“Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.”

—Lao Tzu

WHAT’S GOOD

🌱 Garden Work Day—This Saturday at the Farmers Market

Come get your hands dirty with us! Join us this Saturday from 9AM - 1PM during the Farmers Market for a garden work day at Charis Park. It's a great way to connect with neighbors, care for the park, and enjoy a beautiful morning outside. All skill levels welcome—just show up ready to dig in!

A Winding Path

Den Slater, Pastor of Belonging & Formation, Sunset Ridge Church

My great-grandmother was born in 1891, but more importantly, she baked pies. It wasn’t just a hobby. Her skills were practiced, shared, and passed down like an heirloom. She taught my granny, who turned her pie-making into a small business. My mom learned too, and every summer strawberry-rhubarb pies were my favorite thing to find cooling on the counter. They were the kind that drew neighbors in for coffee and “a bite.”

But the chain broke.

My mom wanted something different for me. Academics first; skills like pie-making could wait. And so I grew into adulthood standing in kitchens that felt unfamiliar. They were spaces full of possibility, but the lived experience—the heirloom—was missing.

I suppose other spaces can lose their meaning in a similar way. Take that odd, winding path in Charis Park, the one that doesn’t lead anywhere obvious. It circles, doubles back, and draws inward. From a distance, it can look like something meant for imaginative children, but the labyrinth is a treasure for all of us.

Labyrinths have appeared across many cultures and centuries, and their original meanings and uses aren’t well understood. Still, something about them feels familiar. Inviting. In a world shaped by efficiency and straight lines, the labyrinth offers something quieter. There’s no way to get lost. No dead ends. As you walk, you might notice your pace begin to slow. Your breathing softens. Your attention widens.

If more than one person steps onto the path, then something new happens. You might start to notice each other—some ahead, some behind. You make space. You pass quietly. Without anyone explaining how, a rhythm forms from shared movement. It becomes less about where you’re going and more about how you’re moving together. At a labyrinth in Germany, people began planting flowers and gardening along the path, so it became a place where folks lingered and greeted one another. The soil around their labyrinth probably began to feel something like our Charis Park.

The labyrinth can feel mysterious, but it’s really just a path waiting for footsteps. Over time, as its presence begins to feel familiar, you might feel the invitation to explore your own rhythms along the winding trail. Could you pass by without ever stepping in? Sure. But it’s an open invitation, and there might be something lovely waiting for you to discover. Like a pie cooling on a counter, it beckons us to come and partake of something good. Maybe that’s how new heirlooms are discovered and passed along.