there ain't no easy way out

I tell people that I win more battles today because I am better at picking my fights.  That old Kenny Rogers’ line about “know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em “ applies to many decisions in life other than cards.  And with life being a daily battle for most, when it becomes too overwhelming turn to drugs or alcohol.  Which only makes the situation worse.  Never will you hear “I was a total failure and then started smoking pot.  Today I am a success.”  Rather I deal with many whose families have been ruined by alcohol and drug abuse.  Prisons are filled with nice people who under the influence did things they normally would not have done.  And they and their families pay the price, sometimes for decades.  There ain’t no easy way out, yet many look for it in things, something that can ease the pain.  Or prolong the inevitable.  Something to show an escape route, so desperate that they will try anything.  And when the escape escapes them, some will finally take their own life.  Brave or chicken not for me to decide, but those that are left behind suffer.  Close the wound and hide the scar, but the pain remains.  Many ask what does love have to do with it, I can tell you from experience that love has everything to do with it.

While we may have to screw up, to obtain mercy, that is one of the qualifications, God’s grace is readily available, does not depend on us, and is in action without us even knowing it.  Saved or unsaved, God’s grace is there.  But we tend to think of grace as for us, a personal gift from a loving God who sent Jesus to save us, but many times he uses us to pass his grace through to others.  We get to be a part of the grace he has for others, just because he loves us, not because we have the abilities, or even availabilities.  It is coming up on 3 years since my open heart surgery, where God has performed many a miracle in the fact I am not dead, but alive.  No one else in medical history had what I did, and a loving God and his grace got me through it to share with others.  But in it I saw a whole new side to grace, and found my thoughts of grace were selfish, all about me, with a thanks to God.  Sometimes.  But grace was about to be even more amazing than the song we sing...

A few weeks after release from the nursing home for rehab, I asked God “why didn’t you take me home?”  I had been described as the sickest person they had ever seen who wasn’t dead, and as close to death as you can come without dying.  His words were  not what I expected.  “So that your wife is not a widow, and your sons are not orphans.”  Suddenly grace wasn’t all about me, and I was glad it wasn’t.  But God wasn’t done, although I was happy with his answer.  When he knew I was ready, he took me to the next step.  We had all had a particularly bad year, from a house fire to my dad dying, to Andrew’s serious motocross crash, and God took me deeper.  “I showed grace so you could see how well your sons were doing.”  Things had changed and everyone was working, recovering, and enjoying life.  A full 180 from where we had been.  Yes, grace is a good thing, I will agree with God.  It was for me, but again not all about me.

Finally he showed me an even better way, and how selfish I had been.  Not knowing how selfish, but being shown in a loving way.  “I showed you grace so that your sons could see you seeing them successful.”  True to form, when God gets the glory, the blessings flow, but grace needs no conditions, just as God’s love for us doesn’t.  And as much as I look forward to heaven, I am glad I was saved from death to see my sons successful.  And them see me see them, and still around today.  After what I went through death would have been the easy way out for me.  It is tougher to be earthbound after seeing heaven, and I have just like the scripture tells us, there is no way to describe it other than “I want to go back.”  But God’s ways are different, and being here for my family has shown me grace, some so amazing I cannot find words.  Only an infinite God can love like that, and no finite words can describe him.  There ain’t no easy way out...yet there is.  His name is Jesus.

Proverbs 3:5 tells us to trust in the Lord with all our heart, and lean not on our own understanding.  Yet we try to figure things out, pick which battles to fight, and only consult God when all else fails.  The saddest words spoken in hospitals are “we have tried everything else, I guess it’s time to pray.”  Fortunately grace doesn’t wait for an invitation.  It is at work in us right now, some see it, some don’t, some others deny it.  But God’s love for you is so great he gave his son, and if he gave the most precious thing he ever had, imagine what else he can do for you.  When my aorta exploded, all hope was lost, but yet Dr. Walsinsky didn’t panic, later telling me “it is obvious that God intervened.”  When every doctor or nurse gave me up for dead, Jesus didn’t.  His work in me wasn’t finished, and yours isn’t either.  Until the day we face him in that amazing grace that has no words, we can experience it here on earth.  Jesus told his disciples to pray “on earth as it is in heaven,”  where I will have a perfect heart and no plastic aorta.  All sin washed away, no scars, yet the wounds Jesus bore for us will be evident.  He bore our iniquities, he took the beating.  He paid the price.  He showed us grace.  Amazing.

Jesus is the easy way out for us.  Turn to him today in your situation and find grace.  Not what you would expect, you get even more.  It is true life is a battlefield, but we will win the war.  Death is defeated.  Sin is conquered along with its wages.  Yet the battles continue daily, and we won’t win them all.  Grace changes that, for all things work for good, yet only those in Christ see it.  Coming to Christ opens the door to see, he is the easy way out, and will take us through the battles.  Some tough, some unwinnable, but somehow we prosper in his grace.  So don’t contain the grace God has for you, don’t limit Christ in your life.  Don’t wait until all else fails to call Jesus, the fact you are reading this this far shows God’s grace to you.  He wants to make it personal, will you let him?

My nine inch scar on my chest shows where Jesus held my heart and saved my life.  But in no way compare to the nine inch nails driven into his hands and feet.  Death is our final reward in Christ.  Staying here and serving him is tough at times.  And when there ain’t no easy way out, remember that.  Before you need to.  His grace is sufficient, and to me will always be amazing.  So easy a sinner can do it.  And you say....

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the winter I couldn't ride

43 years ago this month I bought my first motorcycle.  A lot of things have changed over those years, but one constant has been that I have always owned at least one motorcycle.  Well, almost, for there was a 100 day period that we were bikeless, but would return.  We lived in Colorado at the time, at 8300’ altitude, and had over 500 inches of snow that winter.  Newly married, we had a 1977 BMW R100S, the bike I had met Theresa on, my fifth and to be my last BMW.  It started to make a noise that sounded like it was coming from the engine, so still under warranty I took it to the dealer, some 90 miles away.  Who replaced the ring and pinion in the final drive under warranty, and we were bikeless for a few weeks.  But with winter coming on, we had other concerns, heat and food among them, but still waited for the call it was ready.  And I can still remember the day I got it, and the ride back from Farmington, and how good it felt to ride again, how the biting cold didn’t seem to matter, I was on two wheels.  And so what if it would snow the next 4 months, my ride was home and all was well.  Or so I thought, and so I hoped and prayed.  I can still remember riding past Carl Brown’s farm on County Road 501 when the noise began, and the engine lost power.  And how a short time later it quit altogether, and how I coasted it home, heartbroken.  And being without a phone, we lived 27 miles from town and phones were paid for by the mile, and for a party line, I called the dealer from a phone booth and complained.  Simply told to bring it back, I never did, as the snows fell, and with no pickup I had no way.  But visited the dealer a week later anyway to voice my dismay.  And got a greeting I didn’t expect...

I was greeted physically by the service manager, who accused me of putting something over on him.  Ring and pinions don’t make noise, and BMW would not replace the non-defective parts they replaced, and he wanted me to pay for them.  He diagnosed it, not me.  And told me never bring the bike in again!  Yeah, right!  Stupid hurts, and it fit him well, sadly it fit me too.  And the S never would be ridden again.  It was later discovered that both rods had separated from the crankshaft, so much for fine German engineering and manufacturing, and was useless.  I was left with a $4300 paperweight, that in the dead of winter was repossessed, I had quit making payments to BMW since they wouldn’t fix it.  It took the repo man hours to dig it out of our basement, and was the first and last bike I wasn’t sad to see go.  But it left a void, one that has never been duplicated.  For the next 100 or so days I was without a motorcycle.  So what if I couldn’t ride, so what it was daily below zero, or we had 40 feet of snow.  I had no ride...and it only made the winter longer.  But another bike was waiting, I just didn’t know it, yet.  And despite the weather, economic conditions, family raising, job changes, and major moves, God has seen to it I always have a motorcycle.  But that 100 days was brutal....

But when spring came, and a used 1975 Z-1 came my way, all was forgotten.  And even though it was high miles, 46,000, I put another 30k on it in 3 years, still at 8300’ and snow.  And ended up trading it for a new 1981 KZ750 to the dealer in Salida, Tom who paid me retail for it.  He wanted it!  And the list was to go on, and dozens of bikes later, my quiver, or garage is still full today.  Winters in So Cal allowing me to ride everyday if I want.  And I want.  But for a brief time, there was no paradise.  No riding, and nothing to ride.  Perhaps the toughest time in our marriage, broke, cold, hungry, and bikeless, but not without God.  Better than the Post Office, he delivers despite the weather and despite the circumstances.  And we were never alone.

Now 100 days over 43 years doesn’t sound like much, but when you are enduring it, with no end in sight, it seems never ending.  Eternity is like that, never ending.  Yet we are told to live our lives daily, not worrying about tomorrow, for it has enough problems of its own.  But still we live looking forward to eternity, and where we will spend it.  Heaven calls, but hell calls too, and many things can keep us out of heaven.  Things we worship instead of God, while claiming he is still first.  Things we can touch, see, and ride.  But cannot be taken with us to heaven, but can drive us to hell.  Like motorcycles, cars, careers, jobs, or well, you get it.   That 100 days I didn’t know it then, but God was curing me of idol worship, and giving me a priority to live by.  Him first.  It was a tough lesson, and a cold one, but we never went without food,shelter, or clothes.  Just a motorcycle.  Despite being without income, he met all our needs, and continues to today.  Despite bad choices, bad decisions, and bad motorcycles, he stayed with us.  We were able to face piles of trials  with smiles, like the old Moody Blues lyric with Jesus.  And after a harsh winter, and nothing to ride even if we could, he came through when springtime hit.  He had another cycle ready for us, and then another, and another.  Bringing people into our lives we never would have met without the storms, or broken engines.  Bringing us to where we are today.  Sometimes kicking and screaming, such is his love.  For us it was one winter, 100 days.  For Job it is said it was 18 months.  With no end in sight.  Problems are like that, but so is God.  He sees the end, knows where we are, meets us there, and makes all things work for good for us.  All things, even snow and broken bikes.  We were building a testimony, still are, and sometimes we forget about that.  That every day we face those piles of trials, mostly without smiles, but God is always there.  And when we look back and give him the glory, we get the blessings. 

Whether in surgery, recovering, behind bars, homeless, unemployed, foreclosed on, or pushing your bike instead of riding it, Jesus is with you.  He never left, will never leave, and will show you the way through the storms.  Not around them, but through, wanting to show his love, to prove he is worthy of all praise.  To which he advise us, “never give up hope, never give up.”  But give in, to his will and his way. Guided by his spirit, we will make it into eternity.  Heaven with him, hell without him.  A choice he allows us to make.  The S could have stopped running anywhere, yet he got me home.  We made it through the worst weather of our lives, and maybe the toughest part in our young marriage, but God was faithful.  Even when we weren’t.  Now that’s love.  A better warranty than anything man made can provide.  In your winter of non-riding today remember that.  Don’t give up, give in.  He will rescue you and get you through, if only to your next trial.  With his daily bread, so enjoy today for what it is worth.  And Jesus is always worth it.  It took a winter of no motorcycles to get my priorities straight, and today my passion to ride is strong, but my passion for God is much stronger.  He reminds me daily of how much he loves us, if only we could see him more clearly how much different our life would be. 

100 days doesn’t seem like much, but a 100 day lesson has proved vital to my life with Christ.  Motorcycles have come and gone, yet Jesus remains.  Nothing can separate us from his love.  Romans 8 tells us ³⁷ No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. ³⁸ For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,^[k] neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, ³⁹ neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

And may I add to that winters without motorcycles.  Remember that today when faced with your next trial, and we will have them, so let Jesus do what the law couldn’t do.  What warranties and doctors cannot.  He gives us eternal life with him.  And he wants nothing to stand between us.  For me it was a two wheeled idol, what is it for you?  Only God knows, let nothing separate us from his love.  That next blessing could be around the corner or just 100 days away. For me it was the winter I couldn’t ride. And when your motor starts making strange noises, go to God first.  Now go out and enjoy your ride, knowing Jesus is with you.  And he will get you home.  The ultimate riding machine let me down, the ultimate Son of God never will.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the day Abram learned to ride

It has happened to all of us, going to a new school, new job, or joining a club.  We make new friends, and suddenly where our calendar may have been full, now when asked “what are you doin’ Saturday,” the reply is as creative as “nothing really, what are you thinking?”  But a big step for many is when they learn to ride, and seek out others who ride also.  Maybe at the dealership, maybe at a bike night, or just stopping to visit with another rider, suddenly our whole social calendar has changed, and it is based upon the ride.  Or rather the motorcycle.  When old friends call and want to hang out, they don’t get it you want to ride, or just get a message to leave a message.  Rides get longer, the friends multiply, and pretty soon you find yourself in the brotherhood of others who ride.  You are one of them, and joined a minority, that once you may have looked down on, but now you call precious.  Your brothers and sisters who ride, and now you look at things differently.  You take the long way home when riding, go places you never would have thought of before.  You look at leather and riding clothes now, where before you spent too much on golf clothes or that shirt with the lizard on it.  You care less about your hairstyle, helmet head becomes a badge of honor, and you look for different “do rags” to fit the ride.  When the latest Cycle magazine comes, all other books and papers go unnoticed until it is read, and suddenly reading maps is interesting, rather than letting a GPS guide your trip in the car.  New friends who get it and you don’t have to explain why you ride to them, and when you do to others they don’t get it, and soon fall from your BFF list of favorites.  Whereas your peer group once was composed of those who you worked with, golfed with, or some social organization, now you hang out with doctors, lawyers, retired mechanics, laborers, salesmen, and minimum wage earners-the common denominator is you all ride.  A stronger peer group is formed, the brotherhood is added to, and the old life style has given way to life.  “I wish I had learned to ride sooner.....”  Wasted words on those who don’t. 

In Genesis 12 God tells Abram to do three things, “leave your country, your people, and your father’s household and go to the land I show you.”  When told to leave his country, God wants him to leave his old life behind, just as we are told by Jesus we are a new creature in Christ, leave the past behind.  We may not physically leave, but spiritually we do. Our old values based on things change to value based on Christ, and we see things differently. The things we once thought were important then we see as a burden now, money, fame, and fortune may have seemed important once, we now see success in God’s eyes, and we have values, rather than valuables.  Abram was told to leave his family, which in a spiritual sense form our morals.  Just because our parents did is no longer an excuse, we now see things in the spirit, and have freedom.  Opinions and traditions now have little value, and their influence where at one time was heavy, now is burdensome.  We pick up our cross, and follow Jesus, we renounce what others may think, and now we are more interested in what God thinks, and we want to think like him, he is the major influence any more.  And the others in your past just don’t get it.  And just like riding, you cannot explain it, how do you describe an infinite God in finite terms to a natural mind not in the spirit?  And soon their opinions become a burden, where the spirit brings life.

Lastly God told Abram to leave his father’s house, to break ties with the past.  As a new creature in Christ, we now read the Bible and want to, we get it.  We attend church, Bible studies, and pray for others-openly.  We no longer depend on what we used to have, but now depend completely on God.  The name Jesus Christ means something, and as once it was cursed, now we revere it and use it to worship.  We have become part of a new covenant, a new family, and have a new life.  We depend on God to carry us to places where we cannot carry ourselves, we depend on and in him, rather than our own talents, education, traditions, and old friends.  We are born again, and with Jesus Christ guiding us via his spirit, we find life to be worth the living.

And so it was the day that Abram learned to ride.  He found freedom in God whom he had worshipped, but never knew personally.  He saw others riding, but never thought he would or could.  And then God changed his heart, and he became the father of a mighty nation.  Suddenly and over time he wanted to ride with God, and go where God directed.  He found value in a relationship with him, trust won out over tradition, old values, old friends, and old ways of doing things.  He was free from philosophy, and now had freedom to worship, as he was guided by God and not his own desires.  And the same thing happens when we come to Christ, old friends and old values fade away, we find joy and peace we never knew, and we see things through the eyes of Christ, instead of the eyes of opinion.  It can be as exciting as your first ride, and last longer, the brotherhood found among bikers a far second to that with Christ and other believers.  And when you become that new creature, it is like the first time they hear you ride, some are curious, some resentful, others just think you are nuts.  They don’t get the change from double knit to leather, the brotherhood of bikers, or why you find freedom in it.  They are still bound by laws and misconceptions, they may be interested the same way we were, and just need to be invited along for a ride.  And told about Jesus.  No preaching, just sharing your ride, let the spirit change them as he does you.  And soon they will change, and then it is up to them to try to explain Jesus in terms others don’t get.

If you happen to ride and know Jesus personally, you get it.  If not no words can change you, but our testimonies will influence you.  The Holy Spirit is telling you right now “you need Jesus,” and we all have a different testimony.  Share yours with others, and if you haven’t got one, today is the day of salvation.  Maybe for you.  The first day Abram rode with God must have been exciting and scary all at once.  But as the miles passed, so did the fear, the excitement grew and the rides became longer.  Leave your past behind, new roads lie ahead, only in Christ will you ever see them.  Roads not found on any GPS, roads only found like Abram did with God.  It all starts that first day you ride with him, for Abram it began the first day he left Ur, for me the first day I found Jesus.  Saying nothing is really saying no, don’t be a buddy seat sitter all your life.  Grab life by the handlebars and find the freedom in the spirit others have who know Christ Jesus.  And you won’t have to explain, just a nod when we meet will do, we get it.  The question is do you?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25bikerbiker.blogspot.com

parable of the golf date

I would like to go on record as to the fact I do not play golf.  I once did, and in fact wasn’t really too bad a golfer, but any game where the low score wins I lose interest in.  To me golf can best be described as one swing, and 4 minutes walking to the next one.  Boring.  Exercise it ain’t, for no one walks any more.  And for me that is boring.  Time consuming, and expensive.  Which all add up to frustrating, so why golf when I can ride.  How exciting is driving a golf ball when you can ride a motorcycle?  And like I said I wasn’t a bad golfer, I really wasn’t a good one either.  Until mini bikes and motorcycles mixed with girls took over my life, I played every morning in the summer.  I was never a long driver, but straight, very rarely off the fairway.  My putting game was good, usually down in 2 or 3.  But get me with 10-20 yards of the green, and I was looking at 4 shots just to get there.  It was either too much, and finding the downhill run on the other side landing me in the lake, or if I didn’t reach the lake, hitting it too hard again over the green, back where I started. Too much club you could trace my divots to the green, and while those others in the foursome waited patiently, I grew more impatient.  My game could best be described at that point like the old Dennis the Menace cartoon, where Dennis proudly claims “good thing I went along today, Dad got his highest score ever.” 

Now the 17th fairway at Ashbrook was a dogleg to the right, with a pond at the turn.  Good golfers could hit over it, for me I stored balls there for later.  Only to have them resold back to me by the kid who lived right off the green on 17, his wagon filled with balls that had gone in his yard, or he fished from the pond.  Quite the entrepreneur at age 12, used balls for 25 cents.  All from donations from golfers like me.  So I don’t play golf, I don’t even like it the game.  You can have it, and the only redeeming quality I can find it has is that it keeps you from driving on the roads I ride.   And if those who golf drive a car like they drive a golf ball, we are all better off. 

But miniature golf, that’s different.  Or it used to be, I was a good putter and could navigate the windmills and bricks placed between me and the hole.  Strange bends, uphills leading to bends you couldn’t see, I was there.  Until one night on a date with Marcia, and my game fell apart.  I had a bad case of the yips, and made every bad shot you could.  After bragging in front of the crowd how good I was, I was embarrassed, and cussing myself out over every missed shot.  Silently of course.  But as the night drug on, and my shots got worse, hers got better.  You could have blindfolded her and she would make them, and then there was me.....and after the first nine I was still ahead, she was that bad!  But the back nine was her chance to improve, and she did, as I stayed mired in the dulldrums.  And when we sat down she was excited, she even had a couple of holes in one.  We stood and added up each others scores, and I was beyond embarrassed.  She had beaten me, fair and square for what that was worth, and was smiling out loud, laughing.  And I was, well embarrassed.  But cool, so as not to show it.  And then she caught me off guard, giving me a great big hug, she exclaimed “that was so sweet of you to let me win!”  Let’s just say I could not have planned it any better, so kept my mouth shut.  And soon my horrible golf game had turned into the romantic move of the night.  No other strategy could have made her any happier, or think I was more caring than my losing.  And it got better...

As she told her friends on the phone that night after getting home, she bragged how sweet I was to let her win.  All the other boyfriends ridiculed their dates, I had kept my mouth shut from embarrassment and it worked.  My loss turned out to be my gain.  A dating maneuver that others would later claim for their own was started that night by me.  And so you see, I really don’t like golf, but it does have it good sides.  But so does keeping your mouth shut.

Funny how the tongue can get you in trouble, or keep you out.  Being a charter member of the”I’ll Show You and Say Something Stupid Club” I am still learning while silence is golden.  And if you don’t say it, it is harder to be misquoted.  James warns us that the tongue can be evil, with it we both praise God, but then curse his creation.  Or worse him.  Can fresh water and bad water come from the same spring?  Scripture also alludes to us that what is on our heart, will come out of our mouths.  Also our attitudes, hmmm?  Maybe he is on to something here....Jesus tells us the tongue is a world of evil waiting to corrupt us, spreading wildfires like the gates of hell if not controlled.  Both my golf game and putting were out of character for me that night, but by being silent I was vindicated.  In my silence, I lost the round, but won the date.  If only life were that simple, a good reminder can be this parable of the golf game.  If you don’t say it, it cannot be repeated. And is harder to misquote.  But showing love when it is on your heart, which can only come from a loving God, reveals God in you.  No one has seen God, but many will see you today.  Be the one that the Bible speaks of in love, show Jesus in actions and attitudes, using words when needed.  My golf game needed help that night, but my dating game increased because of it.  Proving all things work for good for those called by God.  Right there in Romans.  And if it works for golf, and dating, imagine how it can improve your riding skill?  Social skills?  Your relationship with Christ? 

Avoid the rush of being known as the unstable man, who has problems in all his ways.  Let the words of your mouth and the meditations of your heart be pleasing to the Lord.  Do not be double minded, saying one thing and doing another.  God doesn’t keep score, others do.  And are sure to remind you when you aren’t up to par.  I never let Marcia know I didn’t let her win on purpose.  That was a gift from me I didn’t know I was giving.  Everyone likes to be a winner, she won twice that night.  But so did I. And you can too.  When it appears all hope is lost, remember it appeared that way at the cross.  But three days later it all changed-forever.  Jesus will change your heart, and your game.  And its plans.  He didn’t say he who has a mouth let him speak, he did say he who has an ear let him hear.  Proven one night at miniature golf, on a date we both would remember.  Unlucky at cards, lucky at love....I find trusting Jesus much better.  And you can quote me on that.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

cycle dates

Even more amazing than the fact that we remember at all, is the things that we do remember.  While going through some old mini discs from an older digital camera, we weren’t sure of what date we had been involved in with some of the  pictures.  Backgrounds with cars didn’t help much, as in the time period all cars were assuming the now standard gray, white, or black-with various shades to confuse the curious.  But when we saw our motorcycle in the picture, we suddenly knew the year, and usually the time, date, and those involved.  All by just seeing a motorcycle, we could date the pictures.  And then the memories would come flooding back, of weather, food, roads, and little things along the way that seemed unimportant then, but led credibility to the memory now.  A picture of me putting on a rain suit lost its time frame, until I saw the Tiger, and could place it in 2008, at the New River in West Virginia, and the memories of the road, and later lunch at Skeeter’s came back.  Just by knowing the bike that day, I knew the year.  And a rainy day that God made everything green for our ride down the old road down and over the river.  A 45 minute ride, rather than the 45 seconds to cross the new bridge....8 summers ago, and we still have the Tiger, although it is going up for sale.  A new Tiger, really just a newer Tiger has come into our life, and new photos to tell about our space in time are waiting to be taken, but for over 95,000 miles, 48 states and Canada, this has been the identifying icon in all our trip photos.  Hard to believe 9 years from when we bought it have passed, bikes and us have changed, only the memories haven’t.

I know it is time to sell it, but somehow I feel like I am abandoning an old friend.  In 124 degree temps she never let me down.  Two flash floods on one trip, no water too deep for her to be overtaken by.  So many 500+ miles day they are hard to count, and trips taken that are filed away and not yet retrieved.  And with such high mileage, even though I put 2000 miles on her last month in 6 days, to most she is just another high mileage bike.  For sale for the best offer, it almost doesn’t seem fair, and inhumane.  But I have had dozens of bikes, and sold them to get the next new one, yet this is different.  And setting up the new Tiger obvious comparisons are made.  The bags are smaller, tank smaller, and the seat different.  Two different bikes separated by only one year, but completely different in attitude.  And with 91,000 miles of riding difference between them, the old is being made new again.  I know no matter what the new buyer says, no one will treat her like I did, but I have to remember it is only a motorcycle, and hope it opens up new riding horizons for them like it did for me.  Just an old bike to most who read the Craigslist ad, but a treasure trove of memories for Theresa and I.  And the bike that all others will always be compared too.  The first bike I am looking for excuses to keep....

But others have come and gone, 5 BMW’s from the 70’s, the FJ100 with 76,000 miles on it.  The Z-1 from 1975 sold to Tom when I traded for a 1981 KZ750, he wanted it so bad he paid retail for it against my new bike.  The Honda Nighthawk 650 that got horrible gas mileage making Oklahoma seem longer than it is.  A most forgettable XS 500 Yamaha, what step down that was.  15 Triumphs, many with over 65,000 miles ridden on them, and each bike brings back stories.  The BMW R75/5 sold to a man who owed me money, and getting paid back twice, once the cash, the other when he came to the Lord.  Christians waved at the sticker on the bike, and he ended up becoming one.  Some bikes that broke my heart, some that broke my wallet, yet a time capsule just waiting to be opened with each one remembered.  My first new bike, the 1972 CB350, and all the rides it took me on.  And even all the miles done on press bikes from Triumph, I can date them too by rides and trips.  Thousand mile days on Daytonas, once was enough, to riding new bikes not yet available to dealers, each one has a time and place in my files of fun.  Just give me a year, I can tell what I was riding, and the trips and rides come back.  Filled in with where the boys were, where I was working, and where I lived.  All from one photo in time of a motorcycle.  Cycle dating, much better than carbon dating, you’ll have to take my word for it as no cave men are around to argue.  Maybe it is more than just an old bike with high miles after all.

But along with the rides of the past 40 years are the trips Jesus has taken me on.  Along for each mile, on each road, he has never left me or forsaken me.  The memories, rather the testimonies can fill a library, just like John wrote.  So many they cannot be contained, so should be shared.  But many don’t, they keep their light under a bushel, and never see the blessings they could, or should.  Time with Christ once filled their lives, now he is just a memory.  Abandoned, and maybe not even looked back on.  Nothing is more heart breaking than seeing an old friend in Jesus, and finding they have chosen to walk without him.  And their life shows it, the testimonies have stopped, and they don’t want to hear yours.  You both leave shattered a bit, a choice you made to stay with Christ no matter the situations that they didn’t.  But just like bikes come and go, Jesus doesn’t have to.  And if you fell away, he still welcomes you back.  While away you were building testimonies, you just didn’t know it.  And coming back now they can be shared, to encourage others.  The empty years without Jesus can be filled in with new ones today.  Look ahead to things on high, that is where we are going.  New rides and roads, just like the new bikes, just waiting to be ridden.  Riding old memories is fun, anticipating new one is more fun.  The one today exceeding them all.  Today will be a memory tomorrow, just as today was tomorrow yesterday.  Fortunately Jesus never changes, and can change us when we let him. 

Motorcycles will take you places, Jesus can take you even more.  Places of the heart not found on any map.  A relationship that is the basis for all others, who brings new bikes into your life, and your old one into the life of another.  So many times the old bike that is new to the new owner has them more excited than you are.  A new relationship has begun for them too, and soon they will have stories and testimonies of rides.  Works with Christ too.  To some just an old God, but to those who believe new life.  New adventures, and new blessings.  Meeting others who share their stories, and listen to yours.  “I had one like that once.  Met my wife on it, still riding with her.  Wish I had never sold it....”  Don’t let your story of Jesus be the same.  Hang onto Jesus no matter what or where you ride.  Hang onto the precious memories you have, and get excited for new ones.  Old friends take time, so do old motorcycles.  But each day with Jesus can be fresh and new.  Make a date with him today, one you will never forget.  Even better when dated by motorcycle.  So why are you still sitting here when you should be riding?

And so I will put the Tiger up for sale...it is someone else’s turn.  Maybe yours.  Just don’t ask me to give up Jesus.  I hope you can say the same when we meet. 

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

"the T stands for Larry, my father couldn't spell..."

Saturday morning for us kids was a treasure trove of cartoons.  Funny,yet sophisticated for  our 1960’s minds, we laughed, but it was later on in our teens when we began to understand the cleverness in the names of them.  Various bad guys like Dishonest John, whose “dirty deeds done cheap, special rates for Sundays and holidays,” would threaten heroes like Beany and Cecil.  Snidely Whiplash was always trying to kidnap Nell Fenwick, while Dudley Do Right would always rescue her at the end.  Yet his affection was always for his horse, poor Nell.  Dudley Nightshade was our favorite on Crusader Rabbit, whose partner in crime was Billious Green, great plays on words.  We laughed at all the names, we knew they were funny, we just didn’t know why.  Later as we got older and wiser at age 10, we had Milton the Monster, with Count Kook, and Heebie and Jeebie.  Monsters were a big thing at the time...at least in our neighborhood of kids.  Boris Badenov and his side kick Natasha were signs of the Cold War, where they reported to Fearless Leader, an obvious Nazi flashback.  But by the end of the show, Rocky would save the day, despite Bullwinkle, a favorite was in returning the Kerwood Derby, a play on words for Durwood Kirby, a news anchor on CBS.  Good and safe satire, entertaining to us kids, and that could be appreciated by adults.  And to start every morning we had Courageous Cat and Minute Mouse, with the coolest jazz music ever on a cartoon.  Later in the day we would laugh at Deputy Dawg, and Vincent Van Gopher with his witty insight.  Tom slick taught us there is no such word as quit, and Fearless Fly was really a meek, timid little fly known as Hiram, until he drank the secret sauce.  If only we were as smart then as the cartoons were, sadly some never make it.  Not the cartoons, us.

But my favorite was Ragland T. Tiger, the sidekick of Crusader Rabbit.  They reside in Lukupu Junction, and the show was perhaps the ultimate test for satire.  Arson/Sterno the two headed dragon, and Seymour the singing Dinosaur, who lost his voice at age 2 like all dinosaurs amused us.  King Kong Wong kidnapped Dr. Ed Foo Young, who was trying to perfect a game of Chinese checkers. We learned Civil War history through Simone Legree, a testament to Uncle Tom’s Cabin, who dealt with S. Crow.  Titus Canby ran the National Holiday Society, Dr. Frank N. Stein lived in Loudmouth, Wyoming, and they panned for gold in Alaska in “If Anyone Can, Yukon.”  Even rock and roll was made fun of, when they went searching for the missing 18th hole in Scotland, where a monster got poor Angus, his roar was really made by playing a rock and roll record at slow speed.  Anything and everything was fair game in the name of fun, so naturally my favorite line came from Rags, who when asked “what does the T. in Ragland T. tiger stand for?” responded, “Larry, my father couldn’t spell.”  And we all laughed at that one.  Funny plays on words, thought provoking, mixed with history and humor, and not a one selling toys.  But what I wouldn’t give for a set of Crusader Rabbit episodes today.   To the Wayback Sherman....

So maybe a sail back with Captain Peter “Wrong way” Peachfuzz is order.  A look at names from the Bible.  Nebuchadnezzar, what other name has two z’s?  Ozzie?  Who names their kids Methusaleah any more?  Live long and prosper, Mr. Spock.  Mushi, Puah, and Nepheg, you wonder how many kids at PS 31 in Jerusalem made fun of them.  We had a dog named Ichabod, whose Bible reference predated Ichabod Crane of the Headless Horseman story by thousands of years.  Zebadiah, son of Asahel, brother of Joab.  Nergalsharezar the Rab-Mag....all names that could be found on any Saturday morning cartoon show in Jesus’ time.  Yet they all mean something to those who named them, and you wonder how many were named by a father like Rags had who couldn’t spell.  Reminds of a friend I knew named AB, the first two letters of the alphabet.  They couldn’t spell....But there are names, and there are names, with one above all names.  Jesus.  Just the mention of the name and even atheists know who we are talking about.  Demons flee at the sound of it, and souls are set free in it.  From the Hebrew it is comprised of two meanings, that when put together means God will deliver his people.  Yet the Jews are blinded by it, and even avoid the New Testament, despite the humble origins.  But to those that believe, it means life, and life abundantly.

And when Christ is added, meaning the anointed, we see him as the one sent from God to be our deliverer, the anointed one.  Name above all names.  But it is important to realize that he was anointed by God, and not by man.  Where we may name kids today after Biblical names, only Jesus Christ was anointed by God, the unique son, unlike no other.  He is the only one who is prophesied of, who was with God in the beginning, and was and is God.  Who died for our sins while we were yet sinners, who rose again so we can too.  So much and so much more in just one name...yet many deny him.  Taking it in vain, while he asks “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.”  But maybe the gospel foretold in Genesis 5 tells it best, reading the geneology of the fore fathers and how they tell of Jesus.  Of course it is just a coincidence it all points to Jesus.....yeah right.

Hebrew English
Adam Man
Seth Appointed
Enosh Mortal
Kenan Sorrow;
Mahalalel The Blessed God
Jared Shall come down
Enoch Teaching
Methuselah His death shall bring
Lamech The Despairing
Noah Rest, or comfort.

A man appointed to sorrows, blessed God who came down to teach, his death will be despairing , but will bring us peace.  Rest and comfort.  God made mortal.  So we can be made immortal.

Life has come along way from those Saturday morning shows, sad too many have fallen away.  But Jesus is the way back, the original Wayback Machine.  He forgives, and even if your father couldn’t spell,  he knows just who you are.  He knows your name.  Count Kook may have put the wrong brain in Milton, but God put his spirit in Jesus, and offers it to you today.  Good deeds done daily, special rates on holidays and Sundays.  Today is the day of salvation....he’s “comin’ Beany Boy...”  he’s comin’.  And to him there is no word as quit!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com