climb a mountain

This morning, I climbed a mountain. The sun was already high in the bright blue sky, the heat radiating off the rocks as I ran. The gravel crunched under my feet as my steps took me higher, my lungs screaming from the effort. When I reached the summit, I spun around in a slow circle to take in the view.

Everything looks so small from up high—the cars speeding down the highways, the houses nestled in their neighborhoods. It’s amazing what a change in view can offer you. 

In Matthew 14:23 it talks about how Jesus “went up into a mountain apart to pray.” Mountains are referenced in scripture multiple times; they’re a symbol of ascension, of climbing to a higher plane to meet with God. 

As I stood on my own little mountain this morning, taking in the view, I experienced a much-needed perspective shift. I visualized my life like the scene set before me. There were hills and valleys, pockets of shadows and golden rays of light, and far too many colors to name. As I took in the view, I realized that our God has this view of each of us: panoramic and full color. He sees it all and appreciates its variety. No problem looks too big; no mountain is too tall. He is completely zoomed out on the timeline of our lives while being completely zoomed in on the status of our hearts. 

What a marvel to contain such multitudes. It blows my mind in the best possible way. 

I spend far too much of my time totally zoomed in on the wrong things—unhelpful thoughts, perceived threats, wrongdoings of others, prideful behavior, and my ever-present weaknesses. In J.D. Peabody’s beautiful book, Perfectly Suited: The Armor of God for the Anxious Mind, he shares this story: 

“In a counseling session one day, my therapist held a notebook directly in front of my nose. ‘What can you see?’ he asked. The question had such an obvious answer it was hardly worth asking. I couldn’t see anything but paper. ‘This is what your mind is doing,’ he continued, still holding the yellow legal pad. “It is making it so you can’t pay attention to anything or anyone around you. What is that doing for you?’” 

It’s like that thing we do when we wash our faces at night. Before you know it, you’re leaning in too close to the mirror, examining enlarged pores, clusters of blemishes, and the deepening wrinkles around your eyes. Suddenly, everything is a problem.

But when I lean back, I see my whole face. I look into my eyes and I see her—the woman rather than the problem. I see the daughter of God who is infinitely more than a collection of features or the reflection in the mirror. When I zoom out rather than in, that’s when I truly know myself. 

Climbing a mountain, or in other words, seeking God’s grace-filled, zoomed-out perspective, allows me to take in the whole picture. It inspires me to stop obsessing over what doesn’t matter and to start focusing on what does. If Jesus Christ—who lived a perfect, sinless life—climbed mountains to spend time with our Father, how much more do we need to climb? And lucky for us, our Savior knows every inch of every mountain, and He’s willing to ascend with us every time we’re willing to try. 

So climb a mountain today, my friends. Reach out in prayer and ask for help. Seek to understand His will for you. Ask the Lord how He feels about you.

I promise you’ll enjoy the view.