“Behind every mountain is another mountain.”
This quote came to mind often during our trip to Colorado as mountains loomed, one after another after another.
Vast.
Towering.
Seemingly endless.
No matter which way we turned or which road we took, the horizon stretched with staggered ridge lines, as far as we could see.
Peak after peak stood side by side, shoulder to shoulder, as if the landscape itself meant for us to understand: your journey is never just one climb.
Upon first consideration, that truth can feel heavy. Daunting, even.
But when I look at this photo and remember the beauty I was privileged to behold, I see something else. Something more.
I see the faithfulness of a God who never beckons us to hard places without a purpose.
The climbs we face are not without design.
Neither are they punitive.
They are preparation. They are provision. They are the proving ground for who God is causing us to be.
They are allowed, not to destroy us, but to employ us—each harrowing step, a part of His plan to produce what comfort never will.
Mallory famously explained his reason for attempting to summit Everest with this simple statement: “Because it’s there.”
Not so in God’s economy. The climbs He ordains are not arbitrary. They are appointed.
God calls us upward because there is glory at stake. There is something He is up to in our lives that will only become ours as we ascend.
The summit holds the view, but it’s the struggle to get there that gives the mountaintop its meaning.
The climb begins with surrender, but culminates in joy, offering what we will not have any other way:
Growth.
Perspective.
Understanding.
A deeper revelation of who He is, and who we are becoming under His care.
Scripture tells us that God gives us hinds’ feet on high places, not to bypass the mountain, but to scale it with grace.
If there is a mountain in front of you, beloved, it is not there by chance.
It is sacred. It is specific. It is shaping you into who you have never been.
So if you are weary or despairing, if the path feels steep and setbacks abound, take heart.
Keep climbing.
And when you reach the summit, when you finally stand in the place where glory meets you and beauty greets you, it will all make sense.
Every bit of it:
The sorrow.
The struggle.
The reason.
The redemption.
The realization that transformation isn’t the reward for reaching the top, but the result of trusting Him on the way there.
So climb, brave ones, confident in the One who charts your course.
He who called you upward has a purpose for every detour, every obstacle, every weary, winding step.
Transformation is the goal, and the mountain is the means by which it becomes yours—step by resolute step.
So don’t lament the mountains that mark your path.
Celebrate them for the sacred role they play in God’s unfolding plan to shape you into who you were always meant to be.
The Lord God is my strength, and he will make my feet like hinds’ feet, and he will make me to walk upon mine high places. To the chief singer on my stringed instruments.
~ 𝐇𝐚𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐤𝐮𝐤 𝟑:𝟏𝟗