Saturday God used the RTR crew in the Florida Keys for the 36th Annual Harley Davidson Poker Run, just not the way that I thought He would.
We set out early in the morning for Key West prepared to witness to fellow bikers and share our love for Jesus with them but it seemed God had other plans. You see we had let ourselves get caught up in our personal problems, finances and problems of the world in general. God was about to intervene.
We were a group of 9 riders and when we arrived at Key West and some of us needed gas. While they were filling up with fuel a man came over to ask what kind of bike I was riding. When I told him, it started a conversation that ended up with me sharing my faith and witnessing to him. I was still talking to the man when my group rode out. None of them saw me witnessing except for Pastor Dan who was patiently waiting for me. Dan and I rode to Main Street that led into downtown but could not see the rest of our group, we were split up.
There were a lot of people and motorcycles and we rode around for some time before we decided to park then try to regroup. The sun was merciless and the fumes from my bikes' exhaust had me begging Pastor Dan to park anywhere just so that I can get a soda before I passed out. We made one more attempt to try and call them to see where they were when we spotted some parking just off the Main Drive in a dead end street. At the time, there were only a handful of bikes parked there because the parking space was hidden and away from the show and all the festivities. We called the other part of our group and gave them directions to where we had parked. In a few minutes they found us and we gathered our gear and walked to a restaurant a few blocks away for lunch.
It was Cuban restaurant and it wasn't too busy but most importantly they had ceiling fans and air conditioning so we had the host seat us. The fact that we were seated in a/c and had plenty of cold water to drink made us tolerate the two hours it took to get our food. We didn't order anything fancy just sandwiches. I ordered a Cuban sandwich, which I guess since Cuba is only 90 miles away they rowed a boat to Havana to have it made - for authenticity sakes.
We had originally said that we would have lunch, walk around to see the motorcycles on display and visit the many vendor booths all before three in the afternoon. This way we would get home before dark and also avoid the traffic jams on US1, but our extended lunch break cut into our time and we would have to hustle. As I stood to leave the restaurant I got my helmet and gloves but could not find my motorcycle keys. Without saying a word to my brothers I started walking towards where we had parked our bikes thinking that I did not remember taking my keys from the ignition. "Oh God, please let my motorcycle be there" I thought, as visions of me finding an empty spot where I had parked my bike ran through my head.
As I rounded the corner and slowed my walk, I could not see my bike, there were several cars parked ahead of it and I could not see around them. Then through the windshield I could make out the orange tank of my bike, I breathed a sigh of relief and thanked God. I had not told the rest of the group that I was missing my keys and thats why I walked off in a hurry. When I reached the bike the keys were not in the ignition. I emptied my pockets again and looked on the floor around the bikes in case they had fallen. When everyone got there I told them that I had lost my keys and they immediately began to retrace our steps and call the restaurant to see if someone had turned them in. We informed the local police and they suggested a local locksmith but after speaking with him and getting prices it did not seem like an option to me.
I told everyone in our group that I was almost certain that I had left the keys in the ignition switch when we parked and someone has taken them because I noticed a small amount of sand on the seat as if someone sat on the bike. Thankfully my bike is not very easy to start and they might have given up. I was nervous because if I left the bike alone they might try to start it again and have better luck. I felt guilty for ruining the rest of the afternoon for everyone and told them to please enjoy what was left of the event and leave me that I would be fine, but no one would go.
Running out of options I decided to call my wife and ask her to drive down with my spare keys. I pleaded with my brothers to leave me and enjoy the show and take pictures for me because it would be at least three hours before my spare keys arrived, they refused. We all sat on the curb next to the bikes and began to wait. After a while and all the water we drank some of us needed to use the bathroom and we got up to walk to the end of the street and see if there were any public restrooms around. At the end of the street was a small beach with a pier and a public bathroom. We found out it was locked when we tried the handle and a voice said " If you need to go, just use the alley; that's what we do". That's when we noticed the large amount of homeless people seeking shelter at the small beach. The irony is that right next door is a Hilton resort.
A few more minutes go by and a homeless man walks over and says that he overheard us looking for a set of keys and he remembers seeing someone with them at the beach. This was an older man with a gray beard, torn clothes, sandals; carrying a blue guitar with a local bumper sticker on it. His skin was weathered and dark, his voice was garbled and very hard to understand. He continued " the keys look like the same ones used on soda machines..." he had my attention. He told me he would find them for us and bring them by as soon as he could find the guy that had them. Fifteen minutes go by and he said that he could not find the guy and he would need his bike. Every other word that came out of his mouth was a curse word and I don't think he has control of it anymore. By now I doubted he could help and by the looks of it he could barely get himself together.
A half hour later I told our friends who rode down with us to go before it gets dark. Dan, Eugene and Dino would stay. They said we rode here together and we would ride home together. Many different types of people walked by where we sat and it gave us some more opportunities to witness to those who opened up to us. Of course our
"friend" stopped by every ten minutes with a different story as to why he could not find the keys. I was starting to get the impression he was looking for sympathy and a handout for his efforts and started to ignore him every time he came with updates.
I called my wife to see how far she was because it was starting to get dark and there was no lights where we were sitting. It would be at least another hour before she gets to us and we decided to push the bike to a spot further up the street under a street lamp. Now our friend came back with his latest excuse that the guy who had the keys gave them to someone else and while he was looking for this guy he had missed his gig to play his guitar for some change. We pretended to not hear this latest plea for sympathy but did tell him we appreciate all his efforts.
Dan and I joked and said what would I do if this guy actually turns up with the keys. I said that I would be very ashamed that I didn't believe him or take him seriously because of the way he looked and his lifestyle. I said that I had twenty three dollars in my wallet and I would give it all to him and tell him that I am sorry for not believing him. My cell phone rings and its my wife, she's twelve miles away and soon we can go home.
It was a long day and I was glad that soon we would be on our way home. I told my brothers that I was very sorry that they would get no sleep because of me. One thing we did acknowledge is that God is in control and these things happen for a reason. Even though we do not know why but for some reason we were not supposed to leave at our scheduled time. My phone rings again and it's my wife telling me she's 400 feet away according to the GPS. Just then Dan tells me our friend is back. Our
"friend" is back and he's waving a set of keys. No way, I can't believe it.
Everyone tells me to make sure they are my keys but I know they are. I can recognize a mustard seed charm I put of the key chain a long time ago. I tell my wife the news, in disbelief she asked me where were they as if I had misplaced them. I tell her that a homeless man brought them to me, how he was looking for them all along and she was blown away in a good way. I struggled hard to look our friend in the eyes and tell him I was sorry for doubting him. He said " I love you guys, I told you I would find them." "Yes you did and you were right all along" I told him. I reach for my wallet and gave him a twenty dollar bill and as I reached for the three singles I had left he told me that he did not want to leave me without any money to keep them. I said that it was OK I would get some more later he had earned it.
That man, shook my hand and we hugged as if I did him a favor. I believe that God puts people in our paths for a purpose and that nothing is by accident. That day my fellow brothers and I did as God intended it to be. The fact that I was witnessing to a person who came to me at the gas station and that caused us to get split up was no accident. Our parking in that dead end street where we were allowed to witness to homeless and several others was all planned out. The time of fellowship with my brothers that allowed us to bond and further strengthen our ministry, all of it, God's plan.
Later as we were gearing up for the ride back home our
"friend" pays us one more visit. With his blue guitar in his hands he thanks us again and tells us that the twenty dollars will buy him new strings for his guitar so he can play for spare change. No price tag or unit of time could be placed on what I came away with that day. I love you brothers, I hope that you were all fed spiritually as much as I was that day.
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