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