Ever had a day when you did everything in your power to make it turn out one way only to have it turn out entirely different?
On Saturday morning, I awoke with one goal in mind: to get my Suzuki back together and on the road by the end of the day. First though, I needed to help my lovely wife, Jenifer, set out odds and ends for a neighborhood yard sale. Once that was up and running, I headed into the garage to begin work on the motorcycle. [See previous blog post for why it needs repair]
The first task of the project was to disassemble the right-hand fork shaft to replace a leaking oil seal. For those of you who aren’t around motorcycles much, the “fork” is made up of the two spring-loaded pistons or shock-absorbers that are bolted to the handlebars at the top end and provide the mount for the axel and front tire at the bottom. They have heavy oil in them that acts, not only as a lubricant, but also as a dampening agent that keeps the forks from bouncing as you drive over bumps in the pavement. When the seal begins to leak, oil seeps out of the piston and gets on everything near it. It’s not a good thing. One of the fork seals was leaking before the accident, but since the accident repair included front-end work, I figured it was as good a time as any to fix the leaking seal.
Every motorcycle fork assembly is different. I’d changed a fork oil seal on another motorcycle once, so I thought I could do this one too. First problem: I don’t have a hex-head socket large enough to fit the bolt in the bottom of the fork. Okay. I’m going to have to make a run to the auto parts store for that socket. I’ll just pick up the fork oil from the Suzuki dealer that I need and get a few other things. It will only delay me an hour or so.
I make the trip to the store on our little Honda Nighthawk. It’s a lovely day for a ride. By 11am, I have the correct socket fitting and I begin to remove the bolt. It will loosen, but not by much. I spin the bolt for a few turns—nothing. I peer into the open end of the piston. No clue there as to why it won’t come apart. I study the diagram I printed off the Internet. Hmmmm. I peer into the open end of the piston again. I spin the bolt while appearing into the piston. Oh crap!
Deep inside the piston housing is a wrench fitting. Reality begins to sink in—I don’t have anything that’s going to fit into the fitting, not to mention be long enough to reach it all the way inside the piston. I head back inside to get more information off the Internet. Sure enough. Getting to that fitting deep inside requires a special tool for just that task. Oh come on! You’ve got to be kidding? Couldn’t Suzuki design the fork without something so absurd? Only a Suzuki repair shop is going to have such a tool. I can purchase one too, at a number of Internet web sites, for a price.
I’m starting to despair. My goal was to fix the fork seal myself. I wanted to save money. Come on, God, why this? Why do projects have to be so difficult? Why can’t I have a little success? My motive was good! Isn’t saving money a good and noble motive? If money were no object, I would have taken BOTH forks in for repair and let someone more qualified do it. Now I have to have someone else do the work just because I don’t have some STUPID, FANCY, YOU’LL-ONLY-NEED-IT-ONCE doo-dah wrenchy thingy! Ugh!
I begin to think of what to do next. The closest Suzuki dealer won’t be able to do the work until next week. I hit the Yellow Pages to see if anyone else in town repairs motorcycles. I call one place—no answer. I call the Suzuki dealer on the other side of town. I explain my situation to the man who answers. He puts on the Service manager. Yes, they can help me. Yes, they have the special fork wrench. Yes, they can do it this afternoon. Hooray! I’m saved! Maybe my motorcycle will yet ride today.
I tell Jeni the good news and set out again on the little Nighthawk. It takes a few miles for the frustration to wear off. I’m so set on getting to the shop across town, that I forget what a nice day it is. I’ve got a 30 minute ride on the Nighthawk ahead of me and rather than enjoy it, I’m already worried that the other shop won’t be able to help. For the first time today, I begin to speak to God about my problem.
Two things hit me, almost immediately. First, I haven’t asked God to be a part of this project at all today. I set out with my own agenda, completely forgetting, again, that this motorcycle is his. Second, I realize that I’m actually doing what I dreamed of doing earlier in the week. I’m taking a motorcycle ride on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. I’m just not on the bike I wanted to be on. Funny isn’t it? I’m doing what I wanted to be able to do and yet was so caught up in the task that I nearly missed out on the blessing.
Armed with that realization, I slow down (the Nighthawk doesn’t really go very fast) [See my last post about speed] and try to enjoy the ride. It IS a beautiful day for a ride and my Heavenly Father is blessing me. My heart softens as I realize his goodness and kindness toward me, even when I don’t immediately see it.
I arrive at the Fort Oglethorpe [GA] Suzuki shop. It’s about 1:30pm. I take all my fork parts to the service desk. The man can help me. His technician will start immediately. I tell him I’ll go drool over the new motorcycles in the showroom while I wait. To a motorcycle fan, a showroom full of new bikes is like a being kid in a toy store. There’s much to look at.
About 15 minutes later, the technician comes to tell me that the after-market fork seals I purchased at the other Suzuki dealer are too cheap. They’ll fit the fork, sure, but he won’t guarantee the work with such poor quality parts. Despair punches me in the gut. Oh no, not again! God, why isn’t this working? I was feeling so good about it a moment ago. The technician and his service manager look in their parts database for the correct OEM part. It shows up on their computer as “discontinued.” Oh, great! They do a cross reference and find a new part number. The technician checks to see if they have the part in stock. No. He checks another bin. “Sorry,” he explains, “we’ll have to order it.”
My heart sinks. Another delay. More money required—that we don’t have! The technician explains that they really recommend having both forks serviced at the same time. They can make sure both are adjusted to the same tension and both will have fresh oil. Fixing one and not the other will cause unbalanced movement in each fork. That could lead to other problems. It’s really best to have them do both. They can order two seals and install them in an hour’s worth of labor. I’ve already purchased the oil. It’ll be another hundred bucks. But, the job will be done properly. In the long run, I know in my heart that it’s best.
I surrender to dismay. Frustrated, I call Jeni and tell her the news. She’s in complete agreement that the work needs to be done. I love her for her understanding. She is very supportive when it comes to maintaining the motorcycles. The only catch is the financing. We simply don’t have the funds. We spent the “cushion” on a car repair earlier in the week.
After further negotiations with Jeni (on the cell phone) and the technician (behind the parts counter), he informs me that he can add the parts order to the repair ticket, saving me having to pay for the parts immediately. He gives me the parts that don’t work—I’ll try to return them to the other dealer for a refund. I promise to bring the other fork in next week. He’ll do them both when the correct parts come in. I thank him for his help and head home on the Nighthawk.
Gratitude slowly takes the place of disappointment in my heart as I ride home on a lovely Saturday afternoon. It’s a beautiful day for a ride and my Heavenly Father has again blessed me with a wonderful motorcycle ride. I finally repent of my former ungratefulness. God has been good to me—all day.
I find other things to do when I get home and make some progress on other aspects of the Suzuki repair project. While the bike is not done, there’s now hope that it will be soon.
It’s not until bedtime that God’s goodness to me comes into focus. I had my agenda for the day. God had another. I had my plan for doing what I could in my own strength. God had other plans. I did what I could to solve my problems my way. God circumvented my solutions and provided his own. My plan was to fix one fork. His plan includes repairing both forks. I would have used inferior parts. He wanted OEM parts on his bike. I wasn’t experienced enough for the task. God took care of that too. I wanted immediate gratification. God wanted it done right. Only he knows what effect having those forks repaired correctly will have on the operation of his motorcycle down the road. Only he knows what he’s saving me from later on. Will I trust him?
Many, many times I find myself trying to solve my problems my own way. In spite of God’s faithful and perfect record of always taking care of me, I am easily tempted to take matters into my own hands. I don’t even think to pray, much less ask Him to be involved. And that’s what he wants. He wants to be involved. He wants to bless me. He wants to bless you. He longs for us to engage Him in relationship. He wants to rescue us. He wants us to call on him in our time of need AND in our time of blessing. God loves to help solve motorcycle repair issues. He loves to be invited into the everyday aspects of our lives. He values the process he takes us through, just as much as the outcome.
God didn’t force me to bend to his will. He allowed me to discover my need for him once I ran out of options. He’s always patient like that. And he’s good. He gave me what I really wanted—a motorcycle ride on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. I’m just glad I figured it out before it was over.
God is good and his intentions toward us are ALWAYS good.
Last night, at a special “Palm Sunday” service, the worship leaders encouraged us to consider Psalm 33. The one phrase that stuck out to me is found in verse 4: “…He is faithful in all He does…” God has always been faithful to me and my family. He has always met our need. He continues to bless us in what really matters. He is good. He can be trusted. He is ever faithful, in spite of how we act.
God will put his bike back together in his time and his way. He will provide the funds to pay for it when the time comes. The Suzuki will ride again when God sees fit.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Accidents teach!
There's nothing like a motorcycle accident to get one's attention. Unfortunately, I was the one involved.
About a week ago, I spent a lovely morning riding the hills aroundChattanooga Lookout Mountain Cloudland Canyon State Park in Northwest Georgia .
On the way back toChattanooga
There are many things an experienced motorcyclist learns over the years on a bike. One, is the importance of the adhesion maintained between the bike tires and the surface of the road. When a bike loses that adhesion, you're in trouble. I braked hard. The rear tire locked up and began to skid, then fish-tail. I knew I was going down when I hit a patch of pea-gravel on the road. In what must have taken just two seconds, I lost control of the bike and splattered on the pavement, bike sliding on its side into a painted "triangle" at the intersection. Oh, crap!
Only a man would understand that my first thought was of the damage I'd done to my beautiful Suzuki. It was lying on its side, windshield busted in a dozen pieces, gas leaking out of the tank, a small debris field trailing 30 feet back up the road. I'd been in this predicament before. It's never pleasant.
When people ask me if I've ever been in a motorcycle accident, I tell them yes, three times: once due to rain, once due to loose gravel and once due to sheer stupidity. I rarely give details about the third accident. My fourth is now feeling a lot like my third.
People gathered around me almost immediately. They wanted to know if I was okay. I wanted to pick up my motorcycle. They wanted to know if I was bleeding. I wanted to find my GPS unit. They wanted to know if they should call 911 for an ambulance. I wanted to know how much repairing my motorcycle was going to cost. They wanted to check me for broken bones. I wanted to check how much paint and metal I left on the pavement.
We all concluded that I was okay, for the most part, though my jacket and ski bibs were shredded in places. My elbow was starting to hurt and I'd probably skinned my knee, but I was reasonably sure that nothing was broken. We finally found the GPS unit, with appeared undamaged and we righted the bike back up on its side stand. My buddies, not finding me up the road, attempted a phone call to my cell phone. I informed them of my accident and asked them to come find me. The eventually did, in spite of the incorrect location I gave them in my confused state. I called my wife, Jeni, to fill her in on what happened.
After determining that I was okay and the bike, surprisingly, was driveable, we left the scene. I limped the bike home on surface streets. It took me about 45 minutes. My left arm was really starting to ache and hurt every time I had to squeeze the clutch lever to shift. My chiropractor later agreed that I had probably hyper-extended my left elbow, damaging the muscles and ligaments that connect up and down my arm. To this day, I have a hard time stretching my arm out straight or bending my elbow to touch my face.
In the midst of all this, I'm having an ongoing conversation with my Father-God, about why this had to happen. My brother, Paul, is always asking me to consider where God is, in the different circumstances I face daily. So, I ask God, what's this all about. "Why did you allow this to happen, Lord?" "What are you trying to tell me, that required this to get my attention?" It's obvious, as I replay the accident in my mind and in my conversations with others, that God protected me incredibly. It could have been much worse. I could have hit a car at that intersection; I could have spun out into traffic. The motorcycle wasn't damaged beyond repair. I sustained no broken bones. "Why, God, did it happen this way?"
Before I write what I believe are the answers to those questions, I need to fill in some of the back story regarding God and me and motorcycles. I bought my first motorcycle, a 1979 Honda CX5oo Custom, not long before my oldest son was born. Jeni was very supportive of the purchase and we saw it as a means of saving money on my commute to work. I owned that bike for about 4 years. My second motorcycle was a large 1981 Honda GL1100, otherwise known as a Goldwing. I rode that until we moved toTennessee
As we were preparing for our move from Southern Oregon toChattanooga
It wasn't until we got settled into our new life here inChattanooga
My son, Joel, and I began work on that bike immediately and we had it running about two weeks later. God did use that motorcycle to be a blessing to me and my family. I gave many rides to kids and adults alike in that sidecar. Most days I rode it without the sidecar to and from work. I felt God's smile and pleasure as I rode, wind in my face, on the country roads surroundingChattanooga
This past fall (2008), I asked God if he'd be okay with me trading up to a larger motorcycle. The GL500 was underpowered, especially with the sidecar attached. I wanted a larger motorcycle to haul two adults comfortably on day trips. My children are all getting older and heavier and I needed more power to haul the extra weight. In October, I listed the Silverwing and sidecar on Craigslist at a price God had led us to set. It sold easily. I could have sold it many times over for my asking price. God was in the sale.
Then I began to look for another, larger, motorcycle. I only had the money from the sale of the Silverwing to work with, so I had to find as much motorcycle as I could with what I had to offer. It took about two weeks to find the Suzuki, and once again, God was in the details. I really didn't know what kind of a motorcycle the GSX1100G was, nor was I sure that was the kind of bike I needed to accomplish what God wanted. He made it evident in orchestrating the sale, the pick-up and the affirmation that this was the bike he wanted me to have. I was thrilled. On the ride home, following the transaction, across theNorthwest Georgia mountains, the word that kept coming to mind was, "effortless". This new motorcycle was powerful. The previous owners had also taken very good care of it. It looked nearly new, even though it was a 1993 model.
All that to say God had blessed us again, with a beautiful machine, to be used for his glory and our delight. There was one problem: it is a very fast motorcycle. Suzuki took a "crotch rocket" engine and put it on a sport-touring frame. As I began to ride it, I discovered its ability to accelerate very quickly. This bike is by far, the most powerful motorcycle I had ever owned. Abusing that ability became a real temptation.
Back to my accident. As I began to contemplate what God might be saying to me in this situation, I was reminded of the many times, recently, I had well exceeded the speed limit to race along the roads and freeways. I had told myself again and again, that "Just becaus the bike will do 90 (mph) doesn't mean I need to go 90." You'd have to be a guy and a motorcycle rider to understand the temptation to grab a fist-full of throttle and rocket off from an intersection, testing your ability to jump through the motorcycle gears as fast as you can. It's fun, it's adrenalin-inducing, it's dangerous, it's exhilerating. Speed is addictive.
Moments before my crash alongside Georgia Hwy 27, I had been doing 75 in a 55. I locked the brakes on the Suzuki in my attempt to slow down from going too fast. In hindsight, I should have let go of the brakes and coasted past the turn. In my panic, I squeezed harder. The spill was the result of speed plus inexperience. My carelessness had caused the accident and I was lucky to walk away from it. God was in this--I had no doubt about that.
So what was He saying to me in this? It was on Monday, two days after the accident, on my way to work, that the Spirit brought the lesson into focus. First, I had obviously been abusing the gift God had given me for my enjoyment and to bless others. The bike was God's. He had given it to me, for a purpose. I had forgotten that. I was treating this machine like it was mine; like it was mine to spend or squander as I pleased. Wrong. I was acting irresponsibly with what God had given me. I was abusing the tool God had given me. I had begun to form a habit of driving fast on the motorcycle. I had forgotten that I am a steward of his resources, not the master. Like many things in life God entrusts to us, we walk a fine line between using those things for good or abusing them for our own gratification. It's not that God doesn't want us to have fun and enjoy what he's given us, it's that what he's given can be used for good or for evil.
Consider what God gives his children for their enjoyment: music, beauty, food, sexual intimacy, relationships, work, drink, leisure, pleasure--all these are gifts God gives for our delight, much like the Garden of Eden was meant as a place of delight to Adam and Eve. But, like our first parents, we are bent on taking what God has given freely and generously and twisting and distorting those things into addiction, idolotry, self-gratification, weapons and the like. We misuse and abuse.
Legalists would say we have no right to those things because of our propensity to misuse them. The legalist abstains and restricts, in an attempt to control behavior. Opponents to motorcycle joy, say that because motorcycles kill and because they're too easy to misuse, then we should never use them. They tend to hold the same opinion regarding alcohol, music, movies, dancing, etc. Motorcycles do kill when they're abused. Alcohol destroyes when abused. Movies and music and dancing and sex can lead to destructive behaviors when used for purposes other than what God intended. But we can't throw babies out with bathwater, whether they are motorcycles or beers.
The second lesson God is teaching me through all this is that not only is the motorcycle a gift to be used for God's purposes, but that my life and health are gifts given that I dare not take for granted or put at needless risk. Too many people are counting on me being present for life. I have a wife and kids who need me to be present. I have a church community who needs me to be around to contribute what God has for me to contribute. I have friends and associates at work who are counting on me to do my job and fulfill my responsibilities. I am not mine to squander. I am accountable for what I do with my body. I am a temple of the living God and while I am convinced that God loves me to enjoy the blessings of motorcycle riding, He's not pleased when I take my life into my hands and put myself at unnecessary risk.
Yes, riding motorcycles is risky. Anybody who says otherwise is either selling something or is in denial. But many things in life are risky. Loving God is risky. Loving others is risky. Driving a car is risky. Going on a trip is risky. Everything we do involves a certain amount of risk. Every day we unconsciously make risk-assessments to determine what we are willing and not willing to do, based on our internal risk-verses-benefit scale. Those internal risk-assessment monitors are influenced by a number of factors, including our upbringing, our experiences, what others tell us of their experience and how we perceive the world around us.
Everyone takes risks. We just disagree on what is an acceptable amount of risk in light of the perceived benefits. Motorcycle riders take on a certain amount of risk in order to enjoy the benefits of riding. Motorcyclists are comfortable with the risk and do what they can to minimize the risk by wearing protective clothing and gear, and by driving defensively--being very aware of what's going on around them. Motorcyclists are also at peace with those who choose not to ride, as long as the non-riders don't force their risk-aversion on those who do.
So what is God trying to say to you? What areas of your life are not yet under the authority of God? What areas of your life have you taken into your own hands to misuse? Someone said that the more powerful the gift, the more destructive the abuse. Sexual intimacy is a very, very powerful gift God gives married couples for their enjoyment and as an adhesive to hold a marriage together in the storms of life. Sexual intimacy, outside the context for which it was created, is a horrifically destructive force that causes lifetime levels of heart damage, sometimes with eternal consequences. People abuse food. They abuse work. They make relationships become something for which they were not intended.
God used my motorcycle accident as a wake-up call in my life. It was a carefully measured means of discipline, administered in loving grace, to remind me of truths I was disregarding. God allowed me to get hurt, financially and physically, in just the right amount, to get my attention and set me on a path of correction.
What is God trying to say to you? Are you listening? Remember, accidents teach.
Brother Dave
About a week ago, I spent a lovely morning riding the hills around
On the way back to
There are many things an experienced motorcyclist learns over the years on a bike. One, is the importance of the adhesion maintained between the bike tires and the surface of the road. When a bike loses that adhesion, you're in trouble. I braked hard. The rear tire locked up and began to skid, then fish-tail. I knew I was going down when I hit a patch of pea-gravel on the road. In what must have taken just two seconds, I lost control of the bike and splattered on the pavement, bike sliding on its side into a painted "triangle" at the intersection. Oh, crap!
Only a man would understand that my first thought was of the damage I'd done to my beautiful Suzuki. It was lying on its side, windshield busted in a dozen pieces, gas leaking out of the tank, a small debris field trailing 30 feet back up the road. I'd been in this predicament before. It's never pleasant.
When people ask me if I've ever been in a motorcycle accident, I tell them yes, three times: once due to rain, once due to loose gravel and once due to sheer stupidity. I rarely give details about the third accident. My fourth is now feeling a lot like my third.
People gathered around me almost immediately. They wanted to know if I was okay. I wanted to pick up my motorcycle. They wanted to know if I was bleeding. I wanted to find my GPS unit. They wanted to know if they should call 911 for an ambulance. I wanted to know how much repairing my motorcycle was going to cost. They wanted to check me for broken bones. I wanted to check how much paint and metal I left on the pavement.
We all concluded that I was okay, for the most part, though my jacket and ski bibs were shredded in places. My elbow was starting to hurt and I'd probably skinned my knee, but I was reasonably sure that nothing was broken. We finally found the GPS unit, with appeared undamaged and we righted the bike back up on its side stand. My buddies, not finding me up the road, attempted a phone call to my cell phone. I informed them of my accident and asked them to come find me. The eventually did, in spite of the incorrect location I gave them in my confused state. I called my wife, Jeni, to fill her in on what happened.
After determining that I was okay and the bike, surprisingly, was driveable, we left the scene. I limped the bike home on surface streets. It took me about 45 minutes. My left arm was really starting to ache and hurt every time I had to squeeze the clutch lever to shift. My chiropractor later agreed that I had probably hyper-extended my left elbow, damaging the muscles and ligaments that connect up and down my arm. To this day, I have a hard time stretching my arm out straight or bending my elbow to touch my face.
In the midst of all this, I'm having an ongoing conversation with my Father-God, about why this had to happen. My brother, Paul, is always asking me to consider where God is, in the different circumstances I face daily. So, I ask God, what's this all about. "Why did you allow this to happen, Lord?" "What are you trying to tell me, that required this to get my attention?" It's obvious, as I replay the accident in my mind and in my conversations with others, that God protected me incredibly. It could have been much worse. I could have hit a car at that intersection; I could have spun out into traffic. The motorcycle wasn't damaged beyond repair. I sustained no broken bones. "Why, God, did it happen this way?"
Before I write what I believe are the answers to those questions, I need to fill in some of the back story regarding God and me and motorcycles. I bought my first motorcycle, a 1979 Honda CX5oo Custom, not long before my oldest son was born. Jeni was very supportive of the purchase and we saw it as a means of saving money on my commute to work. I owned that bike for about 4 years. My second motorcycle was a large 1981 Honda GL1100, otherwise known as a Goldwing. I rode that until we moved to
As we were preparing for our move from Southern Oregon to
It wasn't until we got settled into our new life here in
My son, Joel, and I began work on that bike immediately and we had it running about two weeks later. God did use that motorcycle to be a blessing to me and my family. I gave many rides to kids and adults alike in that sidecar. Most days I rode it without the sidecar to and from work. I felt God's smile and pleasure as I rode, wind in my face, on the country roads surrounding
This past fall (2008), I asked God if he'd be okay with me trading up to a larger motorcycle. The GL500 was underpowered, especially with the sidecar attached. I wanted a larger motorcycle to haul two adults comfortably on day trips. My children are all getting older and heavier and I needed more power to haul the extra weight. In October, I listed the Silverwing and sidecar on Craigslist at a price God had led us to set. It sold easily. I could have sold it many times over for my asking price. God was in the sale.
Then I began to look for another, larger, motorcycle. I only had the money from the sale of the Silverwing to work with, so I had to find as much motorcycle as I could with what I had to offer. It took about two weeks to find the Suzuki, and once again, God was in the details. I really didn't know what kind of a motorcycle the GSX1100G was, nor was I sure that was the kind of bike I needed to accomplish what God wanted. He made it evident in orchestrating the sale, the pick-up and the affirmation that this was the bike he wanted me to have. I was thrilled. On the ride home, following the transaction, across the
All that to say God had blessed us again, with a beautiful machine, to be used for his glory and our delight. There was one problem: it is a very fast motorcycle. Suzuki took a "crotch rocket" engine and put it on a sport-touring frame. As I began to ride it, I discovered its ability to accelerate very quickly. This bike is by far, the most powerful motorcycle I had ever owned. Abusing that ability became a real temptation.
Back to my accident. As I began to contemplate what God might be saying to me in this situation, I was reminded of the many times, recently, I had well exceeded the speed limit to race along the roads and freeways. I had told myself again and again, that "Just becaus the bike will do 90 (mph) doesn't mean I need to go 90." You'd have to be a guy and a motorcycle rider to understand the temptation to grab a fist-full of throttle and rocket off from an intersection, testing your ability to jump through the motorcycle gears as fast as you can. It's fun, it's adrenalin-inducing, it's dangerous, it's exhilerating. Speed is addictive.
Moments before my crash alongside Georgia Hwy 27, I had been doing 75 in a 55. I locked the brakes on the Suzuki in my attempt to slow down from going too fast. In hindsight, I should have let go of the brakes and coasted past the turn. In my panic, I squeezed harder. The spill was the result of speed plus inexperience. My carelessness had caused the accident and I was lucky to walk away from it. God was in this--I had no doubt about that.
So what was He saying to me in this? It was on Monday, two days after the accident, on my way to work, that the Spirit brought the lesson into focus. First, I had obviously been abusing the gift God had given me for my enjoyment and to bless others. The bike was God's. He had given it to me, for a purpose. I had forgotten that. I was treating this machine like it was mine; like it was mine to spend or squander as I pleased. Wrong. I was acting irresponsibly with what God had given me. I was abusing the tool God had given me. I had begun to form a habit of driving fast on the motorcycle. I had forgotten that I am a steward of his resources, not the master. Like many things in life God entrusts to us, we walk a fine line between using those things for good or abusing them for our own gratification. It's not that God doesn't want us to have fun and enjoy what he's given us, it's that what he's given can be used for good or for evil.
Consider what God gives his children for their enjoyment: music, beauty, food, sexual intimacy, relationships, work, drink, leisure, pleasure--all these are gifts God gives for our delight, much like the Garden of Eden was meant as a place of delight to Adam and Eve. But, like our first parents, we are bent on taking what God has given freely and generously and twisting and distorting those things into addiction, idolotry, self-gratification, weapons and the like. We misuse and abuse.
Legalists would say we have no right to those things because of our propensity to misuse them. The legalist abstains and restricts, in an attempt to control behavior. Opponents to motorcycle joy, say that because motorcycles kill and because they're too easy to misuse, then we should never use them. They tend to hold the same opinion regarding alcohol, music, movies, dancing, etc. Motorcycles do kill when they're abused. Alcohol destroyes when abused. Movies and music and dancing and sex can lead to destructive behaviors when used for purposes other than what God intended. But we can't throw babies out with bathwater, whether they are motorcycles or beers.
The second lesson God is teaching me through all this is that not only is the motorcycle a gift to be used for God's purposes, but that my life and health are gifts given that I dare not take for granted or put at needless risk. Too many people are counting on me being present for life. I have a wife and kids who need me to be present. I have a church community who needs me to be around to contribute what God has for me to contribute. I have friends and associates at work who are counting on me to do my job and fulfill my responsibilities. I am not mine to squander. I am accountable for what I do with my body. I am a temple of the living God and while I am convinced that God loves me to enjoy the blessings of motorcycle riding, He's not pleased when I take my life into my hands and put myself at unnecessary risk.
Yes, riding motorcycles is risky. Anybody who says otherwise is either selling something or is in denial. But many things in life are risky. Loving God is risky. Loving others is risky. Driving a car is risky. Going on a trip is risky. Everything we do involves a certain amount of risk. Every day we unconsciously make risk-assessments to determine what we are willing and not willing to do, based on our internal risk-verses-benefit scale. Those internal risk-assessment monitors are influenced by a number of factors, including our upbringing, our experiences, what others tell us of their experience and how we perceive the world around us.
Everyone takes risks. We just disagree on what is an acceptable amount of risk in light of the perceived benefits. Motorcycle riders take on a certain amount of risk in order to enjoy the benefits of riding. Motorcyclists are comfortable with the risk and do what they can to minimize the risk by wearing protective clothing and gear, and by driving defensively--being very aware of what's going on around them. Motorcyclists are also at peace with those who choose not to ride, as long as the non-riders don't force their risk-aversion on those who do.
So what is God trying to say to you? What areas of your life are not yet under the authority of God? What areas of your life have you taken into your own hands to misuse? Someone said that the more powerful the gift, the more destructive the abuse. Sexual intimacy is a very, very powerful gift God gives married couples for their enjoyment and as an adhesive to hold a marriage together in the storms of life. Sexual intimacy, outside the context for which it was created, is a horrifically destructive force that causes lifetime levels of heart damage, sometimes with eternal consequences. People abuse food. They abuse work. They make relationships become something for which they were not intended.
God used my motorcycle accident as a wake-up call in my life. It was a carefully measured means of discipline, administered in loving grace, to remind me of truths I was disregarding. God allowed me to get hurt, financially and physically, in just the right amount, to get my attention and set me on a path of correction.
What is God trying to say to you? Are you listening? Remember, accidents teach.
Brother Dave
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Shepherd, Warrior, King
Some of you may be wondering about the title I've chosen for this blog.
It comes from a variety of streams God has blended in my life in recent years. First, of course, is the fact that Jesus Christ is The Good Shepherd. He's also referred to in Scripture as the Deliverer and warrior, inaugurating the Kingdom of God by breaking in on this present evil age. Jesus' arrival on the planet was an act of war and his Second Coming will be to take what is rightfully his. Jesus is also given the title King of Kings and Lord of Lords. So, as a follower of Jesus, my life grows more and more like him. I take on his role as his ambassador. I serve others by following Jesus shepherding lost sheep, by fighting against the enemy and by extending his rule and reign in every aspect of my life and throughout my sphere of influence.
The second stream that influences this title, shepherd-warrior-king, is my namesake, King David of the Old Testament. For years I thought I had been named after my father's college roommate, Dave Imbach. Now he's a noble fellow, a pastor, and yes, my parents liked his name; but my mother insists that they named me after King David of old. King David was Israel's most famous monarch. He is know for his defeat of the giant, Goliath. Under his command, Israel conquered the surrounding nations. King David brought peace to all the borders of his kingdom. He wasn't perfect--his failings are legendary--but he is held up as one of the greatest Kings in Israel's history. He was a great song writer. He worshipped God with abandon. And, he's honored as both an ancestor and type of the coming Messiah and the Kigndom of God.
But David didn't start out as either warrior or king, but shepherd. The Old Testament narrative of David's life suggests that much of his strength, faith and character was developed in the years he tended sheep. It wasn't a noble job. It was probably a task left for the servants. David was not very highly regarded in his boyhood years, particularly by his father and brothers. However, it's his heart that God approves of. When the prophet, Samuel, was preparing to anoint one of the sons of Jesse as the new king, God says very clearly, "Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart." And later in life, David becomes know as "beloved of God" and "a man after God's own heart."
I can't think of a more noble character to pattern my life after. Can you? I long to hear God say to me, "you are a man after my own heart." Wouldn't you?
The third contributing stream is the insight into life in Christ from the pen of John Eldredge. Eldredge has written a number of books regarding the heart of a man. I like the way John has recovered the lost hearts of men, by reminding them of who they are and why God made males the way He did. If it's possible to be mentored by a man one has never met in person, then I have been mentored by John Eldredge through his writings, his videos and more recently, his podcasts.
In his book, Wild at Heart, Eldredge suggests that part of our journey with God includes hearing from God what he thinks of us. God has a unique name for us that's tied to our character and purpose, just like Jesus' name is more than just a label given to him by his parents. So, Eldredge suggests, we ask God what what name He has given us. Who are we to Him? In a moment of quiet reflection, I asked God what name he's given me. The answer came back almost immediately, "Shepherd." I wasn't too sure I had heard correctly, so I filed it away in a safe place in my heart. Months later, I was telling Jeni about my experience. That's when she said that she knew my name too. God had spoken it to her some time before. Shepherd.
I put two and two together. God's name for me is "Shepherd." King David was a shepherd. I was intentionally named after King David. Are there possible parallels between my life and King David's? Do I resonate with the things he did? What would it mean if God were calling me to rise up into the name and role of my namesake? Could it be that God is calling me to the role of a shepherd, a warrior, a worshiper and king as well?
I finally put it all together after reading John Eldredge's book, The Way of the Wild Heart. In the book, John outlines the life of a man and the stages he goes through into adulthood and beyond. Two of the stages are warrior and king. Every man has a battle to fight. Every man of God knows the battleground is the hearts of men and women. I resonate with God's desire to rescue his people and set the captives free. The king stage in a man's life is when he arrives at the pinnacle of his career or the role of leadership God calls him into. It's the season of his greatest influence over others. Senior pastors, CEO's, military commanders, senior partners are all examples of a man's kingship. While I'm not there yet, I believe one day that God will call me into a leadership role he's prepared for me and prepared me for. That may be in this life or the age to come, but I believe it will come. So I aspire, like King David, to be the best leader I can be under the authority of my King and Savior, Jesus Christ. I see my life now as a season of preparation for God's purposes.
I shepherd people entrusted to my care by God at church and at work
I fight along with my King, to see people set free and the Kingdom of God to come.
One day I will reign with Christ, in his authority, in this age or the age to come.
I am Shepherd, Warrior, King
It comes from a variety of streams God has blended in my life in recent years. First, of course, is the fact that Jesus Christ is The Good Shepherd. He's also referred to in Scripture as the Deliverer and warrior, inaugurating the Kingdom of God by breaking in on this present evil age. Jesus' arrival on the planet was an act of war and his Second Coming will be to take what is rightfully his. Jesus is also given the title King of Kings and Lord of Lords. So, as a follower of Jesus, my life grows more and more like him. I take on his role as his ambassador. I serve others by following Jesus shepherding lost sheep, by fighting against the enemy and by extending his rule and reign in every aspect of my life and throughout my sphere of influence.
The second stream that influences this title, shepherd-warrior-king, is my namesake, King David of the Old Testament. For years I thought I had been named after my father's college roommate, Dave Imbach. Now he's a noble fellow, a pastor, and yes, my parents liked his name; but my mother insists that they named me after King David of old. King David was Israel's most famous monarch. He is know for his defeat of the giant, Goliath. Under his command, Israel conquered the surrounding nations. King David brought peace to all the borders of his kingdom. He wasn't perfect--his failings are legendary--but he is held up as one of the greatest Kings in Israel's history. He was a great song writer. He worshipped God with abandon. And, he's honored as both an ancestor and type of the coming Messiah and the Kigndom of God.
But David didn't start out as either warrior or king, but shepherd. The Old Testament narrative of David's life suggests that much of his strength, faith and character was developed in the years he tended sheep. It wasn't a noble job. It was probably a task left for the servants. David was not very highly regarded in his boyhood years, particularly by his father and brothers. However, it's his heart that God approves of. When the prophet, Samuel, was preparing to anoint one of the sons of Jesse as the new king, God says very clearly, "Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart." And later in life, David becomes know as "beloved of God" and "a man after God's own heart."
I can't think of a more noble character to pattern my life after. Can you? I long to hear God say to me, "you are a man after my own heart." Wouldn't you?
The third contributing stream is the insight into life in Christ from the pen of John Eldredge. Eldredge has written a number of books regarding the heart of a man. I like the way John has recovered the lost hearts of men, by reminding them of who they are and why God made males the way He did. If it's possible to be mentored by a man one has never met in person, then I have been mentored by John Eldredge through his writings, his videos and more recently, his podcasts.
In his book, Wild at Heart, Eldredge suggests that part of our journey with God includes hearing from God what he thinks of us. God has a unique name for us that's tied to our character and purpose, just like Jesus' name is more than just a label given to him by his parents. So, Eldredge suggests, we ask God what what name He has given us. Who are we to Him? In a moment of quiet reflection, I asked God what name he's given me. The answer came back almost immediately, "Shepherd." I wasn't too sure I had heard correctly, so I filed it away in a safe place in my heart. Months later, I was telling Jeni about my experience. That's when she said that she knew my name too. God had spoken it to her some time before. Shepherd.
I put two and two together. God's name for me is "Shepherd." King David was a shepherd. I was intentionally named after King David. Are there possible parallels between my life and King David's? Do I resonate with the things he did? What would it mean if God were calling me to rise up into the name and role of my namesake? Could it be that God is calling me to the role of a shepherd, a warrior, a worshiper and king as well?
I finally put it all together after reading John Eldredge's book, The Way of the Wild Heart. In the book, John outlines the life of a man and the stages he goes through into adulthood and beyond. Two of the stages are warrior and king. Every man has a battle to fight. Every man of God knows the battleground is the hearts of men and women. I resonate with God's desire to rescue his people and set the captives free. The king stage in a man's life is when he arrives at the pinnacle of his career or the role of leadership God calls him into. It's the season of his greatest influence over others. Senior pastors, CEO's, military commanders, senior partners are all examples of a man's kingship. While I'm not there yet, I believe one day that God will call me into a leadership role he's prepared for me and prepared me for. That may be in this life or the age to come, but I believe it will come. So I aspire, like King David, to be the best leader I can be under the authority of my King and Savior, Jesus Christ. I see my life now as a season of preparation for God's purposes.
I shepherd people entrusted to my care by God at church and at work
I fight along with my King, to see people set free and the Kingdom of God to come.
One day I will reign with Christ, in his authority, in this age or the age to come.
I am Shepherd, Warrior, King
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