But the mountains look so big!

Aoarki/Mt. Cook at 3,754 meters, NZ's tallest mountain.

In the region where we live we experience a weather phenomenon seen in few other parts of the world. When the wind blows across the Tasman Sea, the 1,200 mile (1,932 kilometer) wide ocean that separates New Zealand from the biggest island (and our nearest neighbor) in the world, Australia, we can be guaranteed at least two things. Rain on the western side of our island, and hot dry winds on the eastern side. 

Foehn winds blow down the leeward side of mountain chains bringing warm dry and generally strong winds with them. The air that goes up the windward side of the mountain may be cool and moist, but during the process of rising it is compressed and cooled, losing moisture, that usually falls as heavy rain, or on the higher reaches, snow. 

This means that it can warm up to a greater extent as it comes back down the other side of the mountain, so the net effect is a warming and drying of the air. In New Zealand we affectionately refer to the wind as a nor’wester, often accompanied by an impressive cloud arch. In North America this wind is called a chinook, which means “snow-eater”. 

If one gets out of bed early enough on the morning of a nor’wester, before the wind blows hard, two other weather related marvels are often seen. Far to the west of Christchurch, the city where I live, a mountain chain rises high into the skies. In dawn’s early light an arch of billowing clouds pile high over the mountains, with an expanse of clear blue sky directly above the mountains. If this arch is still present at sunset, the sky is painted by God’s rich pallet, as deep reds, pinks and vermilion meld into gold of the purest color imaginable. 

The other wonder is an optical illusion that is both enchanting and mysterious. In the morning light the western mountains appear so close that it seems that it would be possible to reach out and touch them… in the evening the effect is reversed, and the hills that lie on the eastern edge of the city seem to have moved during the day and now materialize out of the city itself. The mountains and the hills seemingly grow in size and appear considerably bigger than they are.   

Philippians 4:6

Often, on our journey along the “narrow way” we will be subjected to optical illusions that will make the mountains down the pathway appear to be considerably bigger than they are.  

Our Lord advised us in Matthew: "not to worry or be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will have worries and anxieties of its own. Sufficient for each day is its own trouble". Matthew 6:34

The word "anxious" comes from the Greek word merimnaō and it means to care about, or meditate upon. 

It was Elbert Hubbard, the American writer and philosopher who said "If pleasures are the greatest in anticipation, just remember that this is also true of trouble". 
  
Consider these words of wisdom from Chuck Swindoll:

"Stop reading only the grim sections of the newspaper. Watch less television and start reading more books that bring a smile instead of frown. Locate a few acquaintances who will help you laugh more at life. Ideally, find Christian friends who see life through Christ's eyes, which is in itself more encouraging. Have fun together. Affirm one another." 

It's our choice: we can become captives of fear, or we can challenge it, and master it. 

The beginning of anxiety is the end of faith, and the beginning of true faith is the end of anxiety. In the early 1800's George Muller Massena, one of Napoleon's generals, suddenly appeared with 18,000 soldiers before an Austrian town which had no means of defending itself. The town council met, certain that capitulation was the only answer.

The old dean of the church reminded the council that it was Easter, and begged them to hold services as usual and to leave the trouble in God's hands. They followed his advice. The dean went to the church and rang the bells to announce the service. The French soldiers heard the church bells ring and concluded that the Austrian army had come to rescue the town. They broke camp, and before the bells had ceased ringing, vanished.