The Magic Moment

As I write, dusk has begun to turn to dark, and the remains of the day are fading over the horizon. I am on the front porch, drinking in the mystical transition from day to night. I love this moment in summer evenings, this laying to rest of one world, and the awakening of another. I'm captivated by it, year after year, here in the heart of the old South.
In late June to early July, the fading light of day can still be observed as late as 9:30-45pm. The transition is palpable. The birds begin to quiet down, the squirrels and chipmunks have turned in for the night, and a subtle yet amazing transition occurs. The songs of birds are quietly replaced with the songs of crickets and cicadas, the bees in the trees are replaced with sparkling, dancing fireflies, and the frenzied activities of various diminutive, bushy-tailed mammalia are replaced with the croaks and peeps of frogs and toads. In fact, a little green tree frog just hopped onto our front door glass and has begun to scale it upward, under the watchful eye of the cats from behind the door.
Sitting in silence here, my ears filled with the night sounds, my eyes filled with the sight of our front property awash in fireflies, I am speechless in the experience. A phrase I've used before is "hints of Heaven, glimpses of glory." It certainly is.
Life is so hurried so often, I've lost focus on trying to immerse myself in these fleeting moments. It's time to recapture the wonder again, the peace of just being in it, and the reverent intimacy of worshiping the Creator of it all. The King of Kings and Lord of Lords. The God of summer storms and fireflies, the Giver of gentle evening breezes and green tree frogs.

Perilous Speeds

Last weekend, my CMA group rode to north Georgia and did a little "Ministry on the Mountain" as we called it. We had packed water bottles, a collapsible cooler, plenty of Gospel tracts and "bike blessing" stickers, and rode up to the Richard B Russell Scenic Highway, above Cleveland. It was the near-perfect day- not too hot, enough cloud cover and breeze to keep cool, and plenty of riders out on the roads. We set up atop the parkway at a scenic overlook and soon, riders were turning in and out, while riding up and down the road. We had plenty of opportunities to strike up conversations, to offer water, and to pray for riders as they pulled in. Several of our guys shared their stories of salvation with folks, and it really turned into a great day.
At times, different groups of us took turns making runs up and down the parkway, while others stayed at the overlook. Three of our guys took off to ride it, followed by me and a newer member. We rode pretty brisk, but rode safe, and had a great time. As we got near the bottom, I noticed a group of bikes off the right side of a left-turning curve. Slowing down, we recognized a couple of our guys, but one was missing. Pulling over, we discovered our missing member was in fact, down the embankment about 10 feet. We rushed over and down to help, fearing the worst.
He had come out of the last curve, accelerated hard (well over 100mph), but over cooked this curve, and went wide into a small patch of roadside gravel. The path of the bike was clear- right off the road, down the embankment, into a creek. Amazingly, he was completely unhurt. The bike was fairly mangled, but he was not. Amen. He had wisely armored himself head-to-toe, so that definitely helped. Also amazing was the path he took sliding out. He narrowly missed a large, iron-rebar mailbox, and both bike and rider stopped just short of a telephone pole in the ditch. He had an angel on his shoulder, no doubt.
Serveral other riders stopped to help, and we collectively wrestled the bike back up the steep embankment. The bike was unrideable, so we stayed with him until some help could come carry him and his disabled bike back home. We prayed over him, thanking God he was (miraculously) unhurt, and he openly confessed he was going far too fast. A lesson learned, albeit the hard way.
As each of us rode for home, we took it noticeably slower, more cautious. I had also made note of another factor that contributed to our guy's "off"- he had been running on nearly bald tires, front and rear. Never good. It reminded me to always armor-up, insure the bike is in top shape, and ride wisely. Accidents on a motorcycle can happen in the blink of an eye, and can be catastrophic.
Have fun, but use your cranium for more than a helmet hanger.

Exploring New Roads

After I'd finished teaching my classes today, I dropped my gear at the house and decided to take advantage of the beautiful afternoon. I suited up and threw a leg over the Truimph, heading south through the countryside. I found some roads I had never ridden before, and turned off to explore. Getting lost in a "cage" is irritating; getting lost on a motorcycle is enjoyable. I wandered down country slivers of asphalt, by horse ranches, cattle fields, and farm land. I found some fun, twisty roads, over hills and through wooded stretches.

As a blanket of clouds pulled over above me, and the sun sank and faded behind the cover, I turned back toward home, meandering my way north back toward Dacula. I reflected how exploring new roads is much like new directions in life. "New" can be a little scary, but also thrilling. Never really knowing what to expect around the next corner can create caution and fear in our hearts. But if we move forward and "lean into the curves" of life, not recklessly but with calm and confidence, the unknown can bring unexpected wonders and exciting experiences.

God has not called us to lives of fear and isolation, afraid to take risks to avoid potential consequences. He has "given us everything we need for life and godliness", and He "has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and a sound mind." I want to live life like I ride- exploring and enjoying the ride, scenery, and experiences.

A Personal Loss

This morning I awoke to a shocking and saddening (to me) discovery- Molly, my pet ball python, had died overnight. I had spent a couple of hours Sunday afternoon with her wrapped around my arms or neck, carrying her around while I went about the day, as I often do. She enjoyed time out of the aquarium, and I had her out nearly every day. She was about to shed soon, so I had prepared a warm solution to soak her in overnight, with a warm heating pad underneath, as I have regularly done as well. This has always helped her shed old skin more readily. I'm still not completely sure what happened, but when I went to check on her this morning, I found her dead in the container I use. It shocked and saddened me. I buried her out by the back of our property, grieving over her death, and blaming myself for whatever may have gone wrong.

We've had Molly for about 9 years. I first purchased her at a reptile show, my daughter Ansley with me. She was small, about 10 inches long, and brilliantly colorful. When the breeder handed her to me, she curled up in my palm and relaxed. Ansley instantly said, "Dad, let's buy her! She's perfect!" And we did. Ansley held her on the way home, and she and Kelsey, my younger daughter, both decided on her name, Molly.

Over the years, I've shown her to friends, helped people overcome their fear of snakes by holding her, brought her to churches and classrooms as an example of God's amazing design in creation, or to illustrate various Bible stories. Molly has always been a very gentle, comfortable, compliant participant. Most often, she was simply content to wrap around my neck, flitting her tongue on my ears or crawling up through my hair while around the house.

I know snakes don't have the emotional responses to their owners that dogs or cats have. But I'm convinced they develop a familiarity with their owners/handlers, and I saw that evident every time I took her out for handling. I certainly was attached to her.

So I know Molly was "just a snake", but she was a family pet, and I'm grieving over her tonight. I'm also thankful for the years God allowed me and my family to enjoy her, as well as the countless children and students over the years who have enjoyed her as well.

Back to Bikes

After nine months of dealing with cancer, chemo, and various other health-related issues, coupled with the new opportunities God has given me with teaching and the 127 Legacy Foundation, I've come back around to what I started doing two years ago. This past weekend, I purchased a non-running motorcycle from our UPS guy, a bike I've wanted to get my hands on for over a year, a 1981 Yamaha Seca 550. I'm excited, to say the least!

The tank is rusted inside pretty bad, the carbs need removal and a complete cleaning, the front brake needs to be rebuilt, and a few other minor issues. But there is much potential. It is complete, has been custom painted with factory Ferrari Red, and now from what I read online and was informed by a local motorcycle shop, its a bit of a rare bike, a collectors item. Very few of these are still intact and roadworthy. Enthusiasts are looking for them. Again, I was excited to find that out as well!

I am thankful that God opened this opportunity to me again. Its been a difficult year, and to finish it with a new bike project in the basement is one of His gifts to me, I am sure. and I am thankful. Looking forward to God's leadership and blessings in 2015.

Broken Peg

The other day while riding the Triumph back from a physical therapy appointment up in Buford, I stopped in at Northeast Georgia Motorsports outside Hoschton. After picking up a set of "Snow Paws" for my handlebars, I geared up for the remaining ride home. Their parking lot has a pretty steep grade to it, and I had backed in to more easily angle up and out upon departure. As I turned the bars right and began to let out the clutch and roll forward on the incline, suddenly the bike popped out of gear into neutral, and I quickly fumbled to get back in gear. The combination of my slow forward momentum, combined with the bars angled to the right, and my attempt to put my right foot down to steady (and finding the pavement sloping away from me), conspired to slowly tip the bike over to the right. Unable to hold up the top-heavy bike on the incline at that angle, I did my best to wrestle it down gently, to cause as little damage as possible. Immediately one of the dealership personnel rushed out to help me lift the Sprint and get it back on the side stand. He found the broken peg laying there, and after assessing the rest of the damage (a minor scrape on the fairing and on the header), I thanked him and remounted to ride home.
There was precious little to prop my foot on going home, and upon arrival I immediately began searching for a replacement part. I couldn't believe it had happened. Just the previous week, while out riding the Royal Star on another rare nice day, I tipped it over to the left at an inclined stop sign, by stalling out suddenly while attempting to accelerate away. I was not in 1st gear as normal, but had inadvertently still been in 2nd. The bike lurched and stalled, and since I was turning left, the bike just tipped that way, rocking over on the highway bars. No harm there, just embarrassment. I tipped it back up (using the proper technique), and rode off. It happened about 2 months ago too, leaving a CMA meeting one Saturday morning.
What has been going on with me? I go years and years without tipping bikes over, then it happens multiple times, in quick succession, with both bikes! Have I really lost that much strength over the past year/half? I was thinking maybe I need lighter bikes the older I get. But I love these "big heavies", and am usually quite used to their feel. Its just a good reminder to be careful with these machines, whether at speed on the roads, or in a parking lot moving slow.
Found and ordered a replacement foot peg assembly on BikeBandit.com, so I can get back on "Mathilda" as soon as possible...

By the Light of the Moon

The other night I attended a dinner with my old friends from the Spirit Riders motorcycle group. It was out at a restaurant in Auburn, GA, and I knew some nice back country roads to take there, so I rode the Triumph. As I was riding, the full moon was peaking up over the tree line in front of me, casting its beautiful, white glow over the landscape. I was awestruck, basking in the pale light as I rode along. I slowed my pace, took my time, no longer in a hurry to reach the restaurant. I gave thanks to the Lord for the indescribable beauty and peace of the moonlit evening, and the ability and health to be out relishing it.
I arrived at the restaurant, and enjoyed a wonderful evening with my old riding companions. As we all suited up for our respective journeys home, the moon was much higher in the sky, now shining more directly down on us. I decided to take the long way home, even though the temperature was dropping. As I rode in the moon glow, the breezes were blowing leaves off the trees across my path, and I noticed each one caught some of the light from above as it flitted down. Its hard to describe the visual. I had never seen, or at least never noticed, such elegance under a full moon in autumn. I rode in silent worship, impervious to the cold, just soaking in the transcendent moments.
Autumn colors, cool breezes, clear skies, and the light of a full moon. "The heavens declare the glory of God, the skies proclaim the works of His hands." -Psalm 19:1

How the Beast was Awakened

Earlier today, while riding back from a doctor's appointment in Snellville, I took the long way home on my Triumph. Passing southeast of town, I rode back country roads by pasturelands and wooded communities. Suddenly I found myself at an old familiar place on Rosebud Road, that brought back vivid memories for me. In 1996, I was driving this same road, and came upon a motorcycle at the end of a long driveway, with a "For Sale" sign on it. The bike, a Honda V65 Magna (of the type pictured above), was beautiful- shiny black and chrome, with gold lettering and striping. Looked showroom condition. I was struck by the bike, pulled over to "gawk and drool" over it, and found myself intentionally finding reasons to drive by it again and again over the subsequent week. Then one day, it was gone.
I had grown up around motorcycles, as I describe in my book, "Road Dirt", available on Amazon Books and Amazon Kindle (http://www.amazon.com/Road-Dirt-Musings-Ramblings-Preacher/dp/1492360104/ref=sr_1_1/188-0280032-0865122?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1411424332&sr=1-1&keywords=road+dirt+the+musings+%26+ramblings). Seeing this bike "awakened the beast" in me, so to speak, and I started back on the journey toward the world of motorcycling. I've since owned a Suzuki VS800 Intruder, a Yamaha Royal Star (still have it), a Kawasaki ZR-7s, a Triumph Sprint 955 ST (still have it too), and various others I have bought & sold. I've ridden north/south/east/west across America, logging thousands upon thousands of miles over the years. Riding has brought me many friendships, many treasured memories, and many opportunities to share and live out my faith in Christ with others. It's been a great ride, for sure (pun intended).
And to think it all started with a small roadside encounter in 1996...

Birthday Reflections

I turned another year older this week, 51 on Monday. It was a quiet time, no big party with cake, ice cream, presents, etc. Lisa, Kelsey and her boyfriend took me out to dinner the night before, so I spent Monday relaxing, got a massage the girls had bought for me, prepared to teach my Tuesday classes, and of course, took a motorcycle ride. Not a bad way to spend the beginning of my 51st year.
I am reflecting on the last 12 months, and all that has transpired. Last September, I was mostly recovered from two surgeries, a spinal neck surgery and a knee one. I took a 8-day road trip with a childhood friend, and spent the fall doing various things to earn a living, while still seeking the Lord about what He might have me do since leaving the full-time vocational ministry.
As 2014 began, my health went suddenly off the rails, with high blood pressure, anxiety attacks, and the discovery of an enlarged ventricle in my heart. Then by March came the discovery of bladder cancer and the subsequent surgery and chemo treatments. I've since had a colonoscopy which removed a precancerous polyp, and have been unable to put weight back on since losing 20 pounds after the cancer bout. Doctors now suspect hyperthyroid issues. Great. Another malady. All this with a guy who always felt like the picture of health.
My "half century" year was rough. Not the way I had anticipated beginning my 50s. And yet, more than the infirmities, I will recall my 50th year as one of great intimacy with and blessings from the Lord. I clung to Him and His promises in Scripture like never before, and God spoke to me in ways I will always cherish. He provided for my family's needs by miraculous means, that I'd only heard or read about in other's lives. In that sense, 50 was an amazing year that I praise God for. So as begin my 51st year, I am hopeful- for God to continue to heal me or give me peace in the midst of whatever I may face, for His leadership into new opportunities to serve His Kingdom, and for His continued protection and provision for my family. I look forward to all He will teach me this year, and the ways He will use me to be a blessing to others.
"Bless the Lord, oh my soul, and forget not all His benefits..." Psalm 103:2

Its been too long since I've posted anything here, but its been a whirlwind of a summer. I've since been asked to teach full-time at Dacula Classical Academy, teaching Biblical World History to high schoolers and then a Books of the Old Testament class to 4th-5th graders on Fridays. I'm enjoying this new experience of being a teacher, although it is somewhat different than being a pastor. Many of these students were once kids in my children's ministry when I was serving at Hebron Baptist, and grew up knowing me as "Mr. Rob." Now as their teacher, though they still call me by that name, and the ones who did not know me back then call me "Mr. Brooks", the relationship has changed. They are required to come to my classes, they must take notes and pay attention, turn in homework and various assignments, and take tests and quizzes I give them. We don't do fun music and games together, don't show entertaining videos or funny skits, and they don't come rushing in or linger after to talk with me. Yet, I understand they are on a school schedule here to get between classes, the subject matter is more advanced and academic than when they were younger, and of course, they are teenagers!
So I'm adjusting to life as a school teacher. In truth, I enjoy my role at this school- teaching world history beginning with Creation in Genesis, and moving forward with a Biblical worldview of history. I'm incorporating elements I utilized back when I used to preach on Genesis, and the discussions we are having are very rich. I hope the students are learning and enjoying our classes together. I certainly am.
The road God has led me down since leaving full-time vocational ministry last year has been a winding, at times rocky, journey. But He has guided me every step of the way, has provided for my family in ways I could have never imagined, and I've known His presence in deeper ways than ever before in my life. It has not been easy- income loss, injury, surgeries, cancer and chemo, new career paths, to name a few. But following my Lord has been worth it all, and I know will continue to be.
Still on the road,

So now we are halfway through the summer, mid-July. The cancer is gone, two months of chemo is over, and I am left to recover. I lost 20 lbs over the course of the symptoms, cancer, surgery and treatments, and I'm trying to put some of it back on. The whole ordeal sapped my strength, stamina, and muscle tone, and I still struggle to sleep through the nights. Bit by bit though, a little every day, I am regaining my health. We are eating healthier, and starting to exercise again, as my strength allows. My doctors have been the best, my wife, girls, and extended family (mine and Lisa's) have been beside me, friends have been faithful to pray for and encourage me, and most of all, God has been my "All-Sufficient One", supplying our every need according to His riches in glory (Philippians 4:19).
I've been asked to be the executive director of a new non-profit organization, the 127 Legacy Foundation, dedicated to raising awareness and support for Christian orphanages across the islands of Indonesia. Dr Abraham, our family physician and Lisa's employer, is the founder, and it's an honor to help grow this new ministry. I'm still writing for several motorcycle and ministry magazines, my book is still selling on Amazon, and I'm still among the pastors with Phoenix Community of Atlanta. I now have the opportunity this fall to teach part-time at a local Christian fine arts school, known as Dacula Classical Academy.
God is good, blessing me with work as my health returns, and I'm learning to savor the now, and not fret over the next. I'm thankful and I'm blessed, more than I deserve.

Life Changes

Much has transpired in my life since I last posted to this blog. The physical problems of January and February (spiking blood pressure, anxiety attacks, hyperthyroid problems, etc.) were only warning bells to a greater condition, discovered the first week of March- bladder cancer.
As I wrote in my other blog, a 2" malignant tumor was discovered in my bladder. It was safely and completely removed, pathology reports later confirmed no trace of it remained, and yet I am in the midst of a six-week preventative chemotherapy treatment to reduce the chances of any return. It has been the ride of my life, no doubt- a ride I'd have rather not taken, but found myself on anyway. God has been good to me though, as I am aware it could have been so much worse. It could have spread, could have been a more aggressive strain, could have been another, more deadly type altogether. I am thankful, in the midst of it all.
I have found myself, on days when I am able to take a motorcycle ride, much more aware of the small blessings all around me- the smell of spring flowers as I pass them roadside, the feel of slight temperature changes in and out of shade, the sounds of birds singing, the warmth of the sun on my face or neck, the feel of the wind in my face, and the people I get to meet wherever I find myself. Life is precious, sweet, and worth savoring each moment of.
God has been, and continues to be, very good to me. Whatever lies ahead, wherever the road leads, I know Who guides me, Who has me, and I will trust and not be afraid. Psalm 23

A Psalm of Hope

After a difficult week of snow and ice, stress and blood pressure issues, the weather broke enough to take an afternoon motorcycle ride. I felt the tension leaving my body and mind as I rode into the setting February sun. The temperatures were low 50s, the roads dry after days of snow and black ice. A near perfect day for a two-wheeled cruise.
I rode up on a favorite location not far from our home, a large cattle ranch with rolling hills and a creek running through the middle. I felt the sudden urge to pull over, snap a couple of photos, and I found myself reciting Psalm 23-

The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures;
He leads me beside quiet waters.
He restores my soul;
He guides me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I fear no evil, for You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and lovingkindness will follow me all the days of my life,
And I will dwell in the house of The Lord forever.

The moment was holy, as I felt the presence of God meet me there, on the side of the road, the sun setting over the fields, as I spoke aloud those beautiful, historic words. David must have penned the words looking out across a similar scene, and felt the same Presence I did, thousands of years ago. I felt a kinship with David, despite all these miles and years separating us. The same wonder and awe, the same faith, in the same God.
And the God who watched over him, watches over me.

News in the New Year

 

I've not posted anything since the middle of December, as the past month was a whirlwind of activity. After a wonderful Christmas, we spent the week after Christmas replacing all of our water lines, which had ruptured somewhere on the property. Then with the new year, we experienced single-digit freezing temps, so those new pipes were put to the test.
We also began our first home group for the new Phoenix Community of Grayson church plant, which we hope to open sometime in February or March. Talks are ongoing with a possible location for worship gatherings.
In the meantime, I've officially rejoined Christian Motorcyclists Assn., which I was a member of back in the 1990s. As we began a mid-week community Bible study at my friends the Landwer's home, many of the local CMA Kneebenders folks have been attending. I am enjoying my new friends, enjoying our time opening God's Word together, and excited to see where all of this leads. Who knows? We might have the makings of a "biker church"- or least, a biker-friendly church!
CMA's vision of reaching the lost, hurting, and disconnected in the biker community meshes well with the Phoenix Community vision to reach those disconnected from Christ and His Church. I'm not surprised so many in CMA relate to the Phoenix vision. Reaching the lost together with the love of Christ, and equipping them to be disciples of Christ who make other disciples of Christ- 2014 could be an interesting year!

New Bike Projects

My parents came up for a few days, so we enjoyed an early Christmas together, as they will be leaving for Texas this week to spend some time with my brother Rick and his family. Dad has been helping me with a couple of bikes I've come by recently, a 96 Honda Nighthawk 750 (shown here) and a 97 ATK 260 dirt bike. I always enjoy the time with them, and the help my dad gives in working on bikes is always invaluable to me. We had the Nighthawk all assembled, everything back together, hooked up a battery and gave it some gas. After a couple of coughs, it fired right up! Yet almost instantly, we discovered fuel leaking out from under the carbs, and ended up tearing it right back down to remove the carbs, then totally dismantle them, to replace a set of tiny O-rings that had gone bad. Painstaking, meticulous, time-consuming job, and the local Honda had to order the parts! So even though we had it together and running, it is now back apart, while we await the arrival of the O-rings. Frustrating? Yes. Still enjoyed the time with my folks? Absolutely.
Hey, they both will be back on Tuesday, so if the rings come in by then, we still may get this finished for someone before Christmas! Here's hoping...

CMA at IMS

I spent part of Sunday afternoon at the annual International Motorcycle Show at the Cobb Galleria Centre. What a show it was! All the major manufacturers were there, with examples of their 2014 lines on display. "Motorcycle Heaven", if there ever was one.
I had not planned to go this year, as our eldest daughter Ansley was in town for the weekend. Yet several of my CMA (Christian Motorcyclist Assn.) friends had urged me to come join them, as CMA had a large booth set up. Lisa said they were going to do a little shopping, so I should go. I rode over, took in the show, and hung out with these guys while there. Glad I did.
I've actually been a CMA member since about 1998, but didn't ride with them much during the 2000's. As a pastor at Hebron, I rode with the church group, the Spirit Riders, a great bunch of folks. Now that I am gone from Hebron, I really don't ride with them much anymore. The members in two local CMA chapters, CrossTies (where my old membership was) and KneeBenders (a sport bike chapter) have reached out to me, welcomed me, and given me a new riding group home. I've fallen in with another great bunch of folks.
Doors close, but new ones open. I look forward to great riding years ahead, with my CMA brothers and sisters.

Half Century Road Trip

Last weekend I completed an epic road trip with my childhood friend Lyle Branton. We both are now 50 years old, and planned to motorcycle ride across the southern states, with specific objectives being riding the scenic Natchez Trace Parkway end to end, and riding across the entire panhandle of Florida beach front.
We met up north of Atlanta on Sunday, September 22, and rode through the foothills of north Georgia, through the beautiful valley of Chattanooga, then across the remaining Appalachians to Nashville. Tent camping for the night by a pristine lake, we rode west Monday to the north terminus of the Parkway, first enjoying the food and country music nostalgia of the famed Loveless Café. Then we started down our first stretch of the Parkway.
The Natchez Trace Parkway is approximately 444 miles long, winding through the hill country of Tennessee, down through the northwest corner of Alabama, then all the way across Mississippi to Natchez. We rode as far as Tishomingo, and made camp in a state park, again on a beautiful lake with the moon rising over the waters. We awoke to grey skies and drizzle on Tuesday, and got as far as Tupelo before hard rain forced us to hold up in a gas station/barbeque joint for two hours. When the worst had passed over the Parkway, we continued on, still in rain, but by the time we arrived in Jackson, the storm has cleared. We dried out in a hotel that night, and hit the road Wednesday morning in clear skies and warm temps to complete our journey down the Parkway. Finally reaching the famed road's southern terminus, we celebrated in Natchez with tamales at the local fave, Fat Mama's. After a some photos down by the Mississippi River, we blasted east across the state on Hwy 98, making for Mobile, AL, for an evening with my friend Greg Sweatt's dad.
Our journey along coastline began as we crossed Mobile Bay bridge at sunset. The colors in the sky were unlike any I had ever seen- all the pastels of the color palette were present, from bright gold of the setting sun, to brilliant orange, red, purple, various blues, even green, all reflected in the glass-like surface of the bay. Breathtaking. We spent a wonderful evening and Thursday morning with Mr. Sweatt, then loaded up and ran south through Fair Hope, then Foley, Gulf Shores, Orange Beach, and on into Florida. We passed through Perdido Key, where my sister-in-law had a condo for several years, then Pensacola, Fort Walton, Destin, and made camp just off the beach at Topsail Hills State Park.
Friday we rode through Seaside, Laguna Beach, then Panama City. Finally beyond the tourism part of the Panhandle, we rode beachfront through quaint little coastal and fishing towns, around the "Big Bend" of what locals call "Old Florida". This was to be my favorite leg of our whole ride. Mexico Beach, Port St. Joe, Apalachicola, Eastpoint and Carabella, all with vistas out across Panhandle islands, peninsulas and keys. We crossed towering bridges over wide expanses of water, beheld tidal flats and rocky shorelines, under deep blue skies. I rode much of Big Bend in silent worship, unable to speak or even listen to music. The beauty was indescribable. We passed through Lanark Village and Panacea before swinging over to Perry, to spend a delightful evening with Lyle's oldest sister Peggy and her husband Dick.
Saturday we arose, said goodbyes to our wonderful hosts, and rode one last time down to the Gulf of Mexico, about a mile behind Peggy and Dick's place. Swinging north, we throttled up out of Florida into south Georgia, and turned east along Hwy 84 through Quitman, Valdosta, Waycross, Jesup, and Hinesville, catching I-98 then I-16 into Savannah to my daughter Ansley's  place for the night. We enjoyed watching UGA defeat LSU, ate at the popular Crab Shack out on Tybee Island, then got a good night's sleep before our final leg home.
Sunday we said goodbye to Ansley, Savannah, and the Atlantic Ocean and blasted west on I-16 for home. We parted ways in Dublin, he toward I-75 and Fayetteville, me up Hwy 441 to my folks in Eatonton and then on home to Dacula. This was a fantastic adventure with a nearly life-long friend, celebrating our half century out on the open road. Nearly 2100 total miles through five states, from the hills of Appalachia to the Mississippi River, across the Gulf coast and over to the Atlantic coast. "Epic" is the word I use to describe the trip. God guided us through beautiful places, to wonderful family and friends, and a four-decade friendship was deepened. Worth every minute and mile.

In this "season of uncertainty" I've lived in since leaving Hebron back in February, there have been times I've felt confident about the future, and times I've felt fearful. Now that we are seven months out on our own, there are days that the worry and anxiety grows. Into that, God led me to this passage in the Bible today-
"You are my servant, I have chosen you and not rejected you.
Do not fear, for I am with you;
Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you, surely I will help you,
Surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand."
Isaiah 41:9b-10
Even as we prepare to help plant and pastor a new Phoenix Community Church in Lawrenceville this fall/winter, the concern of raising support and doing various things to earn a living weighs heavy on my heart at times. Since I was 19 years old, I have served on staff vocationally at one church or another. Being unemployed for the first time in my adult life and trying to find ways to make money, even while eagerly anticipating the church plant, stresses me. But God came near to me today, with this passage. It's as if He spoke it into my heart.
He still has me, He is not through with me, and He will protect, preserve, and provide for me and my family. I am in good hands.

This past Saturday, I fulfilled a "bucket list" item.
It's been a dream of mine for several years to (1) own a sport bike, (2) ride it on the track at Road Atlanta, and (3) "hit the ton", i.e. go over 100 mph. I can now say I have done all three. I'd like to say "check- done that", but I want to do it again!
At the encouragement of my friends Jonathan Landwer and Brian Morris, I joined NESBA, the North East Sport Bike Assn, and signed up for one of their track days at Road Atlanta. In preparation, I bought all the appropriate gear, got the Triumph tuned up, and began to study the track via YouTube videos. By Saturday morning, I knew that track like my own street.
I had registered in the "novice" group, having never done a track day before, and being a recent sport bike rider. Upon arrival, the weather, which had been rainy all week, closed in again, and poured as soon as I pulled into the paddock area. "Great," I was thinking, "maybe I shouldn't have come." I did not want my first track day to be run in the rain, on a wet track. I grew anxious, somewhat afraid.
Jonathan arrived, as did Brian, and as we all got our bikes and gear situated, the rain began to subside. By the time the morning rider meetings were held, the sun began to break through, and soon, the track was drying enough to ride on. The advanced group went out, followed 30 minutes later by the intermediate group, then finally, my group. Each group had a 20-25 minute session on the track, and my group had several NESBA control riders mixed in, to insure we were okay and riding safely.
As the novice group left the starting area and began to loop around the track, my anxiety was replaced by focus. With each subsequent lap, and each subsequent session on the track, I gained confidence, increased my speeds, and took corners sharper and quicker. I was by no means as fast as most others, even in my group, but I was improving my skills, growing in comfort and confidence, and flat-out having fun. On the back straight, I broke 100 mph on every lap, and topped out at 122 mph by the end of the day. The bike was capable of much more, but for my first time out, that was plenty for me. Maybe 150 next time???
For a guy who underwent spinal neck surgery six weeks ago, I felt pretty good. I wore a neck brace every time I went out, just in case, and several riders and NESBA officials commended me on riding so soon after my procedure. One control rider even called me "Iron Man." Well, I do have a metal plate in my neck...
What a blast it was! I certainly am hooked on speed, in a controlled environment like that. Its hard to describe what hitting triple digits in mph feels like, but its addicting. That's a "bucket list item" I want to check off again, in the near future. Thanks to NESBA and my friends Brian and Jonathan for a memorable day.

 

I had the pleasure of spending a day with my friends Jonathan Landwer and Brian Morris at a NESBA track day at Road Atlanta recently. I couldn’t ride myself, due to my recent surgery, but I had a blast watching these guys blast around the track that afternoon. I hope to ride myself in a track day soon, Lord willing.

I got thinking about what makes a successful track day, and how that compares to a successful walk with Jesus Christ. I found some common elements. Here’s just a few, as I see them:

For a successful track day, you need the right equipment. A properly prepped sport bike is better than say, a big, heavy, low cruiser. The right riding gear is a must- full face helmet, full body armored suit, gloves, and track boots. And of course, the right tools and materials to keep the bike in top form are essential as well. The same can be said of walking with Christ. We need the Bible, the “full armor of God” as found in Ephesians 6, and how to properly use these.

A successful track day includes heeding vital instruction, and following the rules of the track and the sponsoring group. Failure to abide by these will get you expelled from the event and/or seriously injured. I find this true in large measure to following Christ also. God has given us vital instruction in His Word, with guidelines to veer us out of danger and keep us “on track” as in Psalm 119:105. Failure to follow God’s ways will result in personal pain, life misdirection, and disqualification from being effectively used by God for His kingdom purposes.

A successful track day includes the enjoyment of the shared experience with other like-minded riders, racing with each other around the track, then sharing stories, ideas, tips, and a helpful hand in the paddock. We also see our skills improve, as we learn to go faster, safer, in the company of fellow riders and under the instruction of dedicated control riders. The longer we walk with Christ, in the company of fellow Christ followers, the more we enjoy the journey, the more we grow in our gifts and calling. “Iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another” as Proverbs 27:17 states. The Christian life was meant to be lived in community with each other, growing together, serving together, doing life together, and reaching the world together with the love of God.

Observations from a track day.