I'm Not Tantalus and God's Not Zeus

It's the monsoon season here in New Mexico.  Growing up just across the line in Texas, we didn't have a monsoon flow.  Most of our rain came in the spring and the fall.  Occasionally we would get a summer thunderstorm.  But for the most part our summers were dry and rather warm.

But over here on the western side of the mountains, the climate is different.  From what I've been told, we stay relatively dry most of the year.  But starting in July, the tipping point is reached and moisture begins to be pumped north and we begin to receive rain.  Obviously, I have no other years to compare this year's monsoon to, but it has seemed somewhat quiet to me.  

One thing does intrigue me about living at the base of the mountain.  Monsoon or not, this summer the mountains have been getting a good soaking.  Almost every afternoon I hear the thunder rumble as the cumulonimbus build up over the areas around Cloudcroft.  I guess there's still a part of me that gets excited when I hear thunder roll.  With great expectations, I lift my eyes to mountains just east of us and secretly hope they find their way west.  I hope they will bring us moisture and cooler temperatures.

But that doesn't happen.  The mountains selfishly rob us of the rain.  They squeeze every drop they can from the skies and leave us thirsty.  On many afternoons as I drive home, I feel like Tantalus.  

(Maybe you remember that story from Greek Mythology.  Like other figures from the Greek stories, Tantalus was punished by Zeus.  Apparently, he was initially welcomed to Zeus' table to eat.  But he decided to steal ambrosia and nectar and share it with humans.  Since Zeus was a selfish and prideful god, he punished his son by sending him to the depths of Tartarus.  His punishment fit his crime.  Since he stole food and drink he would forever be without them.  But it was worse than that.  He was surrounded by fruit hanging from trees.  When he reached up to pick fruit to eat, the branch would move just beyond his reach.  And the pool of water where he lived was the same.  When he reached down to draw a handful of water, the pool would recede.  And, that folks, is where we get the word to tantalize.  But I digress.)

It's hard for me not to become disenchanted with the mountains.  In some ways, I want to believe that we are being punished for some reason.  I want to find a way to make things right so that we too can receive the blessedness of rain.

But you know, that's not what Jesus taught us.  He taught us that God is love and that God sends forth everything that we need.  In fact, he was big on teaching that his Father is not Zeus.  Unlike Zeus, God enjoys giving us things.  From the very beginning of the Bible, we are told that God created the world for humanity.  He turned the Garden over to us to manage, to use, and to enjoy.  Jesus tells us that God sends the rain to the just AND the unjust.  He reminds us that a life of blessing is God's desire for every person.  

So as I lift my eyes to the mountains and I see the rain falling up there, I remind myself that mountain rains are a beautiful thing.  I remember that God has always provided for me and my family and that I have an opportunity to provide for others by being a blessing.  Even when it doesn't rain here in the desert, I know that God loves me and that he never tantalizes me.  Instead, he always provides.

Until next time...

Dustin

Sometimes I just sits...

Last week we had the opportunity to spend some time with my family camping in the mountains of Southern Colorado.  When I was a kid we spent at least a week every summer camping somewhere.  I have a lot of fun memories playing with my cousins in the rivers, fishing, and exploring the mountainous areas so different from the plains of West Texas.

This was the first camping trip that all six of us were able to go on in about 7 years.  We all had a really good time and were able to relax in the cool mountain air after all of the hubbub of our move and transition this summer.

One afternoon I had quite a bit of down time.  A couple of people took a nap, some were playing a game, while the rest decided to spend some time reading.  For whatever reason, none of those activities appealed to me at that moment.  I felt restless; I needed to do something but nothing sounded like a worthwhile pursuit.  I decided that perhaps I just needed to get away for a bit and visit with God.

Right above our tent was an outcropping of rock that overlooked the hamlet of Platoro.  I decided that would be the ideal place for me to have a short retreat.  As I sat on the ground surrounded by immense majesty, I began to pray.  For some reason I thought that God would take that time to communicate with me.  Perhaps he would give a profound truth, taking me deeper in my spiritual journey.  Maybe he would give me insight into leading Grace UMC.  Or maybe, just maybe, he would speak to me with words that would transform the way I pastor, teach, and disciple.

But as I sat there, waiting, waiting waiting, nothing happened.  I became restless.  My mind wouldn't focus and I had a hard time praying.  Why?  Why would it be harder to pray while sitting quietly in a beautiful landscape intentionally seeking God than it is in my office, in the car, or other places where distractions happen all of the time?  After all, didn't Jesus say "My sheep listen to my voice.  I know them and they follow me...?"

I thought, "Well God, I am listening.  Here I am.  Speak."  But nothing happened.  All I heard was the river rushing far below, the birds singing, the chipmunks chattering, and laughter from my kids and sister playing a game.  The longer I sat there, the more frustrated I became.  My mind raced with doubt and questions.  Why wasn't he speaking?  Was he upset with me?  Did I do something wrong?  Had he abandoned me?

As I sat with these questions whirling around me, an ant caught my eye.  The more I focused on the activity of the ant the less concerned I was with the questions.  I watched him move across the ground in search of something.  First he darted in one direction then suddenly, without prior notice, he darted in another direction.  Seemingly oblivious of me or anything else around him he continually searched.  As I watched him, I couldn't help but laugh out loud.  He was so disorganized, so disjointed in his pursuit of something.  I wanted to tell my little ant friend to slow down.  I wanted to tell him to settle down, think things through, make a plan, and then calmly move forward.

And that's when it hit me.  I was the ant.  God had watched all of the activity I had been through over the past several weeks and he had probably (and with good reason) chuckled at my darting around.  I remembered the story of Jesus calming the storm with his hand and the disciples' awe-filled response "He commands even the winds and the water, and they obey him!" Surely I am smarter and more obedient than winds and water.  So for the next hour I just sat on my rock and I was.  My mind no longer wandered.  I didn't receive any wondrous revelations.  There was no amazing transfiguration of my spiritual life.  I just sat there and I was Dustin.

I never heard God's voice or direction that afternoon.  I just sat in his presence.  No praying, no listening, no wild pursuit of something.  Honestly, it was nice.  Maybe I can learn that discipline better.  Just before I got up to rejoin the family, I remembered a sign on the wall at my good friend Ken Lane's house.  It states, "Sometimes I sits and thinks and sometimes I just sits."  Well Ken, I am learning to "just sits" too.

Until next time...
Dustin

I will tell you what God has done for me...

When I first arrived here at Grace, I was trying to think of ways that I could engage the other staff members and be able to integrate myself into their team.  One night as I was thinking about it, I had the idea that I should have a one-on-one time with each of them.  My hope was that I would do most of the listening while they talked about themselves.  Looking back on that idea, I realize now that it was a direct revelation of God's wisdom through the Holy Spirit into my brain.

You see, over the past two weeks the staff have made appointments with me for this time of listening.    I have asked them to share with me their spiritual journey.  I wanted them to feel free to visit with me while not feeling obligated to share everything.  I have to admit, each time I have sat down with them I have been blown away by their stories.  Time after time I have heard them share powerful testimonies of God calling them out of the world.  I have heard of his amazing protection during physically dangerous situations.  I have heard their frustrations, their triumphs, their pains, and even their healings...all the while learning to trust God and turning their lives over more and more to God's guidance and leading.

Sometimes, I think that we forget that God is at work in lives across the world.  While God might be comforting us through a trial or pain, he is also celebrating with someone else through a time of joy.  While we might feel distant from God, someone else feels closer to him than they ever have.

I guess what these interviews have done for me is to help me understand these men and women with whom I am now in ministry.  Their stories are now a part of me.  I was amazingly blessed through them.  I have told the staff more than once how excited I am to be in ministry with them.  But now that I've finished the interviews, I have to admit that I am the one who needs to take a backseat to them.  These people are truly the salt of the earth...they are the lights of the world taking Christ's light to others.

I am humbled knowing that they have trusted me with their stories...they have made themselves vulnerable by sharing their spiritual intimacy with me.  In Psalm 66 we are told "Come and see God's deeds; his works for human beings are awesome:...Come close and listen, all you who honor God; I will tell you what God has done for me..."

The truth behind these words is what makes our testimonies so powerful.  People can argue about the existence of God, they can claim the Bible is bogus, and they can even doubt that a man named Jesus ever lived.  But what they can't take from us...what they can never disprove is our own testimony.  As a Church, we must always be ready to tell people what God has done in our lives.  We must always be prepared to share God's mighty deeds in our lives.

So this week, share your stories.  Become vulnerable to your brothers and sisters in Christ.  Tell others what God has done.  The psalmist is exactly right, God's works for human beings are awesome!

Until next time...


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Back on Track

Well, it's no secret, my family and I have moved.  This past spring my district superintendent called and told me that the cabinet had been discussing my gifts and graces for ministry and that they believed that it was time for us to pack up and head West.  After discussing it with Myranda and the girls and praying about it, we agreed to the appointment.

I have to admit that I do enjoy moving.  I like meeting new people, seeing new places, and experiencing God in new and exciting ways.  However, I hate the process!  The packing, the purging, and the scheduling is always a nightmare.  In the midst of gearing up for the move it dawned on me that two areas of my life were going to take a direct hit.  Both of these things I have learned not only to enjoy but to cherish as a part of my daily schedule.  They are my prayer time and my exercise time.

About a month before the move, I began to pray that God would give me a double portion of his Spirit.  I know myself well enough to realize that in the process of transitioning from one place to another that my prayer life would take a major hit.  So I began to build up "Spiritual Fat."  I prayed longer, I asked God's grace to see me through, and I asked for him to meet me on the other side of the move.

But my exercise was another story.  I really have learned to love my treadmill.  Over the past few months it has become a fixture for me.  It is no longer a burden.  I love the way it hums.  I enjoy seeing the miles trickle by and the calorie counter increase.  As I watched it loaded onto the truck, I realized that there was no way that I could store up extra miles like I did with my prayer life.

So for almost two weeks I didn't exercise and I didn't have deep prayer time.  After I got settled in and Mykaylee found the key to the treadmill, I finally was able to resume my routine.  As it so happened, my first day on the treadmill was the same day that I restarted my prayer time.  Boy did it feel good!  It felt great to challenge my legs again.  As my heart began to race and my lungs expanded from the increased activity, I could feel my body fit back into its groove.

Paul wrote to his son in the faith Timothy, "Train yourself for a holy life!  While physical training has some value, training in holy living is useful for everything.  It has promise for this life now and the life to come."  I think I understand his words better now than I ever have in the past.  Training my body and my spirit for a holy life is a good thing.  Both the physical training and the holy living make me a better person.  They help form me and fashion me the way God intends for me to be.

So today, I thank God for meeting me where I am and for sustaining me during times of transition.  I love the fact that God's grace never quits and will even carry us through until we can get back on our feet.  Most of all, I'm thankful that my training is back on track...both physically and spiritually.

Until next time...





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Lessons and Criticism

Any time that a person has a public profile, criticisms become common place.  I've been told by more than one person that "so and so" is your worst critic.  But that's really not true.  In my understanding of who I am as a child of God, as a parent, as a son, and as a pastor, I have learned that I am my own worst critic.  I have learned to be honest with myself.  After all, how else is a person going to grow?  The only way that I know of to gain wisdom is to make mistakes and learn from them.  If I continue to make the same mistake over and again without learning from it, then that is mere foolishness.

Times of transition are the perfect opportunity for me to look back...to reflect upon who I have been, the mistakes I've made, and hopefully how I have grown.  I learned many years ago that I am not the most brilliant scholar.  I have struggled with math my entire life.  I don't understand the mechanics of most machines.  My communication skills are not always up to par.  Sometimes I come across as being gruff when I'm trying to process what is happening around me.  Because I'm an introvert, I am awkward in many social situations.  I can be hard headed at times.  And if I'm not careful, I can be perceived as being arrogant.

So yes, I am well aware of my shortcomings.  But I'm also aware of God's intervention in my life.  Even though I still have many faults and I need to grow in certain areas, I also know that God has grown me.  Through adversity I have learned the amazing teaching of Jesus about forgiveness.  Seventy times seven, Lord?  Yes indeed!  I thank God I've learned that lesson.  Dying to self is the only real way to live life?  Oh, that is certainly true.  I thank God I've learned that one.  The last will be first?  Thank God for that lesson! Generosity (yes I mean money) as a way of life?  This lesson has given me great joy.  And the most recent lesson I have learned, that I must suffer in the name of Jesus.  That lesson has taught me to expect suffering because it is a gauge, telling me if I am truly being a Christ follower.

Now, I'll admit that I don't always live these lessons out to their fullest degree.  But I can guarantee that I have come a long way over the past three years.  By God's grace, I have matured.  My skills have become sharper.  The Holy Spirit has honed in on some of my weaknesses and made me better than I was.  I am more prepared now than I was in 2011 to be a servant-leader.  I think I do look a little more like Jesus now than I did.

Last year at my ordination, the Bishop asked me and the other ordinands one of the historic questions from our tradition.  "Are you going on to perfection?"  I really like this question.  It doesn't ask if we are perfect...it asks if we are moving in that direction.  And as I look back upon the past few years I see even more clearly than I did last year.  So my answer is again, "Yes Bishop, by God's grace, I am."

Until next time...

Dustin

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