just leave the tip on the table

My wife jokes after a good dinner, a common occurrence around here, “just leave the tip on the table.”  She could have retired if we paid her what her meals were worth, but sad to say the only tips we gave her were verbal ones.  Tips on what bike to ride, tips on where to ride, and tips on what to do this weekend.  Tips offered jokingly but well intentioned, as I was usually a key component in them.  But she really earned a real tip, for her cooking and baking gather rave reviews.  But things were not always so, our first Thanksgiving had the giblets still in the bag, left inside the turkey.  Learning to cook with a microwave 37 years ago was still a new science.  Her first fried chicken was so tough we kept microwaving it more, it didn’t look done, why follow the directions.  And we almost got a hockey puck for dinner.  Fortunately cooler heads prevailed and out we went to eat.  It’s always good to have a back up plan.  But within a few months she mastered cooking, with baking her specialty.  And today she has her own recipes, with one ingredient in common-CHOCOLATE!  With the exception of her blueberry muffins, we have peanut butter chocolate chips, oatmeal chocolate chips, chocolate chocolate chips, and chocolate bars strategically hidden in the cabinets.  Take any recipe, add “add chocolate,” and it can be found in her kitchen.  And I have for our entire marriage obeyed one of the three great rules, of thou shalt not.  Do not tell the cook how to cook!  And it shows on me!

But waiters are hard working people, and underpaid, and under tipped also.  How many old waitresses do you see any more?  The attrition rate is high, as when we go out to eat we expect more than at home.  Chocolate optional.  And with fast food to be ordered at the window, then your number called, waiters are a dying breed.  The next generation will probably listen to their grandparents tell of “when we used to order at the table...”   And leaving a tip will have gone away also, except for a jar at the register for change from your $20.  Change, not scrip.  Always less than a dollar. 

When working for Mercedes Benz their were remnants of a class of people who were used to tipping.  Not to get better service, but because they appreciated it.  And wanted to acknowledge it.  And at Christmas, it was more than cash.  Gift certificates to restaurants, concert tickets, expensive wine, and things that expressed how much they appreciated your service.  I was the man who took care of their car, just as they had a hairdresser, favorite maitre’d, and nanny.  I was their go to guy for their car, and that was a good thing.  But things were changing, and no one tips anymore.  But they sure will complain...We no longer have servants who serve us, but teen agers who grunt, who sometimes show no respect, in their defense many aren’t shown respect either, and in a country that is service oriented, service is lacking.  We should have seen it coming with the advent of penny trays by the register years ago...somehow I never thought of it as a tip tray as some are today.

The other two thou shalt nots are don’t tell your barber how to cut your hair, and don’t tell your mechanic how to fix your motorcycle.  But it is OK to tip them, and I still do.  Mickey gets anything chocolate from Theresa, and my barber always gets a tip.  Because I appreciate their work.  And I want them to know it.  Maybe I should start leaving a tip on the table at home....or more chocolate.

So these often unappreciated servants if you will, have certain characteristics.  Servants don’t get to ask when, where, how, why, or to who, they just serve.  Many in the church get the wrong idea about Jesus, we are told he took the form of a man, even though he was God, to serve.  They expect him to be the genie in the lamp, and never consider how he is setting an example for us of servitude.  Few think of servants when they think of God, but Jesus came to serve.  And salvation was the main course, he came to save a dying world, and reunite us with his father in heaven.  Now don’t you think that deserves a tip or two?  And he expects us to give, some may tithe and give 10% grudgingly, he is more excited about a widow, unknown but to him, that gave her all.  An example set by him, as he gave it all, and all to him we owe.  And while we begrudgingly give 15% to a waiter, God only expects 10%.  But really he wants is us to give, from the heart.  A form of worship, a sacrifice.  We are told to give hilariously, opening our pockets as the spirit beckons.  Not only for good, but for bad service too.  Sadly I see too many Christians who will preach at a waiter, then stiff them on their tip.  Some representative of Jesus huh?  But giving involves more than money, it means of yourself.  Your time, your resources, your physical labor.  And we find that when we give, we receive.  But if you give looking for something you don’t get it.  And too many don’t get it, and get miserable, and quit giving.  And wonder why they aren’t blessed?  Missing blessings, maybe start giving without being asked.  Matthew 25 tells of feeding the hungry, giving water to the thirsty, clothing the naked, and visiting those in jail or who are sick.  Sometimes the best tips have no table to leave them on, so leave them on their heart.

So what does a servant do, he serves.  And we get to serve a mighty God, who saved us by grace.  It is free, a gift, maybe that is why so many rob God.  No appreciation for what Jesus did for them.  But we can pass on what Jesus did for us in love to others.  Go the extra mile, give until it hurts, then give again.  Many times I have given when I could least afford it, and finding out I could not afford to not leave tip.  Or to give.  Or to serve.  So maybe it’s brownies, or a little extra money on the table.  Maybe it is staying late and giving someone a ride.  Maybe sitting with a homeless person and buying a meal, and eating with them.  It is in giving that we receive, and that we see a side of Christ we don’t see if we are stingy.  For giving tells of the heart condition, more than words.  And if you truly let God be your provider, you will always have in abundance.  What you need.  When you need it.

So don’t look for a table to leave the tip on, look for opportunities to give.  Jesus went looking for you and look what he has given us.  So much for so little.  And in giving you may show how God loves to give to a lost man.  Who has always given in church, but never received anything in return.  Give, the second syllable of forgive.  Maybe the best thing that will ever happen to you, being forgiven.  Now that’s a tip that will fit on any table.

And the most priceless tip is Jesus.  And his love.  If you aren’t giving that, you are missing out.  Servants are the hardest working people out there, recognize one today.  Who knows, you may be the Bible God chose for them to read today.  Cold milk with a warm brownie.  An extra cookie, the last piece of meatloaf.  Give it up for Jesus, he gave it up for you.  A tip we cannot afford to pass up.  Just don’t leave it only on the table.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

travel times

Talk to 10 different touring riders and you will get 10 different interpretations of touring.  When to leave, how to pack, route to take, and bike to ride.  Whether to ride in a group or ride alone.  Each one different, each one right, but none wrong.  Each unique, but somehow all alike.  I have friends who must travel in groups, I refer to it as crowd riding, and stop every 50 miles.  To me that is not riding.  and a 200 mile day takes 8 hours, for which they start at 6 in the morning, arrive in mid afternoon, and hang around all day, when you can and should be riding.  Recently I heard of a couple leaving at midnight to avoid LA traffic, rookies and not thinking that the freeways are shut down at night for construction, and they just added confusion to their trip.  And if all goes well, will arrive at their city of destination at rush hour.  Not seeing anything, arriving early, and still too early to check into their motel.  Maybe there is something to effective planning after all.  I have found myself over the years preferring to ride alone, just Theresa and I, be up and out by 9, after any rush hour traffic, ride 100 miles then eat breakfast.  Ride all day in sunlight, and arrive before dark sets in.  And always having an alternate route just in case, with the just in case often times leading to great roads not planned for.  Works for us....

Years ago I led a group of friends from New Mexico to San Diego for lunch, their first long ride over 4 days.  When they tried to duplicate it the next year, they had it down to even 15 minute breaks, time to start, time to stop, time to eat, and time to ride in between.  I declined, don’t we ride to get away from that type of schedule?  Yet too many don’t enjoy the freedom in riding or of it.  At the other end was our first Torches Across America ride, with people we had never ridden with before.  We met each night, planned a route to that night’s destination, and figured gas stops based on the smallest tank.  We figured speeds for freeways differently than for back roads, and would split up as needed for each riders type of riding.  We all got along, had a great time, lost no one, and this is the only group of men I would ever ride with again.  Sadly many are gone, but this group of 5 that swelled to 10 left a great impression on me.  They knew how to ride, made no excuses, and dealt with problems as they occurred.  Although we were all skilled long distance riders, on bikes from 500cc to 1800cc, V-twin to inline 3, we all had one common thread-courtesy.  We discussed where to eat, speed, and left communication open, including flexibility of routes.  We enjoyed the ride and each others company for over 3000 miles, with no hassles.  All rides should be so good....

Time zones can present another problem, as riding east to west you change time.  I have trouble losing the hour, only 60 minutes, but still get messed up.  But I like gaining the extra hour coming back, many times using it to sleep in, or ride longer into the setting sun.  Arriving early sometimes and taking in the local sights, or detours along the way.  But my riding has changed over the years, as I take the attitude to stop when I see something I want to, because I may never get back.  I used to take notes for a return trip, 12 trips coast to coast allowed for that, but as I travel less, and fewer miles, I make every mile count.  Still out by 9, still riding to breakfast, still arriving by dark, just seeing more along the way.  Or less as the roads I ride are as far from freeways as I can get.  A 100 mile distance can turn into a 400 mile day like one day in Florida.  Arriving where we planned, just riding more.  Riding is not meant to be a straight line to your destination, it is about the roads travelled to get there, and we all ride different, some by exit number, some by county road number, some by local road name like River Road, or Golden Trail.  For it is the ride that is life, and life is for the living like my friend Ken tells me.  Every ride is different, and should be.  So I ride while others sleep, and sleep while others are out trying to beat the traffic.  In all cases picking the right roads will say a lot about how you ride, and why.  I rather arrive with a tired wrist from riding all day on back roads than bragging about setting my cruise and making good time with great gas mileage.  You tell me, who had a better ride?  More stories to tell?  who would you rather ride with? Those stuck in LA traffic at midnight?  While I sleep and dream of the next day....

Now there are many roads to heaven, but only one way to get there-Jesus Christ.  God gives us the perfect destination, the way to get there, and we choose the roads to travel.  Some stay within boundaries of churches or denominations, safe and secure that will make it, but have no testimonies.  Some just live life, figuring what ever God is going to do he will, a fatalist approach.  So why do they pray?  I like to plan my rides with God involved, and leave room for options.  Over the years many rides have gotten better because we were flexible and changed plans.  Some took us places we had never heard of, meals we hadn’t eaten, and met people we would have missed otherwise.  Leaving Willie’s home outside of Nashville, we took 2 hours of back roads to get 35 miles from him.  Great riding.  When getting gas, a man saw our bike, asked where we were going, and told us about some great detours in Georgia.  And also about a great place for BBQ in Birmingham.   When we found the place closed due to fire, the local Triumph store turned us on to The Golden Rule, my favorite BBQ place in the US of A, and we have BBQed it across it.  God had all this planned, freeway exits would have left us without meeting people, seeing things, and missing a great meal. Bring on the Brunswick stew!  Yet so many live inside the box with God, never seeing all he has.  I may be selfish, but I want all God ahs to offer, and for you too!  And God loves to give and bless-so let him!  Include him on all your rides, from planning to arriving, and see as things take on a different flavor.  Some offer schedules, God has testimonies planned for you to share. 

Paul tells us how God offers us truth in 2 Corinthians.  Truth to set us free to guide us, and to allow us to be flexible in the spirit.  To change course without getting upset, and to find blessings where we thought no blessings could be.  The truth of Jesus is exciting and alive, and when we just don’t study it, but get out and live it, we see sides of God many only read about, dream about, or dream of, but thought they could never experience.  While some bear fruit, others read all about it.  It is like Doug sharing about Israel, that was nice.  Even showed a map.  Then showed pictures, and the relationship grew, and when I saw him in the pictures, it was real.  Not read about, but done.  His story to share.  So as yourself, you may be going to heaven, that’s great, but are you getting all you can from the ride?  Is your life full of chain restaurants, freeway exits, and LA in the dark? Didn’t Jesus take us from darkness into light?

When you come into the truth of Jesus Christ life becomes exciting.  And the closer you ride with him the more exciting.  The more memories, the more testimonies.  I like it when I see a show on TV and I can say “I’ve been there.”  It makes me want to ride more.  Same with testimonies, when I hear them and can relate, I want to hear more. I want to be in them,  I don’t want to hear only, I want to be in the pictures.  We still have many travel times ahead of us, many roads to return to, many we haven’t ridden yet.  Same with God, so much of him to explore and to get to know better.  Now is the best time, so plan on him right now.  Knowing God means knowing truth, and truth sets us free.  Ditch the GPS, tune into the spirit, and ride like you never have before.  Been there, done that, have the t-shirt only makes me want more.  The road of Jesus is calling, will you answer the call?  We will get to heaven only in Jesus, we can ride with him now and enjoy the ride.  Destination heaven-how you get there is up to you.  Your best rides and testimonies are yet to come.  Get out and make them.  We are not all the same except in Christ where we can be the individual we want to be.  Unique yet the same in Christ.  Where sport bikes ride with cruisers, and displacement doesn’t matter.  In the spirit, the best way to live and ride.  Let God’s truth set you free today.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

squeeze the sponge and the water runs out

I hope you all had a great Labor Day Weekend, I did.  But how many know what Labor Day is?  Or was created for?  To make a long story short, although it is a very good long story, it was created to honor those that work in American factories.  Based upon most factories before the Civil War being in the north, the south suffered from heavy taxes on items shipped into their ports, they manufactured very little.  The grousing continued for over 20 years after and when Grover Cleveland sent troops to break up a riot near Chicago in the Pullman Plant, they made high end rail cars, under pressure of reelection he promised the workers a day of their own to have off, this long before 3 day weekends were formed to accommodate us.  And so Labor Day was born to honor workers, and today 130 years later we celebrate the day off, but not the labor.  Along with many other holidays, it is a three day weekend to party, but not to remember.  Which is what holidays were set up for, to remember an event or person.  Now the event is about the person of us....and we take great labors to see we enjoy it. 

Travelling across America we see the remnants of the American worker.  Detroit once the Motor City is now in ruin.  So are many factory towns in the south where towels and sheets were once made.  No more shoes come out of New England, and no furniture from the midwest.  Next time you see a train and notice it all containers, they are filled with goods from China, where once box cars moved American made goods, now we are an importer and consume non-USA goods.  Shipped in containers made in Korea.  In many cases we have no choice, even Walmart who at one time bragged on its American made inventory, now it is hard to find anything made here in their stores.  And we complain about the lower quality, but not the lower price.  We have learned the hard way that if you squeeze the sponge the water will run out, and we have learned to live with a dry sponge.  That water was the life blood of America, the worker, who today is dwindling in numbers.  No more great factories, or factory towns that once dotted the landscape, now we have mega warehouses filled with foreign goods.  We wanted less expensive and we got it, at a price, one we found out was too high to pay. And to many of us we remember with pride when Made In America meant something.  When Japanese goods were tinny, and products from overseas cheesy.  When shoes were made and designed by Americans for Americans, and the rest of the world wanted them.  That label meant a lot to them too.  Shirts and pants hand sewn in the Carolinas or Pennsylvania.  Cars were built in Detroit, and ruled the world.  We could afford the best, because we would not settle for anything less, but soon we began to settle for less.  The price became the bottom line, and when the bottom line got so low we could trip over it, we fell and fell hard.  Looking up for a hand up, instead we got a hand out.  But still in our pockets.  All the water had been squeezed from the sponge, and we were left with no source to renew it.  For water brings life, and we were dry.  Remember that as you get in your Mexican made Chevy, wearing Rebooks made in South Korea, wearing a shirt made in Viet Nam, and listen to a radio made in India.  Wine no longer comes from France in a bottle, but in a box from New Jersey, expensive burgers from Japan, and Mexican food has replaced the hamburger as fast food’s favorite.  We once had a Miss America Pageant, it too is gone, and so no wonder I miss America.  Give me an American made product, made by real Americans, with instructions in English.  Yet the American worker has been reduced to immigrant status, like the man applying for a job at a 7-11.  When asked if he speaks any foreign languages replies “English.”  We all want more for less, what we get is a lot less for a lot more.

Works with God too.  We want all we can get from God, and God loves to bless.  So he sent Jesus to make the way back to him, unique in all religions worldwide.  In Christianity God reaches down, we don’t have to work our way back hopelessly.  And it is by his spirit we are called.  Often referred to as water in the Bible, the spirit brings life and joy.  Peace and patience.  Yet many churches will emphasize Jesus, yet let you on your own to figure it out.  “Read your Bible, go out and do something for God,” and when you fail on your own you get discouraged.  You look elsewhere, and find a cheaper imitation of the gospel.  One that has been imported from hell, and doesn’t have room for the spirit in its philosophy.  You have replaced God in the equation, and the goods you put out do not reflect God, but your own ways.  Without the spirit guiding you, something else does.  Read the New Testament, Jesus tells us he will leave a helper until he returns, the Holy Spirit.  That even he didn’t do what he wanted, but only what his father in heaven wanted.  We are saved by his spirit that called us, and guided by it when we are saved.  The Holy Spirit is a person, a real person.  Yet after we accept Jesus, who we were led to by the spirit, we neglect that very same spirit.  And import other beliefs, ideas, and religions not made in heaven.  Some look good, even feel good.  But soon the patina of evil shows and we wished we had spent wiser.  But yet the same spirit we denied welcomes us back and forgives.  Points again to Jesus, who gives advice direct form our heavenly father.  Where the spirit of the Lord is there is liberty.  To be all you can be, really to be all you can be in Christ.  We need to go back to what made us great, and it was Jesus who took us from sin to grace.  From lost to found.  The spirit is the water that the sponge is lacking today, and we need to dip into it and become useful again.  Our lives need to be about Jesus, not us.  We need to celebrate what he has done, not what we have attempted to do.  We cannot save ourselves.  We need Jesus.  We need the refreshing water of the spirit to make us new again.  To give us life.  Instead we are offered days off, only to return to the same old drudgery the next day.  

We need to back to when our song sang out “our country tis of thee,”  not because of me.  Only in the spirit will we know the way.  Will we know the way Jesus.  And will we be reunited with a loving father who sent his only son.  Who labored long for us.  Today celebrate what Jesus has done, who never takes a day off.  We need to from work, but never should from Jesus.  Seek the spirit and the follow it to joy and peace.  Know comfort among the pain and suffering.  Be reunited to goods made in heaven, by the God who created them.  Celebrate the labor of love he sent called Jesus, and know that no amount of hard work can replace the free gift he offers.  Dip your sponge into the fountain of life, and find all you ever wanted and needed at a price you can afford.  The gospel is free and simple so we can afford it.  It is by the spirit that we can read the Bible and know the mysteries of Christ.  Otherwise it is like the instructions of my garage door opener made in Malaysia, with pictures but no words of instruction.  You guess....life is not to be guessed about.  You can know the truth and be set free....there are no uses for a dry sponge.  No matter where it was made.  But a wet one is welcome everywhere a mess is made.  Where clean up is needed. Jesus makes all things good again.  By his spirit.  Dip your life into him today.  Be fully immersed in and by his spirit.  His labor of love is more than for a day.  Why settle for a day when you can have eternity?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

doing something once twice

At this stage in life I don’t always remember my first, and I have trouble remembering my last.  Some things that used to be so important just aren’t anymore, at least to me, so if I feign interest don’t take it personal, because it isn’t intended to be.  Sometimes I just don’t care, and sometimes I just don’t care to remember.  Watching the endless stream of commercials on TV promising you that only they can find your prefect match for you, I am glad that after 37 years of marriage and counting that I don’t have to date.  Or want to.  How sad to be over 50 and dating again, going through all the dating and getting to know you rituals.  I can’t remember my first date, or my last, but I do remember many in between.  Funny how you don’t remember the mundane ones, but the good ones stand out, and the worst ones haunt you.  And for some reason, my first junior high school dance still haunts me, it was like a first date, so although many facts have faded, the scene still sticks in my mind.  Or somewhere.....

It was 8th grade, the first year you were allowed to look at girls and not be afraid to get cooties.  Skirts and sweaters were popular, and some girls were beginning to fill them out in all the right places.  And one caught my eye...so we agreed to meet at the afterschool dance.  Not a date, but a see you there....OK a date.  But true to form, it was all boys on one side, the girls on the other, with only the coolest and most mature out dancing.  Alone.  The rest of us huddled in fear of having to dance.  While I could play sports before a crowd, the thought of being one on one with a girl freaked me out.  I was later to find out I was not the only one.   So secretly making up my own approach lines, and remembering how words come out either slurred or stuttered when facing the enemy, I finally got up the courage to go over and ask her to dance.  Actually I was really pushed and taunted, although I did hold out for half the dance.  By then my cowardice was so evident, concealed by pride, but still scared.  So between songs I walked over to the other side, perhaps the longest walk in my teen years, muttering my cool opening line to myself.  Getting more nervous as I got closer, she knew I was coming, as her friends were all huddling around her and giggling-watching my approach.  My confidence was waning, when suddenly a new thought crept into my mind, and sheer horror set in.  What if she said yes?  What if I had to dance with her?  I had never danced before!  And passing the point of no return, my advance was noted and evident.  So when in earshot, within a couple of feet, I mumbled something sophisticated and mature like “wanna dance?”  And before I finished she said “yes,” the music started and the misery set in.  A high and a  low all at once.  No one told me the teen years would be so tough!  But we danced, I must have looked like hopping barefoot on hot coals, the music ended, and went into a slow song.  And I dance again...embracing a girl other than my aunt or mother.  And she embraced back!  Maybe this dance thing wasn’t as bad as I made it out to be, and after the song ended, we sat and talked.  My dancing was over, I was wet with sweat, barely putting words together to form a sentence, but I had done it.  Right in front of my friends, her friends, God and everybody.  I had danced, with a girl and survived!  She would later admit she was just as scared...And just that memory will always aid in keeping my marriage strong.  I never want to go through that again! 

Sharing Christ can be like that first dance.  You are all practiced up, got it all together, then the words don’t come out right.  The conversation becomes all about you, because your approach although about Jesus is all about you.  Face it, it is.  And all the coaching and motivation that comes from your pastor or friends won’t help.  It needs to come naturally, to be spirit led and spirit based.  The holy spirit.  I have watched skilled speakers get up in front of believing crowds and blow it, so afraid they will say something wrong.  Worrying if not perfect they will be laughed at.  And hoping their presentation is so good no one will ask questions.  Just the opposite of being in the spirit.  I know a couple who practices their presentations, and uses tracts.  I don’t.  And they get on my case about me not knowing or being prepared to witness.  I try to be a witness, it is God’s job to fill me, mine to let him.  His to guide, mine to obey.  Yet I have been persecuted on more than one occasion for not knowing the four spiritual laws.  Law vs. the spirit, isn’t there a conflict?  And they get mad.  The Romans Road?   In Rome isn’t it?  And yet because I try to follow the spirit vs. a rote set of presentations, I need help.  Now I don’t deny the needing help, but when I do the spirit is willing.  No matter how weak the flesh.  In fact the weaker I am, the stronger the spirit.  Scriptural even. 

So I find getting to know a person, learning to earn the right to share Jesus is far better.  If I truly walk in Christ, my attitudes and actions will portray him better.  I am not looking for an argument as some do, and walk away with an I showed them attitude.  I genuinely am concerned for their salvation, so I go in love. Remembering the whole time my first dance.  And go anyway.

And so I find comfort in doing something once twice.  Getting married.  Once twice, my first and only.  And coming to Jesus once twice.  My first and only.  I am getting better at knowing what to say, even better at what not to say.  Listening before giving an answer, even asking questions so I can answer better.  But when I let God lead, I find his words come out, and amazing me.  And they are effective, more than any plan I may have hatched.  But still I am least prepared to ask them to turn to Jesus.  For it is between them and God only.  Not an emotional outburst or going forward after a bad time.  It is strictly spiritual, and only God will know so the person does too.  Don’t ever rush to judgment or to prayer-let God lead.  And what if they say yes?  Again let the spirit lead.  And be ready to listen again.  God will lead.  And then do what most don’t, listen some more and follow up.  For a new convert is most susceptible.  Get them a Bible, pray with them, and follow up.  Disciple them, for it is all new to them, and may be all new to you too.  No amount of rehearsal will ever substitute for the holy spirit’s guiding. 

God will bring them along as he does us.  Daily.  And we each grow at different rates.  So be led by the spirit, and avoid anxious moments.  Let God be God, he has more experience than you, and his job is salvation.  You just get to be the messenger and see lives changed.  You get to be blessed passing on the gift of Jesus to others.  And it works best outside of church, where there are no pressures to perform.  So come to Jesus once twice.  For a first and last time.  Let him fill in the blanks.  Get off walking in the spirit today, and maybe for the first time today if saved.  How will you know you are in the spirit?  Experience tells me I know when I am not.  And others will tell you too.  But you’ll know, it is that personal.  Being a witness for Christ should never be like my first dance experience.  The spirit led you to him, now let him do it for others.  And when he lets you be a part of it, it is better than that first slow dance.  My first 8th grade girl friend was just waiting to be asked.  You’ll know when to ask no matter how long the walk across the gym floor.  You will remember your first and last love, make sure you don’t forget about Jesus in between either.  We will spend most of our lives in the in between times, between dances.   A lesson on life and sophistication from one who should know, but is still learning. The destination should always be more important than the delivery.  It’s all about Jesus anyway, right?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

one morning at Alan's

I met Alan almost 30 years ago when we moved to San Diego and I was an outside salesman.  He was one of my accounts, selling high end cars as investments.  He had done very well as an investment counselor, but due to health and hassle got out of it.  He went to selling cars as an investment, one of his loves, and soon became internationally known and recognized as a leader.  Trade papers from automotive to financial to the Wall Street Journal would contact him on the market, and he always obliged.  He only sold fine cars, high end cars mostly with a verifiable history.  I happened to be there one morning when a 1 of 2 racing Ferraris was unloaded.  Ash, one of his associates, had supposedly raced one back in Australia in the 1950’s, he reached inside and pulling back some wires, pulled out some papers he had folded and hid there some 35 years ago!  Now that certification!  His other associate was Bill, who had raced with Paul Newman, that Paul Newman.  As a racing partner he was friends with Paul, and through contacts many would invest their money in cars with Alan.  Many times some cars would trade hands, and not leave the showroom, but instantly being put up for sale again as the market was hot.  Original Cobras, open wheel race cars, Al Holbert’s Sebring winning Porsche-such was the inventory at Alan’s.  All verifiable. 

But as he grew, so did the value of the cars, and he bought a building and turned it into a fortress.  A rather high end museum type fortress.  With security and limited access, he still kept the shop in a corner.  He only sold cars, restoring them tied up money and inventory, but he kept that small shop, maybe the best supplied one in San Diego with a restoration expert on hand.  Just in case....which I kept supplied with parts and shop supplies.  I always stopped to visit with him when leaving, he always wanted me to make sure he had everything he needed.  He was top drawer all the way, first class among an industry where honesty and integrity were ill fits.  Alan was both, high integrity with honesty.  A refreshing man to work with.

But as high end as he was, there was a side to him not many knew about.  He had hired James, one of the first AIDS victims, gave him a BMW 2002 to restore at the shop, and hired him to take care of the inventory, aka keep the cars clean and the batteries charged.  I got to know James right before he died, and if not for Alan he would have died on the streets.  But Alan and I became cordial friends, he loved Theresa’s fudge, telling everyone “it is just like my mother’s” and little gestures of friendship were important to him.  Money didn’t impress him, he paid cash for a $2 million dollar  home on Point Loma on the water, and his office was like the presidents of a major company.  He drove a  365GT/B Ferrari with “VOTEGOP” personalized plates as his daily driver, and all seemed well.  But the pressures were growing again, and that’s where I met with him one morning.

Checking in with him after a call one morning, he seemed down.  He kept some old file cabinets in his suite/office, and one had an ichtus fish on it, the sign Christians used 2000 years ago.  The same trendy one still seen today.  As I sat and listened, I saw inside the man, a man who loved his church, who gave without hesitation.  Who when a problem came up didn’t need to be asked, he gave.  But as we talked it was evident Jesus was missing.  So we talked, he asked I answered for about two hours.  The phones suspiciously quiet, we sat and talked about Jesus.  Finally I had to go and asked him if we could pray, and he gave me a puzzled look.  “We can do that?  You aren’t a priest.”  And I assured him it was scriptural, I did and do often and everyday.  I suggested we sit on the hearth by the fire place and we prayed.  A very gentle prayer, and I saw this man open up to Jesus.  This mover and shaker moved by the Holy Spirit.  We shook hands, I left....God had changed both of us.

When working with the poor and homeless, I emphasize being rich does not guarantee you hell, just as being poor doesn’t guarantee you heaven.  Jesus is the only way, his words are yes and amen when he calls you.  And since God is no respecter of persons, no title, position, financial or social position, or even what you ride impresses him.  All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God, so God sent Jesus to reunite us, to be the way back to a relationship with him.  Because he loved the world, he gave his only son, his most prized possession.  And all he wants is you.  Is that too much to ask?  You see Alan had the religion part down, and he did good things as the church taught him.  But they fell short of Jesus, and because of that he never knew him.  Until God sent me that morning.  To answer questions, to share my testimony, to listen, and to love.  Alan had it all to the world, all except the peace only Jesus can provide.  He had all the success in the world, and many Christian attributes, he just didn’t have Jesus.  We prayed, I don’t know his heart, but God does.  And God loves him, and so do I. 

One morning at Alan’s changed his life, like one night running on the beach in Santa Monica did for me.  When someone urged by the holy spirit shared Jesus with me.  I needed him, I just didn’t know it.  And you do too, and now you know.  Caught in religion, but still lacking something?  Reading the Bible but not being filled?  Overcome by emotions and stress?  Are you the dog the tail is wagging?  Do you have it all yet have nothing?  You need Jesus, and can be saved right now.  Turn to him as you are, admit to sin and admit you need him.  Ask him to forgive you and let the spirit of God make you whole.  Give you worth and value.  You can be saved and become a child of God today.  I was unprepared for Alan that morning, God wasn’t.  The spirit was willing, and even in my weak flesh he moved on us.  Life is not about us, but all about Jesus, and when we give our life to him we have life.  Everlasting.  Forever.  Which is a long, long time.  Alan was a Lazarus stepped over although he was rich.  How many Lazaruses do you step over?  Rich or poor we all need Jesus.  One morning at Alan’s I will never forget.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

because I have one and you don't

Over the years I have won many awards and trophies from winning contests.  Many were from first place, but some were to win the prize I wanted.  Which surprised and sometimes disappointed my superiors, but I was going after the prize, where I finished gave me bragging rights, the prize gave me what I really wanted. I had won trips to Cancun, custom cowboy hats, expensive dinners, and shopping sprees. I had a shelf in my office and wall filled with trophies and plaques, and one day a few years ago I threw them all out.   They really meant nothing to me, except for two trophies I keep.  In a day where trophies are no longer handed out for winning, but for just competing, these two have a special meaning.  To me they represent I have one and you don’t, and a sweet and ironic revenge among my peers.  They may gather dust but the memory of them is still fresh.

Back in 2003 and 2004 Calvary Chapel of the Canyons in Silverado had a Bikerfest, a time for Christian bikers to get together and for non-Christian bikers to see we are not all Bible thumper goodie two shoes.  But also to see that underneath all the leather and denim beats a heart of love.  Except when it came to the bike competition.  There were many classes, mostly dominated by different Harley related classes, such as Best Chopper, Best custom, least oil leaking, able to move under its own power, and it seemed many were really after the trophy.  They wanted to win, to show off, “because I have one and you don’t,” a silent but apparent theme. But there were also categories for best sport bike, best Japanese cruiser, and best European.  The first year we rode together on my Sprint RS, European as it is made in England.  A quick lesson in geography for some.  When they called for European bikes to stage, I was among leaking Nortons, an old BSA that was a parts bike and didn’t know it, and some Ducatis, which were not yet the testosterone treatment for yuppies with more money than riding ability.  And among them me.  Who could care less, but entered anyway, one club member asking “Triumph is English right?”  Yes, great bikes still come from there. just as not all Harleys are made in the US of A , or Hondas in Japan.  So I entered, and later they called my name, I had won.  I got a trophy!  First place!  And with no place to carry it, I let one of my Harley friends carry it for me.  They had the trophy to carry, I had the victory.  And sweet it was, for I was so sick of lifestyle Harley riders thinking their bike was the best, the most unique, and only a Harley could a biker own.  My triumph that day was a Triumph, reminding them you are what  you ride.  And suddenly they thought it was cool to own one, not for themselves, but to know the guy who won a trophy with one. 

The next year it was on my 2002 Bonneville.  Which the larger displacement egos used to call a moped.  Until they came off their side stands, their maximum lean angle, and where even the fastest Harley was still too slow.  The jokes didn’t bother me, I can hold my own with Harley jokes, as well as Honda jokes, BSA, Moto Guzzi, and any other bike.  Only the Harley folk took it serious, as if any reference in jest was a sin punishable by having to ride one.  But when Euro bikes were called again, I showed up, again not caring, at least a little, the victory fresh in my mind from last year.  And again I won, or the Bonneville did.  Something about a thing of beauty with Triumph on the tank that attracts people.  Go to any Harley meet on it and it gathers attention from the old timers who remember them and had one.  So this victory was for them and me!  With some nay sayers telling me it wasn’t fair I had won two years in a row, what they meant was they hadn’t.  But would again carry my trophy for me.  I had a brief moment of The Wild One in me where I thought of strapping it to my headlight ala Johnny style, but better to let my friends enjoy their joy of defeat with my agony of victory.  Again I won, they didn’t.  And so I keep these two trophies, won by me, or shall I say really the bikes I ride.  And today Theresa rides the trophy winning Bonneville, you may have a trophy wife, I have both.  And the trophy to prove it!

Last year we went through a study at church “Jesus+nothing=everything.”  More than catchy words, it is true.  When you have Jesus you have it all.  There is nothing you can add to the gospel to get your salvation or to assure it.  All you need is Jesus.  No Jesus and membership, or tithes, or acts of bravery, nor acts of behaving.  No keeping the laws of Moses will get you to heaven, nor will church attendance, Bible studies, or being a missionary.  No trophies or being man of the year.  It doesn’t matter what you ride.  Only Jesus.  The other things are good, but do not save you.  Salvation is a gift that cannot be earned, lest we boast.  Read Ephesians 2 over and over, salvation is a gift.  But not forced on us, we have to accept it, by accepting Jesus.  Only in him is salvation found, no other name.  And we become his trophies, he has bragging rights to us.  “Look at Mike, and how I changed his heart.”  God loves to brag on his children.  Recall one talk between God and Satan about Job?  God bragged on him, and showed Satan his lies mean nothing when the truth is there to see.  He knows our hearts, and how we will react, so he never allows more than we can handle with him.  Without him the devil has bragging rights.  And will use any lies to prove it.  It takes the truth, Jesus to change the heart.  Driven by the spirit, we know Jesus, who is the way back to God his father.  Our father in heaven.  And we can brag because we know him and the sinners don’t.  But unlike my trophies, we don’t brag on ourselves, we brag on Jesus.  We show love, because when the heart changes, so do we.  We want all to have what we have, the love and joy, the peace and patience.  Jesus is the one thing we win that we must share with everyone.  The one prize he was willing to not give up as he went to the cross.  We have bragging rights because he saved us, he has bragging rights because he saved us!  We both win in Jesus!

In life many will win awards and trophies.  Some at the expense of their souls.  The true victory in life is overcoming death.  With a place in heaven to prove it, but leaving us on earth to declare the victory in Jesus.  When he gets the glory, we get the blessings.  So don’t keep him on the shelf, wear him with great joy.  For behind every victory, every soul he saves is a testimony needing to be shared.  To encourage, to forgive, and to let others see his love.  My salvation like many others, not what we set out to win, but like my trophies thrust me into an arena I didn’t expect.  God is like that, he wants us to share testimonies.  In Revelation, John is told to bear witness, to tell what he saw.  Do you share all the trophies of salvation with others?  Or do you claim you won them, not knowing what it took for you to be saved?  In Christ we are all winners!  Not divided by classes, only sin will separate us.  And when it comes down to it, only two classes of people exist to God, the lost and the found.  The saved and the unsaved?  Can your name be found in God’s trophy room he calls the Book of Life?

God has bragging rights to me.  Can you say the same?  Do you know him well enough to brag on what he has done in your life?  Names written on plaques and trophies may mean something, Jesus written on my heart means everything.  Everything I need, nothing I don’t.  All-he includes everything, excludes nothing.  Remember that the next time when the altar you ride and worship won’t start.  Or needs to be pushed.  Or cleaned up after it marked its spot.  Only Jesus saves.  If you are not in his trophy room, become a winner today and be saved.  I’ve won many awards, it was only when Jesus won my heart that I became a winner.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com