Eli stood at the base of the tallest tree in the valley — an ancient cypress whose branches stretched like arms longing for heaven.
Little EcoSprout stared up at it, wide-eyed. “What is this tree, Eli? I’ve never seen anything so tall!”
Eli smiled, brushing bark with his fingertips. “This, dear one, is the Watchtower Tree. Long ago, it was used to look out over the land. Prophets, shepherds, and seekers would climb it to pray for the people and warn of dangers. But now, many pass it by without even a glance.”
EcoSprout circled it reverently. “Can I climb it?”
Eli nodded. “With care. And when you reach the top… open your heart to listen.”
With determination and grace, EcoSprout ascended, each limb a rung in a ladder of faith. As they neared the crown, the wind grew strong, and clouds began to stir above.
Then it came — a vision, vivid and undeniable.
From the heights, EcoSprout saw the land sprawled in every direction. Fields, rivers, mountains — and also sorrow. Waters choked with plastic. Birds flying confused circles where forests had been. Smoke rising from waste fires. And people — God’s image-bearers — scrolling, consuming, forgetting.
Tears welled in EcoSprout’s eyes.
“How could this happen?” they whispered.
A voice like thunder and whisper echoed in the wind:
“Who is watching still?”
Suddenly, a flash of light — not lightning, but revelation — filled the sky. The words of the prophets came rushing back like the roar of a river:
“Son of man, I have made you a watchman… hear the word I speak and give them warning from Me.” — Ezekiel 33:7
“I will stand at my watch and station myself on the ramparts; I will look to see what He will say to me…” — Habakkuk 2:1
EcoSprout clutched the uppermost branch and prayed aloud through tears:
“Lord, I see now. Creation cries out. Make me a watchman. Let me speak, move, and love as You do. Show me what to do.”
Down below, Eli knelt, listening.
When EcoSprout descended, they were quiet at first. Not out of fear — but out of reverence.
“I saw…” EcoSprout began.
“I know,” Eli said gently. “That tree gives vision. But it also demands response.”
They sat at the roots together as the wind softened.
“Being a watchman means three things,” Eli said. “You pray, so that heaven’s will touches Earth. You warn, so that others awaken. And you act, for faith without works is dead.”
EcoSprout looked back up at the tree.
“Can I build a platform up there? So more can see what I saw?”
Eli’s eyes twinkled. “That’s what EcoServants do.”
🕊️ Reflection:
There are trees in your life — old truths, ancient words — that can lift you above the noise and show you what matters.
Creation is not silent. But the world has stopped listening.
Will you take your place in the watchtower?
Will you pray for the rivers, speak for the birds, act for the soil?
Let this be your calling.
The world needs watchmen again — not just on walls of cities, but on hillsides and coastlines, in forests and fields, in homes and churches.
Let it begin with you.