The Mountains yet to Be Conquered

We celebrate with Christ the arrival of adulthood. After all, each year, although the calendar leading toward eternity appears hostile and at odds with us while we live amid this wounded humanity, at the same time, and once and for all, we stop thinking about “the burden” of our countdown—…5, 4, 3, 2…1!—and turn our gaze toward Christ, who is the glorious goal. Since the old age to come with Christ will bring us closer each day to this promise, enjoying full adulthood in His vineyard today becomes an astonishing and indescribable state of grace.

But there are always “mountains” in life—mountains we must conquer at all costs because the Lord gave them to us as an inheritance, not because we deserve them, but simply because those mountains too, whether blessings or apparent obstacles, are messengers of His grace. Even so, we must conquer them, even if the endeavor costs us our lives and at times we believe that our strength will not be enough to accomplish it. There are “mountains” of blessing and others of surprises, some of transgression and others of greatness, but they all belong to the Lord. In ancient times, “mountains” were regarded as sacred territories, symbols of eternity (Genesis 49:26), strength, and stability, because God is incomparably strong and unchanging. “Mountains” also represent life’s tortuous obstacles. The “mountains,” whatever they may be, tremble before the Lord because He is more powerful than they are (Job 14:18). By divine will, the “mountains” were the setting for His great interventions, intended to exalt the solemnity and authority of His message (Deut. 27; Josh. 8:30–35).

Winter resembles adulthood, which is when the man of God begins to become more closely akin to hope. And hope is Christ. And there will always be mountains to tear down for Him, to inherit from Him, and to conquer for Him.

In the year that has just begun, I invite you to take inventory of your mountains so that you may focus on the new conquest of the mountains you have yet to claim for the praise of His glory, to establish—or reestablish—your pillars and plant new olive trees in the fertile soil of your Bethel, where the one and perfect God dwells forever. There you will neither reach old age nor even be an adult, but a root, and you will leave a legacy for all the Calebs who decide one day to defeat giants in His name.

Venture into your “mountains,” for there is no giant our God cannot bring down. You will see how much you resemble Elijah, Moses, David, or Esther. I pray to God that on this new journey He will renew your faith and invigorate your conquering spirit, and that you will feel that the Good Shepherd has given you new strength like an eagle’s, so that you will wait no longer for your inheritance and will cry out:—Lord, give me this mountain now!