Not Normal Stuff
An Inspiring Man
Because I ride a motorcycle, I pay attention to motorcycles I see on the road. We were in Colorado on Saturday, August 14th, 2010. We were traveling back to Denver after a wonderful week in the Paonia, Marble, Crested Butte area.
We stopped for gas. I saw this bike, one I hadn't seen before, and I went over to talk to the man who was riding it. I never had the chance to even ask his name, but he is one of the most inspiring people I have ever met. An amazing man with an amazing example, I doubt I will ever forget him. Read on.
Vicky yelled, "he fell down." I turned around in the seat to see what happened. We all jumped out of the van and raced over to help the man off the dirty concrete of the gas station. Vicky and my children helped the man off the ground. I helped pick his motorcycle up. We were all concerned for his safety. I wish I knew his name. Our meeting was so brief, so quick, that I never even asked his name. But I doubt I will ever forget that man.
We were in Vail, a lovely "we want your money" ski town. We didn't stay long. Charisa needed gas. The van needed no gas, so we were sitting in it waiting on her to fill up. I saw this motorcycle that I had never seen before and went over to ask the rider about it.
He had a helmet on, but I could tell he was a good bit older than me.
I asked where he came from. "Oregon" he said. "How far have you ridden?" "About 1,800 miles," he said. "Is it comfortable?" He just said, "no."
It is made by the Husqvarna company. It is a certain type of motorcycle called "dual sport" or "on-off" road bike. It is designed more for riding trails than for the highway, but this man had ridden it almost 2,000 miles. We learned, after we picked him up, that he was headed to L. A. from Colorado. There was a man with him, but they were not traveling together. He was riding alone.
The reason he fell was because the bike was too high for him. He had to tip-toe to hold it up. As he stood, his thinness and frailty became more evident to me. After we helped him up he said, "I don't have the strength I used to have. Four year ago I had throat cancer. Went through surgery, chemo and radiation treatments. It took the strength out of me." He wasn't bragging, just speaking the truth so we would understand why he fell.
He didn't seem to be embarrassed either. I have dropped my motorcycle before and it was very embarrassing. But this man was different. He had lived long enough to get over the pride thing, I guess.
That unknown motorcyclist inspired me not to quit, not to stop, to throw off my complaining and my grumbling when I'm tired or feel bad. Why the inspiration? Because we learned in those few minutes that he was 78 years old! Every time I tell someone about him, or think about him, I am in awe. I am challenged. I am inspired.
May our Lord give us all His grace and strength to finish our race well, to hear our wonderful Master say "well done, My child."
The Motorcycle Ride & the F. B. I.
A few years ago I had a visit from 2 F.B.I. agents from Texas. I know, that was not just the other day, but I just remembered this story this past week and thought to share it with you. They started asking me questions like I was under investigation. "Do you remember riding your motorcycle about 3 weeks ago in the country several miles west of Barrington?" they asked.
"Sure I remember. I ride up that way often. It is a quiet and beautiful place to ride. Lots of horse farms. It looks like Kentucky." They asked, "did you stop at a certain house?"
I remember that day, but I don't remember why I stopped. It was in front of a home with a long driveway. At the same time I stopped, a man was walking toward the mailbox.
At the time I didn't think much about it, but after these F. B. I. agents asked, I was reminded of how agitated he was. He said something like, "I'm expecting a delivery soon. Will you please move?" "Sure," I said. I got on my motorcycle and kept riding. No big deal. At least until these government agents came to my study.
The man was under the federal witness protection program. He had been relocated to that rural area to protect him from being killed, because he was a key witness in a big government operation. So I stopped in front of his house as he happened to be checking his mail. I opened the bag on my motorcycle. He thought I had come to kill him. Was I pulling a gun out of my bag? The man feared for his life.Quite an interesting conversation I had with the 2 agents. I asked where they were from. One was from Texas. The other from D.C. "You came all the way here to ask me about this?" "Yes, but we had some other things to do, too." "So our government paid you to come here to make sure I wasn't trying to kill your witness?" "That's right." "Why didn't you just send a local police officer to question me?" I asked. "This is a very important case." I commented about how our government wastes so much money on things like this. "Someone could have called and talked to me and figured out I am not a hired killer."
I told those 2 men that it was no accident that I stopped that day on that country road at just the time that man was at end of his long driveway. It was no accident that they came from Texas and D.C. to talk with me about those events. It was a great opportunity to share the Great News of our Lord with them. They listened and took the literature I gave them.
We are His ambassadors. He directs us into His purposes. May you see His plans in the unusual events and the normal events of your days. May you see fruit from the seed of His Word that you share with the people our Lord brings to you in His divine appointments.
Because I ride a motorcycle, I pay attention to motorcycles I see on the road. We were in Colorado on Saturday, August 14th, 2010. We were traveling back to Denver after a wonderful week in the Paonia, Marble, Crested Butte area.
We stopped for gas. I saw this bike, one I hadn't seen before, and I went over to talk to the man who was riding it. I never had the chance to even ask his name, but he is one of the most inspiring people I have ever met. An amazing man with an amazing example, I doubt I will ever forget him. Read on.
Vicky yelled, "he fell down." I turned around in the seat to see what happened. We all jumped out of the van and raced over to help the man off the dirty concrete of the gas station. Vicky and my children helped the man off the ground. I helped pick his motorcycle up. We were all concerned for his safety. I wish I knew his name. Our meeting was so brief, so quick, that I never even asked his name. But I doubt I will ever forget that man.
We were in Vail, a lovely "we want your money" ski town. We didn't stay long. Charisa needed gas. The van needed no gas, so we were sitting in it waiting on her to fill up. I saw this motorcycle that I had never seen before and went over to ask the rider about it.
He had a helmet on, but I could tell he was a good bit older than me.
I asked where he came from. "Oregon" he said. "How far have you ridden?" "About 1,800 miles," he said. "Is it comfortable?" He just said, "no."
It is made by the Husqvarna company. It is a certain type of motorcycle called "dual sport" or "on-off" road bike. It is designed more for riding trails than for the highway, but this man had ridden it almost 2,000 miles. We learned, after we picked him up, that he was headed to L. A. from Colorado. There was a man with him, but they were not traveling together. He was riding alone.
The reason he fell was because the bike was too high for him. He had to tip-toe to hold it up. As he stood, his thinness and frailty became more evident to me. After we helped him up he said, "I don't have the strength I used to have. Four year ago I had throat cancer. Went through surgery, chemo and radiation treatments. It took the strength out of me." He wasn't bragging, just speaking the truth so we would understand why he fell.
He didn't seem to be embarrassed either. I have dropped my motorcycle before and it was very embarrassing. But this man was different. He had lived long enough to get over the pride thing, I guess.
That unknown motorcyclist inspired me not to quit, not to stop, to throw off my complaining and my grumbling when I'm tired or feel bad. Why the inspiration? Because we learned in those few minutes that he was 78 years old! Every time I tell someone about him, or think about him, I am in awe. I am challenged. I am inspired.
May our Lord give us all His grace and strength to finish our race well, to hear our wonderful Master say "well done, My child."
The Motorcycle Ride & the F. B. I.
A few years ago I had a visit from 2 F.B.I. agents from Texas. I know, that was not just the other day, but I just remembered this story this past week and thought to share it with you. They started asking me questions like I was under investigation. "Do you remember riding your motorcycle about 3 weeks ago in the country several miles west of Barrington?" they asked.
"Sure I remember. I ride up that way often. It is a quiet and beautiful place to ride. Lots of horse farms. It looks like Kentucky." They asked, "did you stop at a certain house?"
I remember that day, but I don't remember why I stopped. It was in front of a home with a long driveway. At the same time I stopped, a man was walking toward the mailbox.
At the time I didn't think much about it, but after these F. B. I. agents asked, I was reminded of how agitated he was. He said something like, "I'm expecting a delivery soon. Will you please move?" "Sure," I said. I got on my motorcycle and kept riding. No big deal. At least until these government agents came to my study.
The man was under the federal witness protection program. He had been relocated to that rural area to protect him from being killed, because he was a key witness in a big government operation. So I stopped in front of his house as he happened to be checking his mail. I opened the bag on my motorcycle. He thought I had come to kill him. Was I pulling a gun out of my bag? The man feared for his life.Quite an interesting conversation I had with the 2 agents. I asked where they were from. One was from Texas. The other from D.C. "You came all the way here to ask me about this?" "Yes, but we had some other things to do, too." "So our government paid you to come here to make sure I wasn't trying to kill your witness?" "That's right." "Why didn't you just send a local police officer to question me?" I asked. "This is a very important case." I commented about how our government wastes so much money on things like this. "Someone could have called and talked to me and figured out I am not a hired killer."
I told those 2 men that it was no accident that I stopped that day on that country road at just the time that man was at end of his long driveway. It was no accident that they came from Texas and D.C. to talk with me about those events. It was a great opportunity to share the Great News of our Lord with them. They listened and took the literature I gave them.
We are His ambassadors. He directs us into His purposes. May you see His plans in the unusual events and the normal events of your days. May you see fruit from the seed of His Word that you share with the people our Lord brings to you in His divine appointments.
The Nice Lady on a Rainy Day
The lady opened her door in the pouring rain, turned around, looked at me and said "are you all right?" I must have looked "not alright." It had started to pour down cold rain just about 4 blocks before she got out of her minivan. I must have looked like a drowned rat, she must have had the gift of mercy. It was a first for me.
I smiled and said "it is one of the blessings of riding a motorcycle, sometimes you get soaked." We had both stopped at a traffic light. Now she was getting soaked. It was funny to me. I just about started laughing at her, but didn't. Before she got back into her blue van with the Mary Kay sticker on the back window, she said "Are you sure you will be ok?" "Yes, thanks, I'll be fine," I said. The rest of the way home I smiled. I couldn't wait to tell Vicky what happened.
Sure is good to know there are still people in our world who care about strangers. She was a nice lady.
I appreciated her concern. It warmed me, and encouraged me to be more caring toward others. That is what our Lord would want us to do, isn't it?
People all around you are hurting. Maybe you are hurting. Sometimes they need someone to care for them, about them, to speak a kind word, a word of concern. May our Lord help you to do that. May He send someone to do that for you in your time of need.
A simple word of concern could be used of your Lord to guide another person to Him. Just another day in His life He asked a lady for a drink. It was not common for men to speak to women and it was very unusual for a Jew to speak to a Samaritan. But there was nothing common or normal about Jesus Christ. His simple request for a drink led to that woman being changed forever. He uses normal people on normal days who express concern and care to others.
May He work through you today, so that His glory and purposes will be realized in just one person to whom you express care and concern. You may not be moved to open your door in the pouring rain to ask a stranger if he is ok, but may you be moved with His compassion toward others wherever He leads you on "Just Another Day." A normal day can make an eternal difference for another person when He uses you to reach out with His truth and love.
"And many of the Samaritans of that city believed in Him because of the word of the woman... Then they said to
the woman, 'Now we believe, not because of what you said, for we ourselves have heard Him and we know that this is indeed the Christ, the Savior of the world." John 4.39-42.