CG Technology

Pastor’s Perspective – February

by CG Technology
Published: February 5, 2025
Categorized as: Uncategorized

I found a book recently, at our local Scout and Morgan of course, that had a ‘staff choice’ sticker on the front. The cover was beautiful, the title grabbed me right away, and the sticker had me picking it up as swiftly as I laid eyes on it. I skimmed about 10 pages, as I often do when hunting for treasure in the isles of a bookstore, and I immediately knew it was coming home with me. The book, Spirit Wheel: Meditations From An Indigenous Elder by Steven Charleson. The impact, still infinitely undiscovered short reflections and prayers that I’m hoping will continue to bless my mornings for years to come; as they already have. The meditations range from powerful to inspiring, from comforting to challenging, and so much more. With each, I am left to savor its words, often rereading several times and chewing on the insights they offer.

By now you’ve likely figured out that I’m going to share one with you. It’s the kind of meditation that’s honest, the kind that doesn’t settle, the kind that understands that a spiritual life is one of deep questions and longings. It’s a meditation that understands the depths of love and demands more of it. So many of us are sitting this year with big heavy hearts as we watch the world suffer on what feels like an endless hamster wheel. I want to remind us, myself included, that we can still find beauty amongst this chaos. I want to share the good stories, spend less time doom scrolling, remember to stop and smell the roses, to know that God’s love is ever present. Because if we don’t I think we’ll lose our humanity. And yet, we also still grieve, still gather, still live in the reality that the world is not the way it should be. So with all of this in mind, and so much more I don’t have enough space to write, I give you this meditation. I’d suggest reading it more than once.

Pastor Amelia

The Dignity of the Question, by Steven Charleston

I have stood on the edge of a midnight canyon

And called out my question into silent shadows: Why?

Why suffering? Why Pain?

Why the hurt that haunts our lives?

Why the wrong that overwhelms the good?

I get no answer, only an echo.

I will go on asking

Until the next generation of questioners takes my place.

Suffering will not have the last word

Not without challenge.

We may not know the reason

But we will have the dignity of the question.