Pastor's Devotions by Tim Harris

This week here in New Jersey, water restrictions were put into place due to drought conditions. Although we’ve enjoyed some terrific weather, the continually blue skies have meant a lack of rain. September 2024 was the third driest September on record, followed by an October that had record low rainfall not just for the month of October, but a record low for any month. And thus far the November has not been any better—just a tenth of an inch.  I realize that we are not the only ones facing a lack of rain. And ours is not nearly as severe as it has been in other parts of the world (and hopefully will not be). When Kim and I were on the island of Lesvos, Greece at the beginning of October, we were told their last rainfall had been April 10. And they still have not received any substantial rain. Parts of South America (e.g. the Amazon rainforest in Brazil) and southern Africa have faced long-term droughts. Some places have been devastated by a lack of rain. I think we’d all agree, we fail

Have you ever worried? I know you have. We all worry about the stuff of life, at times even falling into full-blown anxiety. It’s a very human response when we feel as if the future is uncertain and may even hold for us the possibility of negative circumstances. The more I talk to people today the more I realize that worry and anxiety have become the order of the day.  People are worried about the economy, wars that are taking place around the world, climate change, and the politics of the day. On a more personal level, people are worried about their jobs, the well-being of their children, relationships that seem to be falling apart, whether or not they’ll have enough for retirement, and so much more. If our candidate didn’t get elected, we worry. If our son or daughter is struggling in school, we worry. If our workplace announces layoffs, we worry. When we hear about the bomb that was dropped, we worry. When the doctor gives us a bad report, we worry.  And we do so with good cause. Af

On our recent trip to Greece, and specifically to the island of Lesvos, Kim and found a pottery shop filled with beautiful handcrafted pottery. Inside was an older man setting up for the day with whom I began to speak in my very minimal Greek. I told him that my grandparents were from the island and from the town that his shop was in, Mantamados. After a bit, he brought some pieces out to show us, and when I picked one up I realized it was yet warm. It was right out of his kiln. He then signaled for me to follow him into his workroom, showing me the kiln from which the items had just come. What I found out next astounded me: he was a fifth generation potter.  I couldn’t imagine that his trade had been passed down to him through so many generations. That meant that his craft of making pottery had begun with his great-great grandfather—which may go back as far as the late 1700’s. To me that’s astounding! To think that somewhere along the line there was a father who taught his son the cra

Have you ever had one of those nights when you try to go to sleep but your mind is going in a million directions? It happens to all of us. It happens to me. I’m tired and want to sleep, but all of a sudden my mind fills up with all the stuff of the day, the things that are coming up, my next sermon, thoughts about my family, the things that are happening in the world around me, etc. I try to sleep but my mind flies in every direction except towards sleep.   It seems that, especially in the environment in which we live, our minds are constantly racing, thinking, and making decisions. The political environment around us, our newsfeeds, social media, and the constant stimuli that bounces against our brains all feed into the hyperactivity of our minds. Then add to all of that the normal concerns of life: family matters, jobs, the tasks that need to get done around the house. With so much to think about—so much coming into our brains—it’s no wonder we have those nights when our minds won’t

Recently, Kim and I took a trip to Greece. One of our stops was the island of Lesvos, the island my grandparents had come from over 100 years ago. And, because of some family research I had done this past year, we were able to visit the exact town from which they came, Mantamados—a small town in the heart of the country.  Family in Lesvos - 1921 Before we left for Greece, I had posted on a Lesvos Facebook group I had joined that I was going to be visiting there, that my grandparents had come from Mantamados, and I gave the names of my grandparents. Someone responded, tipping me off that there was a dairy store and small yogurt factory that had my grandmother’s maiden name, Adali, on it. I looked it up on Google maps and sure enough it was there.   When we got to Mantamados, I was able to quickly find the store. The first time we passed by, it was closed. I was disappointed. About an hour later, however, we passed by again and a man was sitting inside. At first he told me in Greek he wa

I have as the wallpaper on my phone a picture that Kim took last week. It’s a picture of me sitting on a bed and reading to Jesse and Jack, two of my grandsons. They are each holding a stuffed animal that we keep for them at our house. And they are looking intently at the pictures in the book. Most of all, they are listening intently to the words I am reading them and to the progression of the story.   As you probably know, there is nothing more beneficial to a child than being read to. Reading to children expands their vocabulary, helps them associate spoken words with written words, which in turn prepares them to learn how to read.  Reading to children brings with it all kinds of cognitive benefits that helps them succeed in their latter academic endeavors, as well as stimulates their creative juices. Best of all, reading to a child creates a bond between the child and their parent—or in this case, their grandparent. That’s why I love reading to my grandsons.  One thing that always a

As some of you may know, last year I participated in my first (and thus far, only) sprint triathlon. It was a super-charged event, leaving me with a feeling of incredible accomplishment. I will admit, the training was hard and time-consuming. Just about every day I was running or cycling or swimming or doing a combination of any one of them. There were times when I wanted to give up. But I knew the only way I would ever be able to complete the race was to be consistent, to train hard, to give it my all, to be all in.  Such is the way it is in life. No one ever accomplishes anything of significance being half-hearted. Whether in athletics or academics, relationships or business, success comes to those who wholeheartedly invest their time and energy and effort—to those who give it their all; to those who are all in.  Deuteronomy 6:5 says, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength.” (NIV – emphasis mine) The word “all” speaks of everything

While our son Nathaniel and his wife Sarah are away on a trip, Kim and I are watching their 10 month old Lab mix, Pepper. Well, like any good dog-sitter, I went and bought Pepper a couple of new chew toys to help occupy her time. What I didn’t know was that Pepper doesn’t just chew her toys, she rips them apart!  Whether it is a rubber bone or heavy woven rope, Pepper just gnaws at them, ripping them apart, piece by piece by piece. (And, we need to make sure she’s not swallowing any of the rubber or string.)   I’m amazed at how persistent and how focused Pepper can be when chewing on something. For a few minutes at least, it’s as if nothing else in the world exists. She will pull at a string until she gets it out and then go onto the next—and the next. All of her energy is focused on tearing apart whatever it is she has in her mouth. She is, what I would call,  quite “persistent” and “determined.”  It’s actually amazing to watch her at her task.  It makes me ask myself, am I that persi

It’s Labor Day weekend, the unofficial end to summer. I’m not all that thrilled about that. After all, in spite of the sometimes grueling heat and humidity, I love the summer months. I love running the boardwalk and then being able to jump into the ocean for a swim. I look forward to our family’s annual time up in the Adirondack Mountains, swimming, hiking, boating, etc. And, I simply love being able to get up in the morning and throw on some shorts and a t-shirt to walk the dog—no need for the big coats and sweaters. There’s so many things I like about summer. But, as they say, “all good things must come to an end,” and such is the case with summer.  Of course, the end of summer is not the “end” period. Rather, the end of the summer season marks the start of a new season. The end of summer, leads us into the season we call “autumn” or “fall.” And, it as well is a beautiful time of year.  With cooler temperatures making their way in, the leaves changing color, and so many different thi

The other day I heard someone say, “Aging is a gift and a privilege.” The words struck me hard since this weekend I’m turning 65. In my mind, turning 65 is kind of a strange milestone. It was one thing to enter into my 60’s; it’s another to now be halfway through. I don’t feel like I should be on Medicare or be considered to be a full-fledged “senior citizen.” Yet, that is where I’m at. I haven’t been sure whether I should be celebrating this birthday or merely accepting it.  When I heard those words, however, “aging is a gift and a privilege,” something clicked in my brain. I began to ask myself, if that is true, what will I do with this gift? How will I make best use of this season of my life? After all, if aging is a gift and a privilege, I then have a great responsibility to both enjoy this season and use it to its fullest.  For me that means, finding meaningful ways to invest into the lives of others, including my family (and especially my grandchildren). It means keeping myself h

This past week I’ve been able to catch a bit of the Olympics. As I watch, I am constantly amazed by the athletes. It’s incredible to see the way they run, swim, throw, jump, shoot, etc. Even the losers are spectacular to watch, no less the winners. And then there are those who are breaking world records! It’s an incredible show of power, speed, balance, and focus. How many times I’ve thought to myself, I wish I could run like that or swim like that…or do something like that!  A lot of people dream of becoming an Olympic athlete, but few actually make it. For one, for most of sports, there’s a genetic component. For example, world class pole vaulters are all very, very tall whereas gymnasts are usually quite small. And there is the natural talent component—i.e., something innate that creates a great potential for a particular set of athletic endeavors. Most of all, however—and this is what amazes me the most—is the hours and weeks and years of discipline and training. After all, one mig

Not too long ago, someone in the gym I go to said to me, “Thanks for remembering my name.” Then they said to me, as so many people do, “I’m good with faces but bad with names” as their excuse for forgetting my name. I wanted to respond, “Of course. That’s true for everyone!” After all a face is visual, and what’s visual sticks in our brains much more easily than that which is only heard.  Someone recently posted, “Not to brag, but I can shake your hand and forget your name simultaneously!” And we all know that can be true. As quickly as someone gives you their name, it flies out of your brain and you’re left wondering what just happened. But without putting forth effort and concentration, it’s easy to quickly forget a person’s name, especially when you’ve not had much interaction with them. That’s why in some settings people are asked to wear name tags. Not only is the person’s name right in front of you, but you will be much more likely to remember their name once you see it.  As a pa

In my last blog (June 21,2024), I wrote of waiting for the arrival of Caleb Daniel, our third grandson. Well, he arrived right on schedule (June 24) at the healthy weight of 9 lbs. 5 oz. So just like the old TV show from the 1960’s, Jonathan and Danielle (his parents) can speak of “My Three Sons”: Jesse, Jack, and Caleb. And, I can now refer to my three grandsons!  And what’s both so wonderful and amazing about it all is, as Caleb has entered our family, he receives as much love as do his brothers; they don’t lose any of the love we have had for them while Caleb receives all the love he needs. Let me explain what I mean.  I remember when Kim and I were starting our family, I wondered how in the world I could ever love another human being as much as I loved Kim. After all, being married to Kim was one of the greatest joys of my life (and still is!). Yet, when our firstborn Jonathan came along I felt a new love emerging such that I didn’t have to take away any love from Kim to love our n

This coming Monday, June 24, he’s coming! If all goes according to schedule, our third grandson Caleb Daniel will arrive into the world—and most importantly, into our lives. Kim and I are so excited as are, of course, his parents, Jonathan and Danielle, and his big brothers, Jesse and Jack—and all the rest of the family. After nine months of waiting, Caleb will be here!  Of course these past nine months have at times felt very long, especially for mom who has been experiencing all the discomfort that goes along with a pregnancy. And these past few weeks, as the date has gotten closer and Caleb has been growing at an increasing rate, have especially felt long. At times, it has felt as if he will never come.  Yet before you know it, Caleb will be here; the days of waiting will be over! Life with Caleb will begin!   Isn’t that how it is in many areas of life? At times it can seem as if we spend so much of our lives waiting for “it” to come, to be fulfilled, to take place—whatever the “it”

Recently I’ve begun to once again do some speed workouts at a local track. It can be helpful to be on a track for, not only is it softer on the knees, but it is much more conducive to certain kinds of workouts that require regular distances, no obstacles, and a flat terrain. The downside to running on a track is that you are literally running in circles.  That can make the milage feel quite long. After all, when I’m out running on the road or in a park, I always feel like I’m out on some sort of journey—like I’m going somewhere, moving from point A to point B. On a track, however, that one mile is just about four loops around.  So, rather than thinking about getting from one point to the next, I’m just counting the loops—just running to get back to where I started every quarter of a mile, which I personally don’t enjoy as much as going from point A to point B.   In a sense this is exactly what can happen in our lives. I might ask, have you ever felt like you keep ending up where you be

This past weekend, Kim and I were glad to have had our daughter Joanna and her husband Dan come visit. And along with them came their greyhound, Odin. As well, our son Nathaniel and his wife Sarah came for a few days, along with their dog (puppy), Pepper—and their rabbit, Lizzy! That meant, along with our dog Sadie, we had three dogs and a rabbit in our home! (Below is a pic of just two of them: Sadie & Pepper) I do find it quite interesting that we as people, for the most part, love to have pets. For most of us it’s either a dog or a cat. (Our son, Jonathan has cats—to which I’m quite allergic.) Some have birds (of which I am not that fond!). And a few have rabbits or Guinee pigs, etc. And, it makes me ask, with all the investment of time and money a pet requires, why do we love having pets? You may come up with some other answers, but I come up with two: (1) God has built into us a nurturing instinct. We love to have that which we must nurture and care for. That is one of the rea

This coming Monday, we will celebrate Memorial Day. It is a day that we as a nation have set apart to remember and honor our fallen soldiers. Although we appreciate our current troops, love our veterans (whom we recognize on Veteran’s Day), and miss those veterans who are no longer with us (e.g., my father and uncles), this day has a very specific purpose to it: It is a day to remember and honor those who gave their lives while in service to our nation, often laying down their lives in the midst of heated battle.  Unfortunately, few people will stop and consider the price that has been paid for the freedoms we enjoy as citizens of this great nation. Instead, Memorial Day has become the unofficial start to summer. It is a weekend for BBQ’s, gatherings with friends and family, and maybe a trip to the beach. And, it’s a weekend that retailers use to boost their sales, seeking to draw us in with their sale signs, seeking to get us to buy everything from furniture to grills to cars. Few peo

We all like to hear words of commendation. It’s nice to hear your boss say, “Good job on that project,” or the coach say, “You were a real asset to the team today,” or your spouse say, “You’re such a great husband/wife.”  Such is especially the case when it comes from a parent to a child—no matter how old that child is.  I’ll never forget the first time my father heard me preach. It was after I had been pastoring for about five years. I had been invited back to our home church to preach.  After the service, my dad came to me and simply said, “You’re a good preacher. You’re doing what you’re supposed to be doing.” He didn’t know it at the time, but those words meant all the world to me. For sure others had commended me on my preaching, but coming my father they were quite significant. Those words having come from him, inspired me and gave me the confidence I needed at the time to keep on doing what I felt God had called me to do.  In Matthew’s gospel we read that, after Jesus was baptiz

Today would have been my father’s 96th birthday. He was born on May 10, 1928 but passed away on May 7, 2014, just shy of his 86th birthday. (I can’t believe it’s been 10 years!) So, of course I’ve been thinking about him today. And as I was, I was reminded of a little story that took place a number of years ago—on one of the years when his birthday actually fell on Mother’s Day.  My mom, dad, & me in 1960 Every few years my father’s birthday would fall on Mother’s Day. Such was the case in 1981 during my senior year of college.  At that time, I was going to college and living in the Bronx. Before going home for the weekend, I went into a small bodega in our neighborhood to look for two cards: a Mother’s Day card for mom and a birthday card for dad. In my search, however, I came across one card that said, “Happy Mother’s Day, Mom & Happy Birthday, Dad!” There I had it, one card for both occasions! You might say, “I was able to kill two birds with one stone/card!”  Of course I bo

A couple of weeks ago, Kim and I were traveling north on Route 95, going through Baltimore, MD. As we looked to our right, we could see in the not too far distance the collapsed Francis Scott Key Bridge. It was an amazing sight. After all, it’s not every day one sees a bridge with a huge gap in the middle and no way to get across.   As you may remember, on March 26 a huge cargo ship struck the Francis Scott Key Bridge in Baltimore causing the collapse of the bridge. Six workers who were fixing potholes on the bridge lost their lives. It was a terrible tragedy. And, it’s going to take quite some time and a lot of money to fix the bridge and reconnect the two sides of the channel that were once connected by the bridge. In the meantime, there is no way to get across.   Have you ever reached a point in your life where it just felt like that—i.e., as if there was no way to get across? You have a sense of where you need to get to, but it’s as if the bridge before you has collapsed; the road

For the past few weeks now, I have been awaken by the sound of birds outside our bedroom window, especially a cardinal or two. It seems that they feel that 4:30 in the morning is the perfect time to start their calling. Soon after, all the other birds begin to join in. Before you know it, it’s a cacophony of birds calling, chirping, whistling, singing, and even crowing—all seemingly for the purpose of waking me up (which I do fight against!).  Out of curiosity to know what kinds of birds are in the trees around me, the other day as I was walking Sadie, I turned on the bird ID app that I have on my phone. (Yes, I have a bird ID app on my phone!) I set it on “Sound ID” and began to record the bird calls and songs around me. It quickly listed ten species of birds. There was the cardinal of course. But there was as well a Carolina wren, house sparrow, a woodpecker, mocking bird, and more. That’s a lot of birds in the trees, all trying to wake me up!  Did you know the Bible often refers to