Pastor's Devotions by Tim Harris

A few weeks ago a friend and I took a ride down to the Barnegat Lighthouse on Long Beach Island, here in New Jersey. Although I had never been to it, I knew it was a beautiful lighthouse. However, I learned the day before the day we were supposed to go that, beginning in May of this year, the lighthouse began to undergo a restoration process that would supposedly be completed by the end of October. Of course, we all know how fickle those dates can be. And, the most recent pictures of the lighthouse were of it covered in scaffolding. Thus, although I was hoping the work would be finished by time of our visit, I wasn’t really sure or even all that hopeful that such would be the case.  Yet, we took the trip down.  The whole time we were driving down the Garden State Parkway and then crossing the bridge to Long Beach Island, I was wondering what we would find. Would the lighthouse still be covered with scaffolding?  Or, was the renovation work done? I really had no way of kno...

Now that we’re in the midst of baseball’s post-season, and especially because the Yankees are still in it (currently playing for the American League title), I’m watching a lot more baseball than I usually do during the rest of the season. Although baseball is not the fastest moving game, it is a game that is filled with lots of tension and drama. And there is no more tension and drama as when there is a “full count.” When the pitch count reaches three balls and two strikes, the very next pitch is going to end that particular at-bat by means of either a strikeout, a walk, or a hit of some kind. (Actually there may be another foul ball which would count as nothing.) When the pitch count reaches a ”full count,” the next pitch will mean either success for the pitcher or success for the batter. It's no wonder the fans are on their feet cheering. It’s a pressure-cooker moment, especially for the pitcher, for it is up to him to make sure he throws just the right pitch. If he does, he succ...

I know I’ve written a lot recently about my running escapades and what I’ve learned from all the training that led up to the half marathon I ran a couple of weeks ago. But one thing I haven’t mentioned was a lesson I learned the hard way: the need to properly fuel up before, during, and after a long run. You see, when running three, four, even five miles I never really worried too much about how much I needed to eat before beginning the run. Nor did I consider the need for any kind of nutrition during the run. And when finished, I would eat what one might consider to be a pretty normal meal (usually breakfast). However, when running six miles or more I found that I my nutritional needs became quite different. At times, because I hadn’t fueled up properly beforehand or had nothing to keep me fueled up during the run, my body clearly let me know it did not want to keep going; my body was depleted from not being properly fueled up.  After doing a bit of reading (as well as talking it ...

Now that our grandson Jesse is beginning to talk, he is able to refer to Kim and me as “grandma” and “grandpa.” Actually, he says, “ga-ma” (or sometimes, “ra-ma”) and “pa-pa.”  And, if I point to myself and ask, “Who is this?” not only does he answer, “pa-pa” but also, “papou,” which is “grandpa” in Greek! (Imagine at two years old, Jesse already speaks Greek!)  Of course, long before he was saying “ga-ma” and “pa-pa,” he had learned to say,  “momma” and “da-da,” which is only right, I guess.  Like most parents and grandparents, we haven’t taught Jesse to refer to us by our first names. In fact, I for one would find little joy in hearing him call me, “Tim.” That’s the way everyone else in my life refers to me, except for my children who call me, “Dad” (and congregants who call me, “pastor”). Family members and friends, neighbors and sometimes strangers to whom I’ve introduced myself, call me “Tim.” Yes, it’s my name but it says nothing about my relationship with the ...

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, ...

“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 requi...

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 ac...