The Monkey And The Tree

Think Like A Monkey.

It began this morning in prayer.

I was praying in tongues. Softly. Searching. Not because I felt particularly spiritual but because I needed help. There was pressure in the air. Invisible resistance. As if something was standing in the way no matter what I said or did.

That’s when the whisper came.

The monkey and the tree.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t explained. Just a phrase. Quiet. Odd. But it landed in my spirit like a small stone dropped into still water. Ripples followed. Curiosity woke up. And my heart leaned in.

I began to perceive what I can only describe as a picture in my spirit.

There was a tree. Towering. Rooted. Alive with stillness. The kind of stillness that comes from strength. I thought of Psalm 1. The tree planted by rivers of water that brings forth fruit in its season. I thought of John 15, where Jesus says He is the Vine and we are the branches. I thought of Galatians 3 and the tree where He became the curse for us.

This tree felt like Christ. Solid. Unshaken. Covering. Life-giving.

Then I saw the monkey.

Not terrifying. Not evil in a traditional sense. Just wild. Busy. Unpredictable. It leapt from branch to branch. Grabbed at leaves. Flung pieces of fruit. Kicked at things. Not trying to hurt the tree. Just trying to be seen. To stir. To distract.

And something in me began to understand.

Not every spiritual attack comes like a lion. Sometimes it comes like a monkey.

Sometimes it is not a full-on assault. It is the irritation. The noise. The sudden distraction. The unpredictable words. The movement you weren’t prepared for. The person who pulls you into pointless arguments. The pressure to react. To chase. To respond.

I realized I had been swinging at everything. Warring. Declaring. Rebuking. But in this moment, I sensed I did not need a sword. I needed to be still.

The monkey’s goal, as far as I could perceive, was not destruction. It was disruption.

It could not uproot the tree. But it could tempt the branch to detach.

And then came the scripture.

Abide in me and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself unless it abides in the vine neither can you unless you abide in me.

John 15 verse 4.

That was the answer.

Not to react. Not to chase. Not to fight noise with noise. But to remain. To cling. To rest in the presence of the Tree.

It reminded me that the enemy does not always come to devour. Sometimes he comes to distract. And if he cannot break your faith, he will try to break your focus.

Maybe that is why Jesus said abide. Not strive. Not prove. Abide.

So I stayed in prayer. I did not chase the thoughts or the pressure or the monkey. I stayed with the Tree.

The monkey kept swinging. But I did not follow.

And slowly, the noise began to fade. Not because the monkey stopped, but because my attention shifted. I was no longer answering its call. No longer reacting. No longer trying to fix or control or manage what was never mine to carry.

I breathed.

I began to notice the stillness again. The rootedness. The presence of Christ that had never moved.

There was peace there. Not loud. Not sudden. But deep. Weighty. Like water settling after a storm.

And I thought again of the Tree.

He is not shaken by movement. He does not sway when things climb and swing and pull. He remains. He holds. He nourishes. He covers.

I realized that victory did not look like silence from the monkey. It looked like silence in me.

The silence that comes when trust has taken root.

Maybe that is the invitation. Not to chase every disruption. But to return again and again to the One who does not move. The One who simply says,

Abide in me.

And so I did.

I stayed with the Tree.

And that was enough.

What has been swinging through your peace today?

Are you willing to let it swing while you stay with the Tree?

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