“Then the Lord said to Moses, ‘Come up to Me on the mountain and be there; and I will give you tablets of stone, and the law and commandments which I have written, that you may teach them.’ So Moses arose with his assistant Joshua, and Moses went up to the mountain of God” (Exodus 24:12-13 NKJV).
I can still see them—my pastor-father and the men of our church, silhouetted against the Alabama sky on Lookout Mountain. There, suspended above Gadsden, they were like faithful sentinels interceding for the souls in the sprawling valley below. The city lay before us like an opened palm, each street a lifeline etched into the landscape with the Coosa flowing lazily south.
Lookout Mountain never pierces the clouds. It makes no claims to rival Sinai or Zion. Yet on those holy afternoons, when the men’s prayers rose like incense into the shimmering southern heat, that modest elevation became our Mount of Transfiguration. No physical preparation was needed—only the willingness to push through the drowsy pull of afternoon, to shake off the comfortable numbness of doubt, to trade earthly rest for heavenly pursuit.
I was just a boy then, but I learned something profound about ascending into God’s presence. As their voices called out to heaven, the Spirit would descend, thick and tangible as summer air. In those moments, the boundary between earth and heaven grew gossamer-thin. The mundane mountain became a ladder to the divine, each voice a rung lifting us higher.
That sacred experience planted something in me—a seed that would grow into my own spiritual odyssey. Now I understand that every believer must make this climb, not up physical peaks, but through the challenging terrain of the soul. Each spiritual step demands faith that reaches beyond what eyes can see, obedience that persists when the path grows steep, and perseverance that pushes through the temptation to retreat to easier ground.
The journey up God’s mountain requires a heart that spurns the valley’s comforts, that yearns for holy air. For while the valley offers ease, the mountain promises presence—and some thirsts can only be quenched at a higher elevation.
There’s something profoundly moving about hearing God’s invitation: “Come unto me…” These words echo through centuries, reminding us that the Creator of the universe desires fellowship with His creation. What an extraordinary privilege! Just as He called Moses to the mountain, He calls each of us into deeper communion with Him.
In His presence, something remarkable happens. His Spirit works within us, gradually transforming us into the image of His Son, taking us from one degree of glory to the next (2 Corinthians 3:18). Like Moses, God has a divine purpose for each of us – truth to embrace, wisdom to receive, and commands to share with others.
Have you noticed a pattern in God’s calls? He always invites us upward to His mountain, never downward into valleys. Though we may walk through valleys – as David describes in Psalm 23 – His rod and staff guide and encourage us toward higher ground, toward deeper intimacy with Him. Every trial becomes a stepping stone to greater heights in our spiritual journey.
From the base of Mount Sinai, the Israelites witnessed what appeared to be a consuming fire atop the mountain (Exodus 24:17). Yet Moses experienced something very different at the summit – a cloud veiling God’s glory. When God called, Moses stepped into that cloud without hesitation, demonstrating the kind of trust God desires from us.
This teaches us something profound: experiencing God’s glory often requires stepping into the unknown. We must enter the cloud that shields His majesty, even when we can’t see the path clearly. It’s in His presence that the fire from His altar does its purifying work, consuming our sin and cleansing us from all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9).
God’s invitation always comes with a promise. “Come unto me… and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). These words remind us that He’s not just calling us to duty – He’s calling us to rest in His completed work on Calvary. He has abundant grace to teach those who respond to His call, just as He had holy commandments to teach Moses.
The mountain of God’s presence still stands before us today. Every moment presents an opportunity to climb higher, to press deeper into His fellowship. The choice is ours: Will we remain at the base of the mountain, fearfully observing from a distance, or will we, like Moses, respond and faithfully ascend into God’s glory?
Today, that same invitation echoes from heaven, “Come up to ME.” Will you accept it and climb higher?
Dear Father, thank you for your inspiration and insights presented in this blog. May its message inspire all who read it to climb higher into your presence and fellowship. In the name of Jesus. Amen