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Help Me God

Updated on May 4, 2016

The old motorcycle

Help me God.

I want another motorcycle.

You have been there.

Motorcycle, house, car, can opener or gadget.

You wanted another or different one. But

things were not working out for you. You

were at a place where you needed to cry

"Help me God", whether you did or not.


Sitting at the table it hit me. Giving away that old motorcycle was a mistake. I was down to three motorcycles, none of which were suitable for tearing up, stripping down or modifying the way I had the old one.


I wanted a motorcycle to mess around with. Rip and snort asround the yard on. You know. Make a lot of noise. Throw dirt and grass around having a good time.

Two of my others were way too large, and one way too small.

My conscience would not let me spend much money on just a toy. So it had to be old and cheap. That's fine.

I settled on going after a four cylinder and about 650 cc.

In the shed - see below

In the shed - see below
In the shed - see below

The search

E-bay had a few suitable motorcycles. But I did not want to drive 500 to a 1,000 miles to get one.

Craigslist only had one in this area that was really suitable, but not one of my prefered makes. The price was right and the size was right. So I called them and told them I would take it. Missed it. Someone was in their front yard looking at it then. (That was a blessing.)

The Star shopper did not have any either.

Help me God.

Over the years I have learned to pray about everything. (Some times I mess up and forget.) How ever when I do pray, things go a lot better.

So. A few days latter a friend just happened to come up to my shop.

I told him my dilemma.

He just happened to need gas in his motorcycle.

He just happened to leave here and go after gas.

He just happened to meet a fellow there that just happended to have such a motorcycle in his shed. And he just happened to be trying to sell it for his sister.

And it just happened that the price was right.

And it just happened to be one of my preferred makes.

And it just happened that he only lived about three miles from my house.

As you imagined, that just happens to be it in the pictures - in different stages.

Oh! I not only stripped it down, but tinkered with the air intake, carburetors and exhaust.

Now it just happens to have too much power. Have to be careful, it will spin right out from uinder me.

Now you can call it a concidence if you want. But over the years I have found the "coincidences" stack up a whole lot higher in my favor when I pray, than when I don't. So I plan on continuing to call out "Help me God" whether in desperation or thanksgiving.

In the shop

In the shop
In the shop

Yard ready


Jesus said,

If you remain in me and my words remain in you,

then you will ask for anything you wish,

and you shall have it."

John 15:7 (TEV)

Guess the brand

Guess the brand
Guess the brand



Photo Courtesy

God himself gives us an example of getting through to God when a guy prayed the equivalent of "Help me God". I'll paraphrase, O.K.?

You can call out to God and get His help anywhere. But these two men thought a cool place to pray would be the Temple.

One man was a Pharisee. These guys were about the most religious people on earth. So this guy begins to tell God about how thankful he was for being like he was, and what he did. He gave God a long list of all the neat religious things he did for God. God ignored him.

The other guy was a publican. A tax collector. Nobody likes tax collectors. He was considered a traitor by his fellow country men because he was collecting taxes for a foreign government. You could not get any lower.

This guy would not even get close to the other people. He would not even look up to heaven. He just beat on his breast and said, "God have pity on me a sinner!" No con games with God or man. Just desperate and sincere. God heard him;

Get a Holy Bible and read about these guys in Luke 18:9-1`4 any version

Yes, my constant prayer is, "Help me God".



It was late in the afternoon and I was trying to get the flywheel on so i could button up

the transmission. The flywheel is held on with six bolts on that particular car. But I could

only find five bolts. After hunting for the bolt without success I was crying out "Help me

God", or something similar.

I could not (should not) go back with out that bolt. It was a special bolt we did not stock

and could only be bought from Ford. So with out it my rack would be tied up until one

could be shipped in. After hunting everywhere I was desperate.

The socket


I did not rest well that night. I spent a lot of time begging God to help me with the situation.

The next morning while waiting for the shop to open I was setting in my old car talking to

God about the problem. Something deep down inside of me said,"Look in the socket."


There they are - well, some like them.


As soon as the shop door opened I headed straight for my tool box. Pulled out the drawer

that had the socket , it was a deep socket. You know the answer. There was the bolt

down in the socket.

When we cry "Help me God" or it's equivalent, He answers when we are serious.

Jesus said,

"Ask, and you will receive;

seek, and you will find;

knock, and the door will be opened to you."

-Matthew 7:7 (TEV)


Photo courtesy

No that picture is not the truck. The truck just belonged there. The one I had was a 1961 chevy 1/2 ton, 3 speed manual transmission. I bought it from a friend back around 1980. When I bought it from him it had a transmission problem. I knew it because I had borrowed it numbers of times. Often when hitting a bump - or for no reason at all - it would jump out of high gear.

You would never have guessed it. But it continued to get worse. Much worse. In time it got to where it jumped out of high gear as much as sixteen times in the twelve miles I drove one way to work. I know. I counted them one time. My frustration continued to grow.

What needed to be done was buy a rebuilt transmission and put it in on a Saturday afternoon. Only one problem. At that time with raising the family I could not afford to.

The other option was to rebuild it myself. I could do that. I was and had been a professional mechanic for years. Rebuilding manual transmissions was part of my job description. But at that time getting parts for manual transmissions was a time consuming thing. I do not know how many vehicles I rebuilt the transmissions in. But each time after tearing them down, finding the need, and ordering the parts. The vehicle simply sat for several weeks waiting for parts.

Hey, that was my transportation to work. Even if I had the money I could not do that. So I made every adjustment or change I could - to no avail.

One night coming home from work just as I got to the bottom of "Slaughter mountain", it jumped out of gear. I pushed in the clutch and slapped it back into gear. As soon as I let the clutch out it popped right back out of gear. In desperation I cried out "Lord I don't know how much more of this I can take." [That's another way of saying "Help me God"]

The next morning at about the same place in the road the boy I was taking into town ask me if I had fixed the transmission. I said no, why. He said it has not jumped out of gear yet.

I started watching it. It must have been a year and a half before it ever jumped out again. And after that only a few times until I gave the truck away. What God did to that transmission I have no idea. But you can see why I continue to call out "Help me God".

God is a great mechanic in time of need.


The picture is Yamaha corner in my shop. It was not intended that way. But stuff happens. If you are acquainted with Yamaha Viragos, you know that they have starter problems. And more starter problems.

The Virago is on the left. My friend brought it in because of starter problems. The goal was to fix it with out cost. Hah! We were able to get a flywheel off his extra engine. Then pulling the flywheel off the bike in the picture, the puller split the crankshaft. Yep! Prayer time. With God's help and lots of "cheating" the starter worked pretty good - for a Virago.

He rode it one day. Ran the best it had since he had it. But would not make it home. It flat out quit. Trailer time.

We could not make it run. With the aid of an old timing light we were able to see that it was only getting fire when he pushed the starter button, and when he let go of the starter button.

I thought that is was the CDI, Igniter, Module or what ever you want to call it. Acquired one from eBay. Same old story.

Serious prayer time. "Help me God."

After several months of spare time tinkering, and much prayer, God helped us (my friend) find the problem. The pick up coils had lost two of the three bolts holding them in place. So the coils dropped down onto the flywheel. Should run now. Right? Wrong.

It ended up that when the pickup coils dropped onto the flywheel they must have caused it to short out the ignition module. So it took both.

He has had it out of the shop for several days now. That's real success on that old motorcycle. And we both thank God for leading us, even if it was a long way around.



For about fourty years I have wanted further out in the country. I am one of these people who need their "space". But things only got worse. The area continued to grow and my space shrunk. Being well past retirment, and on a fixed income, there seemed no hope.

Help me God.

It of course became a matter of prayer. Then a few years ago came an idea. Perhaps I could find a few acres of woods as a retreat. You know, sort'a a permanent camp site. Then when the mood hit me, just run out there. Of course there was still the money issue. But perhaps some land being sold cheap for taxes.

It took a lot of prayer and patience. But with God's help it happened. The picture is what I call my front yard. It is taken in the winter, because that is when I took possession of it.

Oh! It cost about the same as my wife's used motorscooter and only fourty-five minutes from the house. THANK YOU JESUS.




A tent would have been sufficiant for my "permanent camp site". But I of course would want to store some "goodies" to eat. Now around there a bear or a coon would make short work of a tent and eat my "goodies". Then where would I be?

It was realized that a stronger structure would be necessary. So a small wood shelter or shedd was in mind for the woods. I could store some food and water, get out of the weather and sleep. Yes spend several days if I wanted.

But God was way ahead of me. There was an abandoned mobile home in the middle of these woods. I would not need to build, just repair. OK! So God did not want me in a cheap tent. I can live with it being 54 foot long and twelve feet wide.



One of my friends had been riding his bike in a thunder storm. It got him home. But he was never able to get it started again.

So I bought it from him. My problem had to result from my pride. I wanted to get it started so the next time I saw him I could casually tell him I got it started. You know "pride". The Scriptures teach us that "Pride goes before destruction and a haughty spirit before a fall."

The result was that I was not careful enough. It had about 1/2 tank of fuel. I had the fuel valve set on primary so it would by pass the valve. And we will not even go into the starting fluid I was using.

It back fired and number 2 carb. caught fire. Fire was licking up around the back of the fuel tank. I started trying to beat it out with a rag. No good. On cars several times over the years the carbs. have caught fire for me and I was able to blow it out. It takes lots of wind. So with a good hard blow all I got was burned lips and singed eye brows.

I finally spotted my fire extinquisher and grabbed it. Pulled the pin out and squeezed the trigger. NOTHING. It had been setting too many years.

Back to beating with a rag. I am not accomplishing anything and am getting real tired.

I thought about pushing it out of the shop and letting it just burn up. But my car was just outside the shop door. If it did not go far enough, it would catch the car on fire too.

And if it went over the incline it would end up at the house and set it on fire.

This old man was just about beat out and the bike was still burning.

Finally in desperation I yelled out, "Jesus I need your help". And just that quick the fire went out.

When I next saw my friend I was not able to tell him about what a hot mechanic I was. But instead about how great my God is.

God hears sincere prayer.


Several of these books have been a real blessing to me in my time of need.

Perhaps one of these will help you go in the direction that will bring your needed miracle.


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