades, some in homes, and some out riding.  But the blessings don’t stop there, they only begin, and one lunch hour in Corydon God reminded us of that.  Planned for us from the beginning, he brought a couple of bikers, a couple who owned the diner, and a farming family together in a place appropriately called Joy.  For lunch.  To be fed, and be blessed. 

Checking out Tripadvisor today to see if Joy Lunch was still there, it is gone.   An Italian restaurant with great reviews is there.  A much younger couple being shown as the owners.  A place that exists only in our memories, and in our trip photos.  A meal that stands out among one of my favorites, being fed body, soul, and spirit.  A place God set up for us because he loves us.  Just to show he cares.  If God cares enough to bring bikers, cooks, and farmers together, imagine what he can do for you?  He has many a place called Joy for you today, most unexpected, but a love gift from him.  Via his son Jesus.  To some a Twilight Zone episode, but to those who seek him, we know a divine appointment.  A time he set up for us, before we could even ask. With like the old James Taylor song says “with 10 miles behind us, and 10,000 more to go.”  His blessings never stop, we never stop being hungry, and his daily bread for our lives has already been prepared for tomorrow.  And for today.

I hope that farmer and his wife get to see America by motorcycle.  We thought of stopping, even slowed down, his farm was right where he said it was, but we would have been interrupting, disturbing a family hard at work. So we honked and waved, they waved back,  not knowing who we were, but we knew them.  I think of them often when riding through the country, and think how God fed us that day.  Reminding myself how thankful I truly am for Jesus, and for farmers.  Meeting one for lunch, we became instant friends, and for a short time shared food, even if it was across the room.  But friends can do that, and Jesus calls us friends.  Spend some time with him today, he has a divine appointment with you, and to be shared with others.  To some just another lunch hour in Corydon, for us a special blessing.  Just like it said in the window.  “LUNCH SPECIAL.”  “JOY LUNCH.”  And it was.  The signs will always be there, if only we take the time to stop and read. 

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

 

bumper to bumper coverage

As a rookie salesman calling on new car dealers, I wondered why some men in the shop were always busy, while some were always found to be standing around.  One Cadillac dealer in particular had a drum set in one back bay, and Ron was often heard playing there.  Live band in a service department?  But as I was to find out, American car service departments were much different than say Mercedes Benz, BMW, or Land Rover.  Ford, GM and Chrysler techs were specialized, some line-tune ups, noises, etc, some heavy line-engines and transmissions, some AC only, some brakes only-where the easy big bucks were, and some front end and alignment.  True all could do some of the other’s specialty, but it also explained why some made big bucks, they were busy, and some played the drums.  But when I went to work for Mercedes Benz, all were busy, all the time.  As a tech you were expected to work from bumper to bumper.  Including interiors, replacing windshields, and in some cases minor body work.  You were either a tech or you weren’t.  And hiring A line techs from American car companies, they often had trouble adapting.  The good ones caught on, were successful and made lots of money, the truly specialized went back.  They were willing to specialize and have time to play the drums, instead of fixing cars and making a good living.  A tech for Mercedes Benz or Land Rover could in one day do a major service, PDI new cars, replace an AC condensor by disassembling the entire interior, and later replace a windshield.  In between trying to find a squeak no one else could hear, or doing a simple oil change.  No time to play the drums in these shops, you were hired to work, and expected to do your job. 

I get to attend many car shows, and I like the ones with many types of cars, rather than the single brand event.  An all Ford, or all Pontiac show may be family for those who own them, but I like to see all cars.  All years, muscle and luxury, even old Ramblers, Hudson’s, and Kaisers.  Each has its own personality, being able to see them together at a show, just like you once saw them on the road.  Bumper to bumper types and brands of cars....where the theme is cars, not a particular one.  Sponsor a muscle car only show, and you hurt those who own a non-SS454, or a Mustang with a 6 cylinder instead of a Boss 302.  More rules, less classes, and often less class.  Same with motorcycles, which translates into the ones who ride them.  I have seen Honda techs who refused to change a tire on a Yamaha-not trained enough I heard one tell a customer once, yet when we get together, we find the tire doesn’t care what brand of bike, it just knows when it is flat.  Harley owners of the past were told in the owners manual to only use Harley Davidson oil.  And more than once did we chase down an HD store to get Harley oil, when nothing else would do.  At least today’s bike techs are bumper to bumper-they need to know about everything on a bike, no pretty boys here.  Yet some still specialize on one brand, giving them more time to practice the drums.

Reading on a web site yesterday about a church my friend attends, I looked under “who we are,” then to “staff.”  There was a Senior Pastor, Missions Pastor, Assistant and Associate Pastors, Youth Pastors, Music Pastor, Lay Pastors, and then even more sub-groups.  I wondered, could a Missions Pastor answer my question about a non-Missions question?  Was I too old to speak with the Youth Pastor?  Could I associate with an assistant?  What if the Senior was a junior, or I was older, would he still be a senior?  Foolish questions maybe, but so few are truly trained, or experienced in Jesus.  Their specialized skill alienates them, could the music pastor point me to Jesus without music?  What about a Youth Music Lead Worship Associate’s assistant?  What if the Missions Pastor was older, from Mexico, could he be a Senior or a Senor Pastor?  Pharisees all by design...and along comes Jesus.  While some went to school to study, he ministered in the spirit.  While some studied ministry, he was ministry.  While others assisted, he associated, no matter the age, social standing or sex.  His love knew no boundaries, no limits, he came to save, not to specialize.  He was just as happy with kids as he was with adults, and was often seen with hookers, junkies, bikers, and others who aren’t fit for church.  The Membership Pastor’s job.  He went to them, out of the church, out of the building.  He healed the sick, not the worthy, fed the hungry, not the needy.  He visited those  who were in jail, setting them free in the spirit, even if condemned to die.  He ministered to those in need....a far cry from some churches today.  And those engaged in them missing out on many blessings.  When led by the spirit, each service was different, no special healing services, no book sales for missionaries, or youth group fund raisers.  Jesus supplied all their needs in his riches and his glory.  Try to find that in any church today and call me, I want to join!

Maybe ministry can be best described as teamwork was to me when working for Roger Penske.  “If it needs to be done, do it.”  How simple. Backing up the great commission of Jesus, “as you go, make disciples.”  Some saved through healing, some by teaching, some by counseling, and some even in church.  Some in alleys, jail, biker bars, and even one on one with a neighbor.  The common thread, the only way to be saved being Jesus.  The Holy Spirit calling that person, and God assigning someone to lead them.  To pray with them.  To love them.  To be blessed.  No matter what they drive or ride.  Jesus meets needs, do we?

Consider that the next time you think evangelism is inviting someone to church.  The spirit is willing at any moment, are you?  Will you take time to pray right now, or blow them off by telling them you’ll pray for them...later.  Fixing what is broken is what techs do, and what Christians need do to.  We fix people, with Jesus as the prescription.  Paul was the best example, becoming all things to all men.  Rich and smart he served best wherever he was.  An example of Jesus, now what is your title?  What is your job description?  Mine says Christian...there will time to play the drums later.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the picture over my desk

Over my desk hangs a picture of my Bonneville stuck in the front bumper of a Nissan Maxima.  The woman hit me hard enough the bike never went down, but I did.  Driving on a suspended license she tried to escape by calling her husband to come and say he was driving.  Witnesses told a different story, the truth.  I was sitting at a light on Oakland Park Blvd. in Ft. Lauderdale early one morning, when a car hit me from behind, pushing the driveshaft into the engine of my R90/6.  The last thing I remembered before waking up in the hospital in a body splint was his license plate number 10WW10791, while he drove away leaving me in a ditch.  It seems being hit from behind has become a life long characteristic for me, on bikes and in cars.  In 8th grade my Dad was hit behind in his VW, later the insurance wanted to deny coverage, the woman who hit us said I was driving.  Just before moving to California from New Mexico I got hit from behind in my Coke pick up.  Vehicles OK, but my ears ring ever since, the hearing test afterwards describing me as having the same hearing as a man working in a factory for 40 years.  I was 32 at the time.  I even got  rear ended in my new pickup, the man who hit me offering to call 911, after he finished the call he was on when he hit me.  Theresa on his first time out riding by herself was hit from behind, two vehicles back in a chain reaction.  And you guessed it, he ran, but two young guys chased him down for the sheriff.  She also got hit from behind in our T Bird, the car crumpled, she was sore, but the woman who hit her trying to blame her through her blown out air bags.  There have been other hits and near misses, but a common theme appears in all-no one wants to claim responsibility for their actions.  It seems that human nature automatically causes us to blame someone else.  That human nature has a name, God calls it sin.  Whether under the influence of alcohol, drugs, cell phones, children, or stupid-when it is your fault, your decision, and you deny it, you are under the influence of sin.  And God offers you a way of forgiveness...the law and your insurance company don’t.  Maybe they know better than God what a lousy driver you really are.  Just be glad they don’t decide who goes to heaven,and who goes to hell.  In all cases, again it is the same-YOU!

An attorney friend once told me 85% of his cases would go away if people weren’t stupid, if they took responsibility.  If they just told the truth.  That same truth that Jesus promises will set you free.  But yet we have become a society of lies, big and small, even one man commenting “even when I am lying I am telling the truth.”  I watched as a Coca Cola exec told a crowded room, “if the truth won’t work, a good lie will.”  We were appalled, he was fired the next day.  The Coca Cola Company doesn’t forgive.  Jesus does.  I even asked a man once, caught in a lie, “how many times do you have to lie before you are a liar?”  He thought about, and couldn’t come up with a number.  How about one!?  Even Agent Mulder will tell you the truth is out there.  He knows about being lied to.  But do we realize that the truth comes from within, via the Holy Spirit?  That the father of all lies is the devil?  And yet we choose to fabricate stories for our benefit....and suffer accordingly.

We are told scripturally that “we will know the truth and it will set us free.”  The truth being a person, Jesus, who came to set sinners free.  Who offers us repentance, a chance to change our ways, but the first step is to realize you sinned.  The evidence is there, the accuser is there, and the truth is there.  You may even be there...why deny what everyone else knows?  The truth.  Yet many still deny Jesus. Who is “the truth, the way, and the life.”  Not a way like the Jehovah Witnesses claim.  They lie.  But choosing, their choice, to believe a lie.  Sometimes even knowing the consequences of sin, death and hell.  Is hell worth it just to cover up a sin, when forgiveness is available 24/7 in Christ?  Why would you not want to be forgiven?

Adam and Eve both sinned, both told different stories, but both arrived at the same answer.  “Yes, we ate, we sinned.”  Going as far as they can, or we can in correcting evil.  Admitting our sin, taking responsibility for it.  It took a loving God then, it takes one now, to be saved and forgiven.  In our sin he doesn’t condemn us, our sin does that.  He wants us to see our sin and ask forgiveness.  He wants to fellowship with us, yet sin stands in the way.  It stands in the way of many relationships today also.  Sadly.  God is not trying to drag truth out of us for punishment, but to have us see our fallen state, turn to him, and be forgiven.  Anything else is a lie.  And yet we focus on the sin of Adam and Eve, the fall bringing sin into the world, yet neglect the message, the true message of love, God forgiving them through Jesus.  Like it was in the beginning, and as it is today.  On earth, as it will be in heaven.  It takes forgiveness to get in...what lie are you believing by not choosing Jesus?  And being forgiven?

Even Adam and Eve admitted their sin, it took a bit, they both blamed the devil.  But the truth then and now still wins out.  Yet some choose perception over truth.  Even Superman stood for truth, justice, and the American way.  Maybe that was a power we need to see, that truth comes from the supernatural-only from a living God, through Jesus.  If a man born on another planet can see it, why can’t we?  And so this picture hangs over my desk.  Not the happiest picture among Hollister posters, Triumph ads, and Steve McQueen.  It hangs next to Duel, the bad trucker who chased a car to its own death.  Sin will always bring death and destruction, and all the kings horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put Humpty back together again.  Only Jesus can.  A picture of a bike stuck in the grill of a car, it took a group of men to separate it, the bike never going down.  The car was towed.  30,000 milers later I still ride that bike.  The Nissan has gone to Nissan eternity for parts.  God saved me from death that day, he saved me from sin and death almost 40 years ago.  Be set free in Jesus, let the truth into your life and see sin for what it is.  Be forgiven.  His nail pierced hands proving who he is.  All the evidence is there, what will your story be?  How will it end?  The picture can only tell a moment in time, your life is a film.  The stories of what followed can fill many devotions, the common theme Jesus.  All God wants us to do is face the facts....he did with Adam and Eve, maybe today is the day he does it with you.  What picture hangs over your desk?  And what does it tell? 

My Bonneville and I both rose again....Jesus set me free.  Are you?

love with compassion,

Mikematthew25biker.blogspot.com

 

where are you?

Even despite the best, most carefully given directions, in spite of your GPS telling you “turn right in .6 miles,” and your spouse noting “that building looks familiar, haven’t we just been by it,” and turning down the radio to better navigate, why do we do that escapes me, we get lost.  We don’t know where we are in regards to where we want to be, so we start to panic.  We look at signs in the country, but all road numbered roads look the same. “Was that Road 220 or 228?”  When confused all things seem to take on a similar, yet unfamiliar look, and rather than stop and seek directions, we keep going.  Now on most of my rides that can prove to be a good thing, as long as I have gas, we aren’t lost.  But many times when an appointment has been arranged, or someone is depending on you, panic begins to set in.  And even though we can be very close, we feel very far away.  Finally in desperation we call the one who we are to meet, who answers with “where are you?”  And you think, “if I knew, I wouldn’t ask.”  But more often you just exclaim “I’m lost!”  Never our fault.  And whether in the mountains, in the fields, or downtown USA, all things look the same. And reference points seemed blurred, you need to go back and find a place of reference so you can be told how to go.  You need to find a starting point, and “I don’t know” isn’t the right answer.  Honest, just wrong.

But what if you have followed the directions explicitly, and not where you need to be?  One morning I was to meet Theresa in Orange County at a picnic, riding ahead for business.  Simple directions, and she is very good at navigation.  “Up the 405, get off at Beach and go right.  The park was only 2 miles, you can’t miss it.”  And when she didn’t show up, I became concerned, I never thought she had gotten lost, where was she?  And when she called, I asked “where are you?”  “At the beach?”  How did she get there?  Following my directions...she got off at Beach and turned right....but where I had come in from the other way, I didn’t know you went under the overpass, and then turned right following the road, going to the beach.  I thought it was a simple off ramp, and go right...I directed, she listened and obeyed, and ended up at the beach.  Six miles the other way! 

But many times the signs don’t help either.  Roads split, and exits disappear if you take the wrong fork.  Again if out for a ride I have found many cool roads I didn’t know about, but when I try to tell others I cannot tell them how to get there.  I knew where I was, just not sure where I was.  Lastly getting lost in big cities is easy for me, I am used to the intelligent grid Albuquerque is laid out on.  Give me an intersection, and a few minutes, I’ll be there.  But one city that was laid out by wandering cows, maybe drunk, has Main Street, Main Avenue, Main Place, Main Circle, Main Drive, and Main Road.  All in different areas, and not to be confused by the state of Maine everything.  Suddenly 1220 Main takes on a new, scary destination.  And what happens when a canyon gets between you, and the road on the other side.  One way streets not going the way you want only make it worse.  No one wants to be lost, to admit to being lost, or to stop and ask directions....

The first question asked in the Bible is from God, to Adam and Eve?  “Where are you?”  They didn’t show up for their daily afternoon walk, and God knew something was up.  He knew where they were, hiding, but wanted to hear from them.  For them to admit they were lost.  To seek him and find the way back.  But sin stood in the way, they were seeking a way back, and God was the way.  We are told that he physically walked with them, and when God appears in physical form, it is in the form of Jesus.  And here we have the first evidence of Jesus reaching out to sinners, to two lost souls, seeking to reunite with them.  Note he is seeking them, while they hide from him.  It is called a theophany, the physical manifestation of God, and from the beginning in the Garden, he is looking for those who are lost.  Today if God were to ask you “where are you?” could you tell him?  Would you tell him?  What would you say?

When a man asked for prayer last night, I had just met, I asked “where are you with Jesus?”  It makes all the difference in the answer.  Saved, you may just need direction, simple forgiveness, and to be shown the way back.  But if not saved, if truly a lost sinner, you need to be saved.  And giving spiritual advice to one not in the spirit will only confuse more.  Many well meaning Christians have given advice without asking “where are you with Jesus?” leaving the lost person worse off than when he began.  If God asks “where are you?” it certainly is OK for us to ask.  For without a starting point, a point of reference, you may be given good advice, just not right advice.  And spend a day at the beach, missing the picnic. 

Jesus answered many questions with questions, making us think.  Allowing us to understand, giving us that focal point to concentrate on and start from.  We need to know where the questioner is before we can give adequate directions.  To minister effectively. To show love and forgiveness.  We need Jesus to guide, but we need to know where we are so we can get on the right path.  All roads, like all advice lead somewhere, but not always where we want to go.  And the tank may be low, with only Jesus knowing the way.  

Where are you with Jesus?  Maybe you don’t know, at least an honest answer.  Seek him today, answer him honestly, then follow his directions.  Stiff necked Jews wandered 40 years in the desert, never going far from home, they never asked direction.  Are you saved and lost your way?  Are you wandering and wondering about Jesus?  Take time to consider where you are.  Then let God guide you to where you need to be.  You may be looking for a place on Main, but without keeping Jesus the main thing, you’ll never find that right address.  Many things look the same when lost, or confused.  Nobody likes to admit they are lost.  But it is the first step to salvation.  Maybe the most important question you will ever be asked.  So, where are you with Jesus?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

what motorcyclists talk about

Most of your life is spent on a journey from point A to point B.  Without ever stopping to realize it.  We wake up, we go to bed.  We go to school, we graduate.  We get a job, we go to job.  We come home, we go to bed.  We repeat this 250 times a year, with two weeks off for vacation, and some call it life.  They fail to see that we spend most of our time along the way, that we are in a perpetual as you go situation.  They travel the same roads, yet fail to see where they are going, or where they have been.  Even sadder is they miss the things along the way, the life that is happening right before our very eyes.  Places that many times only exist in our dreams, yet we have the chance to travel them every day.  Safe and secure in mediocrity, they raise families to live the same lives, passing generational losses on to their children.  Feigning success, happiness, and finding comfort in arriving.  They made it, but outside of arriving have nothing to show for the ride.  Those of us who ride know better.  Life is more personal, as we use all the senses God created in us to enjoy the day, and the ride.  Last weeks four day, 1000 mile ride reminded me of the freedom in riding, freedom of the road, the destination secondary when you are setting out on a road, and having the perfect riding partner along to share it with is where it is at.  Only on a motorcycle do you look at the skies before setting out.  Dress in layers, one morning started out in the 40’s, jacket off by lunch, and in the 80’s by dinner.  In a car, you turn on the heater/AC, the radio, and just go.  Latte in one hand, our lives in your other as you attempt to steer around us.  We check our tires, how many miles till empty via the trip mileage, where breakfast will be, usually an hour down the road, and what roads we will ride.  Maps old and creased from folding are old friends, and you plan your day around the ride, the road, arriving wherever when you get there.  Side roads call, we rode three roads I have passed by for years wondering where they went, rode too fast at 20mph, too slow at 80.  One off camber, up hill, 180 degree turn in first the most challenging.  We savor the points between A and B where most others rush by, the places we see they don’t.  The memories we have they won’t, and a good night’s sleep from being tired, not stressed.  And wake up each morning ready to ride again.

We check and lube our chains.  Check our tires for wear, and to see how much of the sides we have used.  Bikers know how many miles we can go until we hit reserve, which gas gives better performance, why Dunlops steer quicker, but wear faster than Michelins, and why to sit at the counter at a diner where all the action is.  When we stop and visit we compare road notes, places to eat, places to avoid, and inquire of “which way are you going?” which also tells us where you came from.  We have a common bond, we ride, and the road becomes a third party, it is real, has personality, ups and downs, detours, and fast sweepers.  It is the life we spend most of our waking hours on, so we enjoy it and look forward to it.  It is our destination, not just a way to get somewhere.  Those who drive just don’t get it, the artificial environment with controlled temp and music is boring to us.  Allowing a GPS to guide our day is sinful, being stuck in traffic stupid, and driving side by side in no way compares to riding with one in back of the other.  We call them cages, they get in, lock the door, put the latte down, turn on the satellite radio, and prepare to be bored.  Thinking you are entertained.  Stuck behind the wheel, never knowing the freedom of behind the handlebars.

Too many Christians I know confuse God and the church.  Thinking they are the one and the same, they go to church, tithe at church, get prayed for at church, and even endure church for an hour once a week.  They are stuck in a cage, just like being in a car, repeating 52 times a year, and never going anywhere with God.  Climate controlled religion.  Living life to the least, thinking they are living it to the fullest.  In Christ, just not with Jesus.  They ask for the spirit to come, never knowing he is always present, they have turned away.  Same music, same seat, same pastor, and same messages, nothing new, until Jesus becomes real in their lives.  Religion will do that, a man once told me “he always feels safe on the road when going to church, all the masses are the same.”  Never challenged by what God can do in a life, that is for others.  Yet they miss the fact that Jesus spent most of his time on the road.  Everyday the road was his destination, and the people he met along the way.  It even happened to the apostles, Philip meeting the Ethiopian eunuch, and Paul meeting Jesus.  Where?  On the road.  Where the action is, where the people are.  Where we ride.  Our destination for the day’s trip.  Which is why some have testimonies to share, while some are the audience.  Some follow Jesus, some just follow.  Some lead, some must be led.  Only Jesus and bikers know the true freedom of the road.  Maybe that is why Christian bikers are a special breed, we understand freedom.  We ride.  We know Jesus. 

And so recall the great commission Jesus gives us.  To go and make disciples.  Not in church, but along the road.  It is given in a perfect tense, meaning “as you go,” share Jesus.  Hard to do in a locked car, easier one to one.  Face to face, or helmet to helmet.  As we ride, we live, we share, we build testimonies.  Life is a ride, and the ride is life.  Don’t be like some who quit riding because they got old, only to find they got old because they quit riding. Don’t confuse your life in Christ with going to church.  Quit praying for the spirit, and start living in him.  Jesus left us his spirit to guide, comfort, and ride with until he returns.  He is here, you are here, the road is here.  Still don’t get it?  Where the spirit of the Lord is there is liberty.  We look down the road, anticipating the next curve, not looking behind to see who is gaining.  We ride the ride Jesus gives us to the max.  He is the Alpha and the Omega, beginning and end, but also the right now.  Which is where we spend all our time.  Today was tomorrow yesterday.  Tomorrow will be yesterday soon enough.  Enjoy the day, the ride, and Jesus.  Get all the blessings from life he offers.  Cars and religion, now you know why we ride motorcycles.  And why we love Jesus.  I’d try to explain, but you probably couldn’t hear me inside my Arai. 

And now you know why dogs ride with their heads out the window.  Freedom...and why a 200 mile for orange juice ice cream makes perfect sense.  And what motorcyclists talk about...freedom.  In between rides, of course.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com