Rolling With the Punches

I did not expect a tiny monkey named Punch to yeet me straight into my feelings but…here we are.

If you’ve been anywhere near the internet lately, you’ve probably seen him — the little Japanese macaque dragging around a stuffed monkey almost as big as he is. Punch was rejected by his mom as an infant. The zookeepers gave him a stuffed monkey to bond with as he tries to acclimate with the other monkeys at the Japanese zoo. He’s small. A little unsure. Still figuring out how to belong.

It’s adorable. It’s heartbreaking. It’s weirdly relatable.

Because I think the reason Punch is viral right now isn’t just because he’s cute. It’s because he’s us.

He’s every person who didn’t get chosen.

He’s every person trying to figure out how to belong.

He’s every person carrying something for comfort while pretending we’re totally fine.

There’s something about watching him drag that stuffed monkey across the concrete that feels almost too close to home.

We laugh because it’s sweet.

But we also see ourselves.

I know I do.

There have been seasons of my life where I’ve felt like Punch — still acclimating. Still learning how to exist in a space that didn’t feel like it chose me first. Carrying things I maybe thought I should’ve outgrown by now. Longing to be a part. Wondering why belonging feels so natural for some and so hard for others.

And if I’m honest, there have been moments I’ve looked up at God and thought,

“Did You mean for it to feel like this?”

Rejected.

Unchosen.

Still trying to adjust.

But here’s what I can’t ignore.

Punch doesn’t stop moving.

He isn’t curled up in the corner giving up. He’s walking. He’s trying. He’s acclimating — stuffed monkey in tow.

And maybe that’s faith sometimes.

Not the triumphant, mountain-top kind.

But the small, stubborn, daily kind.

The kind that says,

“I don’t fully understand this season.

I don’t love how it feels.

But I’m still here.”

Scripture says God is close to the brokenhearted. It doesn’t say He’s only close once we’ve figured it out. It doesn’t say we have to drop our stuffed monkeys first.

Maybe resilience isn’t pretending we’re strong.

Maybe it’s walking forward while still holding onto comfort.

Maybe “rolling with the punches” doesn’t mean you don’t get knocked down —

maybe it means you keep taking steps anyway.

Punch is still acclimating.

And so am I.

Maybe you are too!

And that’s okay.

Maybe God isn’t disappointed that we’re still carrying something soft.

Maybe He just smiles when we keep moving.