It was hard waking up this morning. As I brewed a pot of Biker Coffee Company black liquid, I realized I might need multiple pots of coffee to get moving today. It was going to be that kind of day … so I thought. I sat and read a few chapters from the Bible and then headed out to jump on my bike. I decided to take Heather’s bike so that I could enjoy some great music for the commute.

Within a minute or two of twisting the throttle, my day changed. The fatigue fell off of me as I felt the wind in my face and the power of the motor inviting me to go faster.

Ever had that happen? Ever jump on your bike and find your entire mood and energy level change the moment you turn the first corner? Sure you have.

It was in that moment that I was reminded of something that every biker understands: It’s not the destination, it’s the journey. My destination was the church office. But that was the furthest thing on my mind. I was living in the moment. The moment was sitting on an ElectraGlide, twisting the throttle, and feeling my fatigue and frustration disappear.

I turned off the radio and began to worship God. I softly sang a song that is really a prayer.

Lord, I give you my heart, I give you my soul. I live for you alone.

Every breath that I take, every moment I’m awake, Lord, have your way in me.

And then it hit me. Again.

It’s about the journey.

I have a lot of issues with religion, but at the top of the list, it’s that religion focuses on the destination. You have do do things in order to earn enough credit to get into Heaven.

The spirituality that I believe Jesus called us to experience focuses on the journey. Living in the moment. Experiencing the awesomeness of God today, tomorrow, and the day after that. It’s about twisting the spiritual throttle and feeling the power of God as you realize again he loves you just as you are.

As I was riding along, I was reminded of an experience a friend of mine had a few years ago. A bunch of us had attended an Easter drama at a local church. As the service concluded, this friend was weeping. She shared how Easter has always been about the Bunny and chocolate. But suddenly, sitting there watching this drama, she was struck by the true message of Easter. To this day, when she has a “God-moment”, she says, “It’s not about the bunny.”

You don’t have those moments if all you’re focused on is the destination. The end point. If your attention is on a day that is some time in the future, you miss the moments that God has for you to experience today. What a shame.

It’s not that the destination isn’t important. When I jumped on the bike this morning, I knew I had to get to a specific place. But I wasn’t so focused on the destination that I missed enjoying the journey.

Don’t let your spirituality be about the destination. Not because the destination isn’t important. It is. But there’s an incredible journey that God is inviting us to experience. It’s a journey full of “bunny moments”. It’s full of incredible discoveries.

So, enjoy your journey.

There’s an interesting discussion happening on a motorcycle forum I am part of. The city of Edmonton recently passed a noise bylaw that specifically targets motorcycles. According to the bylaw, motorcycles cannot generate more than 90 decibels at idle or 96 decibels in motion. Anything more can result in a $250 fine.

When the issue was first brought up on this particular forum, the first few people to post focused on the people who have loud pipes. Rather than discuss the bylaw, they chose to criticize the riders, calling them insecure, idiots, and a few other things. Fortunately, a few more intelligent posts showed up that turned the discussion back to the bylaw at hand.

This post really isn’t about the bylaw. Although, I will say that I get frustrated whenever government introduces another law against motorcyclists. Lawnmowers and hair dryers also produce more than 90 decibels, but we don’t see a law against their use. No, this law is very clear that it relates only to motorcycles. It is another attempt by another city council to make it hard for motorcyclists to enjoy their passion.

I believe one of the reasons they get away with it is because we motorcyclists rarely put away our differences and stand together. Sport Bike riders and Cruisers are too busy making fun of each other to recognize that we need to speak with one voice.

If you were to come into Bikers’ Church, you would find a scripture paraphrased on our projection screen. The verse is Galatians 3:28. Here’s how we’ve paraphrased it:

At CCBC there can be no division into Harley and Metric, sport bike and cruiser, hardcore and weekend rider. Among us you are all equal. That is, we are all on a common spiritual journey to discover God’s grace through Jesus Christ.

We take that very seriously. We stand together. We want to create a culture where what you ride makes no difference. We are part of something that includes those who are quite different than us. Rather than focus on the differences, we choose to stand together.

Isn’t that true of many areas in life? I know it’s true in the church world. We focus so often on our differences that we are unwilling to stand together. We want to show how we’re different than the church down the street — we’re better, more effective, more loving … and all the while, none of us truly get it. Jesus made it clear, “They will know we are Christ followers by our love for one another.”

I think it’s easier to point a finger at those we don’t agree with than it is to find commonality so that we might stand together and make a difference.

What about you? Do you put your energy into finding areas of division or commonality?

This past weekend a bunch of us from Bikers’ Church headed down to Hamilton, Ontario to support our friends in the launch of the newest Bikers’ Church in Canada. It was exciting to see the interest that was shown in the new church. Ken, the Hamilton Bikers’ Church pastor, believes he will see many new faces when they have their second service, this Thursday night.

Ever have one of those weekends where nothing could get you down? That’s what the Hamilton Trip weekend was like for me. It was great to see the guys in Hamilton excited and so proud to be seeing their church become a reality. It was also amazing to see the support from the seven guys who rode many hours to be their for HBC.

But as much as the HBC launch was great to see, the highlight of the weekend for me was hanging with some of the guys from Ottawa. We’ve talked for years about doing a “men’s ride” and finally we had a weekend where it was just guys heading out on their bikes. We laughed, we joked around, and we did a lot of riding.

Mind you, I was riding a “girl’s bike.” Instead of taking my Wide Glide, I decided to enjoy the trip in comfort and took Heather’s ElectraGlide. What a difference! Yes, her bike is eight years newer than mine. Yes, it has 160,000 fewer kilometers than mine. Yes, it’s a bagger with a full fairing and a stereo system. And yes, I’m ready to move on to a new bike!

On Saturday, we pulled out of the Hamilton area knowing that rain could hit at any moment. Sure enough, half an hour into our ride home, the rain started. And it came in buckets. All day long. We decided to take the scenic route home, and rather than six hours of riding in the rain, we ended up riding a little over ten hours. And no, I didn’t bother with my rain gear.

But what a difference riding the ElectraGlide instead of the Dyna. It took much longer to get soaked right through to my skin. And even at my wettest, I still loved the comfort of the big bike.

I also loved the attitude of the guys riding with me. Every time we stopped, we’d laugh at how wet we were. We’d joke about the trip. We made light of the crappy day. After all, if you’re going to ride, you might as well accept that you’ll ride in rain from time to time. The best part of all was that we did it together.

It’s funny, but there are times when I love riding alone. My road trip was amazing because I did it at my speed, my way, my timing, etc. Sure, it would have been great to have Heather with me, but for the most part, it was great taking the trip on my own.

However, there are also times when there is nothing like riding in a group. Especially a group of guys that you trust, respect, appreciate, and yes, love. Guys you care deeply about.

That was the kind of weekend I had.

So, congrats to Hamilton at the launch of your Bikers’ Church. Thank you Heather for allowing me to spend the weekend in comfort. And thumbs up to the guys who made the trip so perfect, even in the rain. And Bruce, please don’t ever leave a can of Pam on an open flamed stove.

When I was a pre-teen, my mom married a biker. For me, nothing could be better. My step-dad was a former member of a 1%er motorcycle club. While he wasn’t still in the club, his passion for motorcycles was greater than anything else in his life. Again, for a 12 year old boy, there was nothing wrong with that! On weekends, my parents would host parties, and I would come home to find Harleys lining the street outside my house. Bikers would be sitting on the front porch, the lawn, and all over the back yard. It was awesome! In my heart, I became a biker during those days, riding my dirt bike, counting the days until I was able to get my motorcycle license and a real bike.

I saw a lot of crazy things during those years. There was the time a very drunk guy invited two equally inebriated women to climb onto his bike and the end of the night. They took off, three up on the Harley. They didn’t get far. Two blocks later, they ran a red light and were t-boned by a car. All three lived, although the guy spent a few months in a full body cast.

Then there was the night a bat got lose in the house. At 3 AM, I woke up to five or six bikers crashing around the house, trying to catch the bat. Most were still battling whatever drink caused them to pass out earlier, and all were wearing pillow cases over their heads to protect their hair (and long beards) from becoming the nesting ground of the bat. There was even one biker hoping around on a single leg, his wooden leg in his hand, swinging wildly at the bat. In the end, it was our cat that finally got a hold of the critter.

Of all the memories, none is as vivid as the memories of Mountain Man. To be honest, I don’t know how tall he really was, but to a thirteen year old kid, he was a giant. For years, I believed he was over seven feet tall. In reality, he was closer to six and a half feet. Still, he was a big dude. People didn’t call him Mountain Man because he was short.

For many years, Mountain Man was a hero to me. You see, he stood up for me one time when our family was out having fun. We went to a park and my brother and I were horsing around on a slide. An attendant at the park tried to kick us out, and Mountain Man came over and suggested to the guy that he reconsider. With knees shaking, he reconsidered. And, my brother and I were left alone the rest of the day.

I wanted to be feared like Mountain Man. I wanted to be able to walk up to someone and suggest that they reconsider.

It’s funny how your perspective can change as you get older.

Today, I’m 6′ 2″. I’m probably only a few inches shy of Mountain Man’s height. I ride a cool bike. I’m told that I can be intimidating. And yet, I have no desire to be feared. If anything, I want to be seen as a man of peace. Sure, I’d still like to tell some people to reconsider, but not because they’ve angered me. I want to tell people to reconsider the choices they’re making because I see how their choice will lead them down a destructive path.

After we started Bikers’ Church, I hoped to come across Mountain Man. I met a few others who remembered the parties with my parents, but no one could tell me what happened to Mountain Man. It was only a few years ago that I learned he had died of cancer. He died alone. And suddenly, my childhood awe of Mountain Man became a sadness for how his life ended.

What kind of person do you want to be known as? What kind of person are you already known as? Sometimes the Mountain Men are not all they seem to be.