if it has a skirt or wheels you can expect trouble, part 2, wheels

On every journey, every ride, there is a point of no return.  Looking back we see the places provided where we could turn around and go back, but kept on going regardless of the outcome.  I had passed that point by a few hundred miles, despite the rain and the cold.  Even to the point of picking up a hitch hiker while filling up along I-80, something I never do, let alone on a motorcycle.  In the rain.  But he insisted, and I gave in, and for an hour he got soaked like me.  I finally let him off, he resisted, I guess he really was going somewhere or being chased, and on I went.  Into Ohio, and looking for gas got off the interstate and got lost.  Only to be led out of a wooded area by a county sheriff, who told me “this is the kind of area people go in and never come out.”  Like I said, past the point of no return.  But on I rode, the sun coming up behind me, blinding me in my mirrors.  Still early, but now dry and cold, a Porsche comes up behind me, then pulls aside of me and wants to race.  I engaged him for awhile, but it was no contest for my R90S.  And at over 100, I ducked behind a truck when I saw the Ohio State Trooper, and he went by, flipping me off, thinking he had won.  An hour later when pulled over by the same trooper, he was handcuffed in the back seat, yelling “that’s the guy, that’s the guy” in reference to me.  I claimed I never saw him before, and the cop let me go, reminding me the speed limit in Ohio is 55, not the 110 mph the Porsche owner had been arrested for.  And on I rode...

Until just outside Columbus I was making time, drying out but cold.  The two jackets I was wearing soaked, and then the second trooper appeared.  I saw him first, so I rode directly over to him in the center median.  As he rolled down the window, I asked him, “I’m lost, is this the way to Dayton?”  As he answered yes, he also wanted to see my license.  He had clocked me at 111, and with no Porsche driver to blame, I told him to help me pull off my glove.  Which he did, my hand stained black, looked like Herman Munster’s with black fingernails, and all shriveled up from the rain.  I was shaking, and he let me off.  Reminding me to drop my speed again to 55.  Which I assured him I would as I struggled to put on my glove.  And rode off, only an hour to my destination. 

I arrived around 9am, in time for breakfast, and I was glad to be there.  After eating with the family, and her mother asking “when are you going to tell him?” a few times, off we went to the lake.  With no sleep, I went sail boating, and was OK all day.  But Ginger was acting aloof, not herself.  Maybe it was me, maybe the ride, maybe nothing.  I would have a bombshell dropped on me by her later that night at dinner.  And find out why her mother kept asking “when are you going to tell him?”  Exhausted physically, that was about to be joined by emotionally too.

Not much is said about the conversation between Noah and his family when God asked him to build the ark.  He was 600 at the time, and faced with the fact he had been given a job from a God you couldn’t see, to gain protection from rain that had never occurred, it must have been tough on them all.  We know that Noah was given a hard time for the 120 years it took to build the ark, but what his wife.  I can hear the gossip, “Hey Mrs. N, how’s the weather today? Going boating?”  Or the things not said to her face, and how even her closest friends may have left her under pressure.  How would you feel if your daughter came home and wanted to date one of his sons?  “No way, that old man is nuts.  So are his kids and wife.  You stay away, I forbid you.”  But yet three women did, and married into Noah’s family, and would join him on the ark.  How sad that his in-laws came so close, they were family, but rejected his message.  And when the rains came, it was too late. 

Twelve men, who came under fire for following Jesus, and would ultimately be martyred stayed loyal.  One didn’t, and often he seems to be remembered most.  How often we talk of those who died and had rejected Jesus, but fail to rejoice about those who are saved and follow him.  How many times have we been asked by others when dealing with a lost friend “when are you going to tell him?” My experience is to let the spirit guide me, but others tend to rush in, Bible in one hand and a Jesus stick in the other, wanting to beat them into salvation.  When we neglect or are taught improperly to be that witness for others to see Jesus in.  To show love, compassion, respect, and courtesy.  To be light and salt, yet many come at us with their high beams on blinding us, or dumping salt on our wounds.  Remember it wasn’t raining when Noah built the ark, don’t wait until it is too late.  We all must know at least one person who needs love and affection? 

But yet Judas is remembered even more, or rather his death is.  How many know of how the other 11 died?  10?  Even one?  But yet we all know how Jesus died, and for what.  Shouldn’t that be enough to want to share his love with others, the same love that changed you?  It may be as close as the in-laws of Noah, who rejected God, don’t you.  And love on your wife and kids too, don’t preach at them.  There is a reason they stray, don’t you be it.  But be there when they fall, and the rains are knocking at the door.  Do not block them out.  Jesus knocks not be let in, but because he was locked out of the church.  And he threw up because he was sickened by it.  But yet he knocks today...

Skirts and wheels come in all shapes and sizes.  Tomorrow find out what Ginger was going to tell me, and how it affected my life.  My walk, and my ride.  I had escaped getting ticketed for riding over 100 mph twice, would I again?  Would I even be so foolish?  Would I ever get any sleep?  Would I get on the ark or make fun of it?  Would you?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

if it has a skirt or wheels it will give you trouble, skirts part 1

Her name was Ginger, and the daughter of the best friend of my mother in high school.  We were all meeting back at my cousin’s wedding in Pennsylvania, and they were catching up after many years, of course bragging on who had better kids.  We would all meet the next day at my cousin’s wedding, and meet, Ginger’s mom more excited than mine.  And meet we did, just before the wedding, and Ginger and I hit it off.  Only problem my girlfriend of 3 years was with me...and the old saying if it wears a skirt or has wheels it will let you down was about to become true to me.  She was pretty, and interested in me, which of course built my ego to an unsurpassed high.  Which led me on, despite the fact I was very happy with my girlfriend.  I could see the trouble coming, I just didn’t know it was here already.

She was in town, about an hour ride for another week, and since I was between jobs, I started one the day after she left, I went up to visit.  And we had fun, but with her mother cheerleading for us to get together.  I was just visiting...or so I thought.  And then we spent another day together, and she was serious, I was stupid. 

She left and went back to Ohio, 700 miles and two states away, and we wrote to each other.  In these pre email and cell phone days, you paid big by the minute, and mail it was.  A few weeks went by, and she was telling me of how her family was going to the lake by her for the weekend, and how much fun I would have.  But she was still 700 miles and two states away, but it was a 3 day weekend....So on the Friday night of Labor Day, around 7pm, I decided to go.  A ride with a present on the end was too much temptation, and I gave in.  But my R90S needed an oil change, the bike got better care than my love life, and I drained the oil, and refilled it.  Or rather watched it run out where I had forgotten to replace the drain plug, two quarts of Valvoline 10-40 lubing the floor.  After the customary cussing and anger, I went to look for oil, finally finding an auto parts store closed, but the owner just leaving and opened up for me.  My mind was racing,and every problem just made me want to leave even more.  All common sense had left me at this point, and by 9 pm, the oil was securely where it was intended to be, I was packed, and off to Ohio, western Ohio, some 700 miles away from New Jersey.  Oh, the things we do for love....or was it just lust?

More than one man has been smitten by a pretty face, and the promise of love.  Sampson was such a one, whose recorded in the Hall of Faith chapter in Hebrews.  We all know the story of his long hair, and how as a judge in Israel was forbidden by laws from certain things.  But when he fell for Delilah, a foreigner, he gave in.  He was in love, she was in it for a different reason.  And he wanted her bad, which is how it all turned out.  He touched a dead thing, a lion when he saw a honey comb in it.  Touching anything dead was heresy to the Jews.  And as a priest, big time trouble.  He drank wine, only a little, which also was forbidden.  How many make the excuse before it is too late?  Even today?  And finally she cut his hair, and he lost his strength.  She had won, and now blinded, had to be led around.  Thousands of years ago skirts and wheels was still a problem.  But God had promised him a victory, which he would win.  God’s promises are always true.  And blinded, he pulled down the pillars once his hair had grown back and his strength returned.  Being killed in the action....never seeing the victory or celebrating it that God had promised.  And yet, he is known as a man of faith?  How do we compare?

God knows our heart, and loves us anyway.  He also knows the plans he has for us, if only we would listen.  When he sent Jesus to reunite us and forgive our sins, it was past, present, and the future-forever.  All sins as if they had never existed.  And ours are today still forgiven in the same way.  And God has promises for us, if we turn to him.  When we are led by his spirit instead of our own lustful desires, we see all the blessings.  We get the victories in life and get closer to him.  But we get hung up on our sin, too many saying “you don’t know what I’ve done, God can never forgive me...” and they doubt God and his word.   And bring bitterness and sadness into many other lives because of it.  No sin is singular, or personal.  It effects others we may never know about.  But all are forgivable.  We need to forgive ourselves and move on.

Sampson did, but had gone too far.  He saw the signs, but didn’t heed the warnings.  I didn’t that summer either, and leaving that night was about to be trouble.  If only it was the rain, I could have ridden in it.  But other dangers lay ahead down the road, blinded by lust I rode on.  I didn’t know it then, I would be saved a year later, but God was looking out for me.  While still a sinner, he loved me.  Tomorrow find out the wheels part....and what laid ahead for me.  If only I had learned the lesson of Sampson, my Delilah was waiting.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

leaven me alone

Frank Sinatra sung of how he did it “My Way.”  Many entrepreneurs are said to be “self made men.”  In sports we hear of men who “carry the team.”  And we look up to those who overcame adversity and did it without any help.  A kid from a poor family that strikes it rich.  An expression from the 1960’s tells of those helping themselves by reaching down and pulling themselves “up by the bootstraps.”  A batter may be “down in the count,” a running back needs “second effort,” and all throughout life we are told to “never give up.”  Which Winston Churchill made famous in his six word speech, “never give up, never , never, never.”  Then sat down.  In life, and especially today, it is all about us, how we need to instill pride in ourselves, our schools, in our families.  We take pride in America, of a job well done.  Just put up a picture, the first person you look for is you.  But sadly, in real life it is just the opposite, we need others, we need help, assistance, and we dread being alone.  But there is a time and place for both, as the Bible tells us.

Leaven, which means to cause to swell, is often referred to in the Bible along with sin.  The Feast of Unleavened Bread is associated with Passover, as they were told to only eat bread with no yeast, no leaven in it, to remember them of their exodus.  They were even told to remove it from their homes, lest they be tempted.  But God was trying to show them a deeper, a more spiritual model for their lives, and how leaven may cause bread to rise, but also egos.  And get between them and God.

Why is it a pat on the back swells the head up?  We are told to be self sufficient, we used to laugh over an aspirin commercial when growing up, “Mother please, I’d rather do it myself!”  We want all the credit, all the praise, and if someone offers assistance, we get offended.  When Old Blue Eyes sang of doing his way, he neglected to recognize all those who helped along the way, all those who made the recording, and all the breaks he was given.  Along with a great voice from God, in which he had no say.  Jesus spoke of hypocrisy like this, the spirit of leaven, and we all are guilty of it.  We like to take credit, to cross the finish line alone.  But ask any NASCAR racer, and he will tell you many a race is won or lost in the pits, by his crew.  Even pretending or stretching the truth to give ourselves recognition is this leaven.  Fortunately when we come to Christ, we find out we can do all things in Christ who strengthens me.  You have, haven’t you?

Some are fatalists, whatever is going to happen will happen.  So why do they pray?  When faced with the golden rule, he who has the gold rules, they use power and money to dictate getting their own way.  Based on things, he who dies with the most toys still dies.  Ecclesiastes tells  us the rich man never has enough, and doesn’t sleep worrying about it.  They believe they have a special blessing from God for success, and it is their responsibility to use it for good, mostly theirs.  Again Jesus warns “be wary lest ye fall.”  A new understanding of fatal when they fall and no one is there to rescue them.

Remember the Sadducees?  How sad you see, they didn’t believe in the supernatural, or a divine deity, rejecting Jesus.  Everything can be explained by feel, sight, taste, sound, or smell.  If it can be sensed, it can be explained.  Sound like anyone you know?  An answer to every question.  Maybe a good Jeopardy contestant.  Yet they had no power over life and death, just as you had no say in the day you were born,or the day you will die.  But you have some say of the in between, where Jesus allows you the choice of heaven or hell.  And the faith to know the difference between the two, both unseen.  Only Jesus can raise the dead, and in him we will be resurrected also.  So from politics to who goes first, to who gets the best seat, to who gets the corner office, we have a choice, but only in Christ.  It is called his will, and every time I hear a no, it is because a better yes is coming.  He has plans for us, so we need to listen.  Next time you ride in the mountains, many curves you cannot see around, but he sees what’s ahead.  Like the rocks in the road, or the old pickup going 15 mph.  Or the cop with the radar, or a beautiful waterfall to stop and share.  Only Jesus gives us a view of what’s ahead, and gives us the choice.

So when someone claims “leave me alone, I can do it myself,” take the stand of leaven me alone.  We need a savior, God sent Jesus.  We need to guided, comforted, and forgiven, he left his spirit.  We need hope and future, only in Christ are these things found.  For he who thinks if he has the most things he wins, he still dies.  The things seen are temporal, like that new bike that is old when next year’s models come out.  But the things not seen are eternal.  So we walk by faith, not by sight, and will be eternally rewarded.  When you are free of leaven, you have freedom in Christ.  The truth will and has set you free.  Next time you feel important or indispensible, fill a bucket with water, and note the level.  Then put your hand in, remove it and see how much the level changes.  It doesn’t.  But your hand is wet and needs to be dried, so you ask for a towel.  Out of gas, you are glad when helps arrives.  When the chef cooks your steak just right.  When doctor says your operation was a success.  Less dependence on self, more on the Lord.  Who has been his counselor?  I don’t see your hand going up....or do I? 

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the week I spent in Fargo one night

I spent a week in Fargo one night.  After a day of riding across the hills of Minnesota, and dodging bird sized mosquitoes, the state bird, I rode into Fargo, tired and needing rest.  After a meal at a local steakhouse, where the waitress was more interested in my ride than I was the town, I spent a night that started out quiet at a motel.  Safe and secure, I fell asleep early, figuring I would locate the Triumph dealer the next day, and drive around before heading west.  But sometime in the night, the windows started rattling, and it was raining-hard.  Looking from my second story vantage point, the bike was upright, but the wind was swirling the rain, so bad you could barely see.  So I did the right thing, I went back to sleep, surely it would be gone by morning...only to wake up to the fact it had gotten worse.  Sitting in the breakfast room, it was mostly farmer types as evidenced by their bib overalls.  And the older ones were talking of they hadn’t seen a storm like this in years.  And they were staying put.  The local news predicted rain and wind all day, possibly tomorrow, and temps unusually warm, in the sixties.  So using all my uncommon sense, I decided to proceed west.  What was I thinking?

Wrapped in my rain suit, with warm clothes underneath, I was warm and dry underneath.  Outside was a different story.  I kept figuring, praying that this rain could not go on forever, hoping forever had a short window that day.  But for 290 miles across North Dakota on I-94, I rode.  Maybe the longest single prayer, if not prayer request ever, “God keep me safe!”  I was over the dry part.  How bad was it?  The rain was blowing, causing me to lean to the left, which when I stopped, the left  side of my front tire was worn, actually scuffed, from riding on it.  I was wet inside, so much for waterproof, maybe when they advertise rain suits it is because the rain gets inside, too.  I faced the rain with great disdain on the plain that day, and never have blue skies felt so welcomed. 

I had stopped for gas in Bismarck, all I could think of was the song when I was a kid about sinking the Bismarck, I didn’t want to sink in Bismarck.  So on I rode, and in Dickinson, North Dakota, the skies turned blue, the scenery could be seen, it was beautiful, and I stopped for gas and to take off my rain suit.  Mostly dry underneath, it had turned cold, 39 degrees cold.  Like 7 degrees above freezing cold, winter to me.  But this September cold was no big deal to the locals, dressed in t-shirts, and one woman in a summer dress and flip flops started talking to me.  She had more questions about why anyone would ride in the rain, I was beginning to wonder myself, and did I get wet?  As I was stripping off my rain suit, and watching the steam rise from my clothes in the sun.  So I sat a bit longer than usual, soaking in the sun, and dreaming of a good night’s sleep, under heavy blankets in a warm motel room.  Which was only another 250 miles away in Montana.....where sure enough it was still 39 degrees.

And when riding to breakfast, and drinking hot chocolate, that or either tea on the road when cold, a coupe rode in on a Harley, in you guessed it, t-shirts.  It would be in the forties that day, “brisk but not cold,” he told me, as I sat shivering.   So my initial views of North Dakota and Montana may have been jaded by the rain, and I hope some day to see them again, if I can figure out which weekend is summer there.  And I am dressed better for it.  And maybe even do it in a car, I never want to get rained on like that again, and I have no one else to blame but myself, it was my decision to ride.  Maybe the first state I ever rode across and saw no motorcycles, no make it two, for I was the solo rider that day.  Fortunately it was only going to rain the next 1500 miles home....

One thing we Christians share with non-believers is in the good times we forget to pray.  Things are going our way, no need to burden God with our problems.  And then the rains hit, and first we complain-admit it, then we beg, then we ask forgiveness for whining, and then ask God to help.  Stop the rain, make the temp go up, stop the winds.  After all those things happened when others prayed as noted in scripture.  But many times they don’t, and only our perserverence in not giving up takes us through.  But more times than not, this is the time we truly get real with God.  We see how outnumbered or outweathered we are, and turn all things over to him completely.  Repenting, promising to never sin again, to do things right, and never get into another situation like this.  Knowing full well we will.  But it is our perseverence in prayer, our not letting hold of God that keeps us going.  Somewhere in the wind and rain we know he is there.  In the midst of the storms, we find peace in his spirit, and cling tight, hoping not to crash.  Hard times, trials and tribulations bring us closer to Jesus, humbling us, which is better than being humiliated.  All things work together for those who love God, the rain falls on the just and the unjust, and all trials should be counted as joyful.  Obviously James never rode in the rain.  But yet in the midst of the storm that day, I had peace.  Which I cannot describe, inside my Arai was all about Jesus, who took me through the storm.  A reminder of what peace really is in God’s world.

Joy is not the absence of suffering, but the presence of God. So is peace.  A contest was given to come up with a logo for a church.  It came down to two finalists, second place was a serene sunset at the beach.  Colors only God could provide.  But the winner showed a mother bird sitting on her nest, protecting her young, while a storm raged around her.  The peace of the Lord keeping her children safe, a reminder of the Lord in the tough times.  Good choice, that one I can relate to.  No beaches in Fargo.

Jesus is not only with us in the storm, but takes us through it.  Never was blue sky so welcomed as when I hit Dickinson, but the cold kept me in prayer.  And for the rest of the 1800 miles, without Jesus the ride would have been cold and lonely.  But I was kept safe, underneath his wings.  The same wings that mount up as eagles, protect us on the ground too.  In the midst of the storm, Jesus is there.  He never left me, he just dressed for the rain that day knowing my decision.  Also knowing that based on my decision I would be praying more, and spending more time with him.  Is it possible the rain draws us closer to God, and that is why he sends it sometimes?  When is the last time we praised him for sun and warmth?  Truly it is all about Jesus.

Storms come in all shapes and sizes, we need Jesus in each one.  He will take us through, maybe not unscathed, I was cold and wet, but to the other side, where we can look back and see how he brought us through.  Part of our testimony, part of our walk.  To encourage others, in their storm.  That day the still, small voice of God was heard clearly in the rain and wind.  No other voice sounds so peaceful, so soothing, so reassuring.  Don’t wait until the rain is at your door to start filling sand bags, spend time in Christ today.  Let his spirit, the comforter, comfort you.  See a side of Jesus you didn’t know.  And grow closer to him, and see how much he loves us.  Enough to weather the storm of a cross, nothing is too tough for him.  Time may fly when we are having fun, it slows when we are in trouble or distressed.  Maybe it is the peace that gives us rest and slows us down, the desire for the time spent in the spirit to not end.  Maybe that is why James said all trials are joyful, for they end in prayer, time spent with our Father in heaven.  Who sent his son, who left his spirit to guide us.  I’ll just bet James never rode in the rain....

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

just another New Jersey day once a year

I met a man years ago who was student teaching with my Dad.  He was a bit older than the standard out of college going to change the way things are done 22 year old grad, he had had a previous career spanning a few years of working for the state of New Jersey.  He had worked in the Westfield Vehicle Inspection Station, where every year when registering  your car it had to have some physical inspections to make sure it was road safe.  Long before SMOG rules became standard, it checked brakes and lights, horn, tires, and other safety items.  All the ones we fail to check on our own cars.  At least in Jersey they get checked yearly. But for a while he worked with the guy who did the headlight testing, to make sure they were aimed properly.  He and a legendary man, who no one knew the name of, were headlight beam testers, and many a car failed because of this man.  He weighed well over 300 pounds, and his job was to sit in the car, and test the lights by aiming them at a target.  His weight automatically made the left  hand light dip due to his weight, and many a properly aimed car’s headlights were failed because of his excessive size.  When he was relating the story one night, almost all of us in the room had become a victim of him, or rather his size.  Thankfully just outside the building sat a place to aim your headlights, for a fee.  And then you could get back in line.  Hoping a replacement hadn’t taken over, and the lights would need to be reaimed, for a fee of course.

How many cars failed, and how much money was made by reaiming headlights that didn’t need to be is legendary, another urban legend that happens to be true from the Garden State.  And how you can take a well meaning inspection, add a human element, and upset it.  But also the power of one man could help regulate it, as in the case of Malcolm Forbes.  When he opened his mega motorcycle dealership with Hank Slegers, due to his political savvy, he had an inspection station build on his property, no bike ever failed, and I’ll bet no friend’s car due to inspectors size and scope.  My first positive, and maybe my last of “hi I’m from the government and here to help.”  Of the people, became of a person, by the person, and for the person.  And worth the half hour ride to Whippany to get your car inspected.  And spend time in the showroom.  See not all motorcyclists are bad.....

Now I am not anti-safety, and working in Colorado and doing brake and light inspections, I saw too many neglected and dangerous vehicles.  Fortunately the headlight adjustment was not part of it.  But inspections are nothing new, as they go way back, and actually were a part of worship to God in the days of Leviticus.  Many if not all sacrifices to God had instructions of what and how to sacrifice it.  Precise and simple so the people would get it.  But like in daily life, when man and the government are involved, you can bet things will change.  Fast forwarding to the time of Christ, there were approved sacrificial stores where animals could be purchased.  The best, the ones approved by God were the most expensive, and different levels of worthiness were available.  Down to sick and impure ones, the ones God specified not to use.  For they bring disgrace to the sacrifice.  Yet we find the 300 pound inspector selling defective lambs, and another within the temple accepting them.  It is bad enough the government is here to help us, let alone the church.  But God was and is wise enough to see through our sacrifices, and knows our heart.  And also our budgets.  So he sent Jesus to be the ultimate sacrifice for all, the perfect lamb to be slain for our sins.  The only way to be truly forgiven.  Yet many resist, either claiming to be without sin, or denying Jesus as deity.  Some even claim you can work your way to heaven, why work for something when it is provided for free? 

The old joke about a waitress getting a 15% tip, and God only requiring 10% gives rise to more arguments.  Which again God provided for through Jesus.  He gives us the story of giving in the woman with two mites, less than a penny, giving all she had.  A true sacrifice.  The Lord looks at the heart, and sees our motives, unlike the man who stands up and declares to give $10,000, anonymously.  Scripture tells us he loves a cheerful giver, the word meaning to give with hilarity.  Think of the funniest joke you ever heard, and how it makes you laugh uncontrollably.  That is how we are supposed to give.  Yet many base giving on a tithe, 10%, and like the minimum wage laws, that really mean that’s all I have to pay them, honor God the same way.  Again the law brings condemnation, and through the grace of Jesus Christ we find freedom.  I know a man who has faithfully tithed for years, even going without food and certain needs to do it.  His church requires it.  Yet he does in begrudgingly, and finds no blessings in it.  God set the standard for giving when he gave his son to die for us, something no law could do.  Now about those headlights....

If this were all about only giving money we would all be in bad shape.  But Jesus shows us how to be a faithful giver, and show his love, the gospel to others.  He calls it ministry, which is simply seeing a need and fulfilling it.  How can you budget for unforeseen needs?  His five examples, given to a church who has bragged about how much they did for him, amazed them all and still does today.  Thirsty, give water.  Hungry, provide a meal.  Lonely, go visit.  In jail or bedridden, don’t forget them.  And do it to all, just not those in church or those you know.  Welcome strangers, as some have done and met with angels.  Giving is the way to see more of Jesus in your life.  Remember that next time you grumble over giving, or how the church is using it.  That ain’t giving, you may as well keep it.  And expect a sermon on tithing when the funds dwindle....

So remember God and giving next time it comes time to tip the waitress.  God is looking for an outward display of grace in your life.  Don’t wait for the collection plate to be passed to give.  Or check to see who is.  You may be surprised on who gives what, and you wouldn’t want to be embarrassed.  If a 300 pound inspector is sitting on your heart and causing it to fail to give, it may need an adjustment, or it may be the inspector.  God knows, and by his spirit will direct you.  A vehicle should be inspected daily, a simple check of tires and horn can suffice, but a daily inspection of the heart is in order too.  You know what I mean, only God is watching, so give unto him, and not to who is watching, or who is demanding.  You cannot take an offering, it is freely given, or should be.  But you can give unto God by showing his love and meeting needs.  With a smile.  There was nothing like getting to the end of the line and being told you passed.  Getting that new sticker, good for another year of happy Jersey motoring.  Someday we will all meet our maker, and I know I will hear the words “well done my good and faithful servant.” It is not how much you have, but how you use it.  Don’t let the 300 pound inspector of religion fail you.  You can never out give God, so don’t try.  But you can represent him and his love.  If it were all about money, maybe the only disciple who was about money would not have sold out Jesus.  Give today, of yourself, and laugh as you are filled with joy doing it.  And remember, even the 300 pound inspector had to have his car inspected!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com