In January, I attended a prophetic prayer session at my church. A woman who prayed for me said, “When you walked in the room with your rain boots and jacket, I pictured you climbing a mountain. Although the journey was difficult, you stuck with it.”
I thought about her statement last night and drew a picture of a tall mountain in my journal. I added little footsteps to show my journey and drew flags to mark significant points. The mountain I drew yesterday was simple one: an upside down ‘v’ with no rough edges. This morning, the Lord corrected my drawing. No mountain is smooth like the letter ‘v.’ They’re more of a rough zigzag climbing upward like line graphs. I redrew my picture, and at the top of each rough peak that rests within the mountain, I planted a flag and labeled it.
As we climb up the mountain, we head toward Jesus. Some of our mountains are taller than others’ mountains. Some mountains face more rainstorms. Some are wrapped in blizzards. Others have dense fog or a lot of sunshine. I think my mountain is a dry, unbearably hot mountain; I would much rather have a mountain with too much snow than a mountain scorched by the sun with no rain in sight.
I think I’ve been hiking this particular mountain for a while. There were times when I thought I finally reached the top, only to find that the tall peak within the mountain had fooled me. I had climbed a great height, but the mountain was still higher. When we reach that point when we are tired and have already trudged a great distance, we have a choice. We can go back. Sometimes, if we squint, we can still see base camp. Our friends may be there. A restroom. A warm fire and a hot bath. Something precious we left behind, like a person, home or a job. Or, we can look up at the great height before us, knowing that we can make it with Christ by our sides taking just one step at a time. We’ve come this far; what’s the point in going back?
I don’t think I have been to the top of a mountain before. I’ve been to the top of small peaks within the mountain and marveled at the view, how far I had come, and the strength I gained. But I wonder what it is like at a mountain’s highest peak. What’s the air like there? Is the view as epic as the landscapes in nature documentaries? Is it quiet? I hope to find out soon, but until then, I will keep climbing up one step at a time.
In Rachel's Words 
I love this! We just read Mother to Son in my student teaching class today and there’s a similar motif of climbing up that the mountain climb reminded me of
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I had never heard of that poem before. I read it and liked it. 🙂
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Rachel,
As usual, your devotional writings are great, as they stir my heart.
You write, “As we climb up the mountain, we head toward Jesus.” That is correct! You go on to say, “I think my mountain is a cold, blustery mountain.” That might well be the case—if so, you should rejoice, knowing that you are a candidate for the manifestation of the glory of God.
By the way, I love those prophetic prayers and words. They are the affirmation of God’s plan in one’s life—sometimes they confirm what the Lord has already spoken/shown to us, other times they pointed to what we will discover down the road. Be blessed.
Hailu.
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🙂 I suppose there are some prophetic words mixed in there. Things just kind of come out when I write, and I don’t distinguish… I consider it all a part of the narrative.
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