Pastor's Devotions by Tim Harris

The other night as I was taking our dog for her late night walk, I noticed how few stars I could see in the sky.   Although it was a clear night, I could only see a handful of them.   The problem, of course, is the fact that here in this New York Metro area there is so much light coming from buildings, roadways, cars, etc.   All of these other lights dim out the light of the stars. What a contrast to what we are able to see in the sky when we as a family are in the Adirondack Mountains.   There, because there is so little man-made light, the stars shine so brightly.   The sky is filled to such an extent that we can even see the Milky Way!   So many nights we sit by the fire on the beach, gazing at the stars, trying to see how many shooting stars we can catch going by.   Because the sky is so dark, the stars seem so bright.   Many times our world can seem rather dark.   It’s upsetting to read about another shooting, another war, another threat to our safety.

One evening this past week I was on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, so I decided to swing by my grandmother’s old neighborhood. For 68 years she had lived on 114 th St between Riverside Dr. and Broadway.   It’s been about four years now since we moved my grandmother out of her apartment to an assisted living facility in NJ.   (She passed away in April 2011.)). And, it had been just as long since I had been back to the neighborhood where not only had my grandmother lived all those years, but where my mother had grown up and where we, as the grandchildren, had spent so much time.   After finding parking right on her block, I decided to walk the neighborhood for a bit.   I went by the bookstore up on the corner where we always loved to stop and peruse the books that were on display outside the store.   I peaked in the Cuban restaurant where my grandmother loved to get shrimp “in the green sauce” and churros to have with her coffee (always black!).   I stopped by Nussb

It’s that time of the year again, time for college students all around the country to head back to school.   So it is in our home.   Yesterday we packed up Jonathan, our oldest son, said our goodbyes, and off he went to begin his final year.   In fact, this is the first time we were not actually moving him into his dorm room. (That in and of itself is strange.)   And, this coming week we will, for the first time, pack-up Nathaniel, our second son, and take him off to school to begin his college career.   I know already that, that day is going to be very hard for both Kim and me (as well as Joanna!).   This whole experience is very bittersweet for me as a dad.   Of course, I want to see my children grow and mature and become independent.   I know I need to give them space to learn, to develop new relationships, and to experience life outside of my constant watch.   At the same time, I know that, that process does not come without its bumps and bruises.   These y

For some reason, I’ve recently run into a number of old friends—that is, friends from the past, not “aged” friends.   In supermarkets, restaurants, the park; via phone calls, Facebook, impromptu visits, I’ve connected with a number of people I haven’t seen in at least a year.   One guy called whom I hadn’t spoken to in probably 25 years! This past week I even had dinner with my former pastor—the pastor under whom I worked when I first finished seminary. I don’t know about you, but I find connecting with people from the past can be both exciting and a bit difficult.   It’s great to catch up on life and find out what’s been going on with them and their family.   It’s fun to hear the stories of what has been taking place in their life and to share your own stories.   But, it can also be difficult.   For one, where do you start when they ask, “So, what’s been going on?”   And, then there are the bits of sad news that rise to the surface: the divorce, the death of a spouse, the loss