Pastor's Devotions by Tim Harris

As many of you know, this past Saturday I ran my first half marathon. It was a great day, the climax of twelve weeks of training.  When I crossed the finish line my legs were tired, but I was pumped; I had accomplished my goal and did it in better time than I thought I could. I was definitely on a high for about a day. By late Sunday, however, the fatigue began to kick-in, not just in the legs but in my whole body. I had given it everything I had and now my body was saying, “rest.” Thus, I entered into  recovery mode. No major running for about a week, just walking, light motion on a stationary bike, some light weight training, and on day five just a short easy run. But not only was my body tired, I began to feel a little down; the post-race blues began to hit. I began wondering what to do next and how to schedule any upcoming running. I found myself looking online for other races, trying to figure out when I could race again, what kind of training I would need to go through, and how l

“Trust the training” were the words a person wrote on my Facebook post in which I highlighted one of my final training runs for my first half marathon, which will take place tomorrow morning. Those words have stuck in my head since. Each time I begin to wonder whether or not I will be able to actually run the 13.1 miles required and/or run the kind of time I’ve been striving for, I repeat to myself those words, “trust the training.”  For 12 weeks now I’ve been running three times per week various types of runs and slowly increasing the distance. The longest I’ve run thus far is 12 miles, so I will have to add just one more mile to complete the race. It’s been quite a journey, but as of yesterday my training is done. And now with the training completed, all I can do is “trust the training” and get out there and run.  For sure, that phrase can apply to a lot of areas of life. Whether it is the training for a different sport, studies for the medical profession, the learning required to be

Through the years, Kim and I have enjoyed walking through the neighborhoods in which we have lived. As we do, we are able to see things we would miss when driving through.  After all, when one is driving they easily miss the small things around them—e.g., what people have planted in their flowerbeds, the small changes they have made to their home, the new sidewalk that was recently laid, etc.  When driving we often miss the details in front of us. Walking through a neighborhood gives to us a completely different perspective. (And having a dog to walk causes us to walk through our neighborhood a lot!)  And it’s not just about the homes and lawns and gardens, it’s even more so about the neighbors—i.e., the people who live in the houses we pass each day. When we drive through, we might give a friendly wave through the car window, but we have no opportunity to talk, learn about each other, and find out what might be taking place in one another’s lives. When we walk, we can actually stop an

This past Monday, Labor Day, I had the opportunity to run a 5K race with my son Jonathan in Montgomery County, Maryland where he and his family live. Following the 5K race, there were two races for the kids, one for children ages 2-5 years old and one for children ages 6-12 years old. Jonathan and Danielle signed up our grandson Jesse, who just turned 2 years old, for the first race.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone as excited to run a race as was Jesse. As they lined the younger kids up (all three of them), there was Jesse wearing his American flag tank top, with his number pinned to his shirt, and Jonathan holding him back from taking off before the signal was given. He just couldn’t wait to run!  And when the signal was given, he gave it his all, running to the end of the stretch marked out for them and then turning around to make his way across the finish line. Not only that, but when the older kids were lined up to run their race, Jesse cried out, “More!”  He wanted to race ag