Pastor's Devotions by Tim Harris

They say it’s common with dogs, but I’m amazed at how afraid our dog Mabel is of thunderstorms. Whenever she hears even the slightest bit of thunder in the distance, she immediately goes to one of our bedrooms to find what she must consider to be a safe spot. Sometimes even just the darkening of the sky is enough to cause her to go into hiding.   It happened again the other morning. Even before the storm began, I found Mabel hiding next to the bed in my bedroom.   And when I got up to leave the room, Mabel followed, sticking closely to my side. I guess she felt that I could keep her safe—or, at least I gave her a sense of security. Sure enough the storm came with its flashes of lightening, roaring thunder, and pouring rain. And, Mabel just stayed next to me as I did my work, finding some sort of comfort in my presence. The Psalmist wrote, “He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.   I will say of the LORD, "He is my refuge a...

A few days ago, while in Nicaragua, I visited the Masaya volcano. When we reached the top, we found ourselves looking into an awesome crater. The geological configurations were incredible. From the top, we could see for miles around. But, what I didn’t realize until we got there was that, this volcano is active. When we looked down from the rim into the volcano, we could see smoke rising from within it. Within a short time we realized that smoke and smell of sulfur were permeating the air, making it difficult to breathe. After about fifteen minutes we had to leave because of the sensation of the sulfur and smoke getting into our lungs. Even after an hour or more, the affects of the smoke continued to linger in our lungs. The awesomeness of the view and of the volcano itself were overshadowed by the terrible affects of it had upon our breathing. That volcano has become for me a picture of what life is like not only for so many of the people whom we met in Nicaragua, but for so many pe...

This past Monday was Memorial Day. As we do just about every Memorial Day, we attended the parade in which two of our children, Nathaniel and Joanna were marching—Nathaniel playing snare drum in the high school marching band and Joanna marching with the color guard. At one point, you could hear people starting to say, “They’re coming” or “The parade is on its way.” How did they know? Even before they could see any sign of the parade, they had begun to hear the beat of the drums. And, then sure enough the parade turned the corner—the police in full uniform, the band playing patriotic tunes, the civic organizations represented, all to the cheers of the people. It all made me think back to a less then pleasant childhood memory of a Memorial Day parade in the town where I grew up. Again, long before the parade actually appeared I could hear the parade coming. But rather than get excited, I found myself getting nervous, even terrified. Why? Because I knew that each year in the parade ther...

Flat Stanley is a book that is read by most first graders in our area, followed up by a class project. The story is about a boy named Stanley who is literally flattened by a bulletin board that falls on him while he is laying on his bed (OUCH!). Of course it seems terrible. But, Stanley quickly learns that the terrible thing that has happened to him has many benefits—one of which is that he can now be put into an envelope and mailed to different people in different parts of the world. Thus, Stanley goes places and does things he could never have done before. The follow-up project for the students involves coloring in a picture of Flat Stanley and mailing him to a family friend or relative who in turn takes Flat Stanley to all kinds of places. The friend or relative takes pictures of Flat Stanley and sends back both pictures and a letter outlining Stanley’s many adventures. A few weeks ago, I received Flat Stanley from my nephew Billy. (I think Billy is the second or third one to sen...

The other day, while watching my son Nathaniel play a high school tennis match, I looked up and saw a surprising sight: a huge hawk was being chased through the air by five or six much smaller birds. It was quite a sight to see. After all, the hawk with its wingspan of three to four feet was huge and majestic looking. Often I’ve seen it in the area perched on the top of a tree or soaring through the air. At times, I’ve even seen it diving towards the ground in response to the sighting of some prey. But here it was, this majestic bird being chased by a small flock of little birds, each one no bigger than a small robin. I don’t know much about ornithology, but I’m sure there was a reason for the chase (possibly the hawk was threatening the eggs or chicks of the smaller birds). What I do know, however, is that the hawk could have taken out those little birds pretty easily. It seemed to me that all it needed to do was turn around, go on the attack, and the little birds could have been qu...

One day in 1931 a baby boy was born in Indiana, USA.  Twenty-six years later (1957) a second baby boy was born, this one in Saudi Arabia. Each one was just another baby being birthed into our world like millions of babies are birthed each year. Each one, however, would eventually make a tremendous impact on our world--actually changing our world—but for greatly different reasons. One baby grew to become a man of hate, the other a man of love. One became a man of war, the other a man of peace. One became man who killed, the other a man who brought life. This week I heard it said, “When you were born you cried and the people rejoiced. Live your life in such a way that when you die, people cry and you rejoice!” It made me think of these two baby boys. The baby born in 1957 died, or more accurately was killed by our U.S. armed forces, on May 1, 2011. He was none other than Osama Bin Laden, the man whose terror plots led to the deaths of thousands of men and women, including t...

I wonder what the day after Easter—i.e. the day after Jesus’ resurrection—was like for Jesus’ first group of followers. I know what the day after Easter is like for most of us. We go back to work or school. After a day of celebration, we force ourselves to get back into the normal routine of life—albeit a little tired and a still a little full from all the food we’ve eaten. We ask each other, “How was your Easter?” and then go on to talk about the weather or the latest news items. We enjoyed the church services, but now it’s time to get back into the real world of schedules, stocks, and sports. Like the day after any holiday, the day after Easter can even seem to be a bit of a letdown. But I wonder, is that the way it was for Jesus’ first followers the day after they experienced the risen Christ? Did they just get back to the normal routines of their lives? Was it a day of letdown? I don’t think so. I tend think that when they woke up that Monday morning they had to first of all as...