It happens almost without our knowing, quietly at first, then with a force you can’t ignore. A seed, dropped into the soil of your mind, begins to grow and take root and then show signs of fruit. It’s the relationship, the job, the success, the money, the version of yourself that the world finally recognizes and respects. You begin to imagine what that fruit will taste like one day. You convince yourself, deep down, that once it’s fully ripened your hunger will finally be satiated.
You know the feeling. Most of us have organized entire seasons of our lives around chasing that one thing, only to reap a harvest that left us wanting more.
Let me share a story I heard recently. Its origins are a bit cloudy but the details are the same, regardless.
Picture a jungle clearing. Scattered across the ground is more food than a monkey could eat in a week. Bananas everywhere. Free. Unguarded. No strings attached.
But there’s something else in the clearing. He can smell it. He can almost taste it; the scent is intoxicating and before he knows it he’s stepping around the bananas in search of this thing that now controls his every thought. There it is. Tied to a tree in the middle of the field. A coconut. And inside it, hunters have placed something, something irresistible, just visible enough, just fragrant enough, to catch the monkey’s attention and hold it.
His singular focus is obtaining whatever is inside that coconut. He reaches in just far enough and wraps his fist around the thing he desires most. Then he goes to pull his hand out only to find that with his treasure in his grasp, his hand is too wide to come back out.
He’s stuck. Not by force, but by his own choosing.
He pulls. He twists. He screams. He scans his surroundings and sees the abundance scattered all around him; food that requires nothing, costs nothing, asks nothing of him.
All he has to do is open his hand and let go of the thing he so desperately wants.
He won’t. In his mind, he can’t.
The hunters don’t have to hurry. They just walk up and take him.
Sound familiar? Ever grasp that thing you spent a season waiting to harvest only to find that once you have it in your hand you suddenly feel trapped? Or maybe unlike the monkey you actually taste the fruit, yet it doesn’t satisfy so you start looking for more coconuts, stepping over the bananas all around you? The purpose, the peace, the identity you’ve longed for are right there and yet you reach past all of it for the one thing you decided you just had to have. The career that would prove your worth. The relationship that would make you feel chosen. The achievement that would finally silence the voice inside that made you feel you were never enough.
Solomon had everything.
Not almost everything. Not enough to just to be comfortable. Everything. The wealth, the wisdom, the women, the wine, the accomplishments that would make any man’s ambitions look like a child’s drawing of a mansion. He built what he wanted, acquired what he desired, withheld nothing his heart asked for.
And then he sat down and wrote about it.
Vanity of vanities. All is vanity. (Ecc 1:2)
The richest, wisest man who ever lived looked at everything he had constructed and said it wasn’t enough. It never is.
We read that and nod. We quote it in sermons. We put it on coffee mugs.
And then we go back to building.
The world tempts us with coconuts, promising to satisfy, while we ignore the abundance around us. Some of us reach in and grab hold of that thing only to realize we are trapped until we let it go. Others get a taste of what’s inside, just enough to go seeking more coconuts only to find it’s never enough.
I have been that monkey.
The achievements, the validation, the identity I built from things I was convinced I couldn’t survive without. I held on tight. I screamed. I twisted. All while the abundance I actually sought sat unclaimed around me.
Freedom was always there. I just wouldn’t open my hand and let go of the things I thought I needed. Seeing me unable to let go, God showed me kindness and took those things out of my hand, setting me free.
Some lessons you can read about and apply. Others you have to live through before they make any sense. Solomon tried to save us the trouble. Most of us don’t listen. We have to taste the fruit ourselves, find it wanting, and go looking for more coconuts before we finally stop.
I was trapped. I couldn’t let go, so God did what only He could do.
Maybe that’s the prayer, not the doing, but the willing.
And when my hand finally came free, I looked around.
The bananas were still there.
They always were.
— J. Michael Weems