Hammock, A Representation of Love

Deciding on a particular hammock is no careless endeavor, somber contemplation and seriousness of thought, should be weighed with careful consideration when choosing type, look, or feel. Firmness, length, width, and in the case of even more romantics such as I, one might add the scent, and even degree of which it wraps itself around you, must be considered.

That being said, I’m sure if Paul would have been a Hammock maker instead of a tent maker, Biblical text may have included such references as; “Consider men of God, if ye may or may not even dare possess a hammock, not being for all, one according to his faith, but if it is to be that a hammock being something you can not live without, then I should recommend you have one, but remember brethren it is a choice that can only be made with the deepest contemplation and reverence…” or something like that. But thankfully he wrote it not me!

So I being a man, of Jesus I may add, and the most reverent of respect for all of God’s spectacular creation, considering the possibility of a hammock just may find its way into my life someday, I am ever steadfast running my race, considering the King of Kings as He grants blessing upon blessing into the hands of this simple man.

The first thing I might consider if said hammock might even be a vivid thought touching the vulnerable ear of this man’s all to often broken heart. Is, do I want to risk, such treasure at this point in my life? Broken hearts can leave such scars, and while Jesus has the ability to heal all wounds, certain scars are more like battle wounds, worn as medals of honor well into the physicality of new body for all time… at least I think.

Let’s suppose our not so young warrior, yet again feels that taking the plunge into the void of losing his heart to the grips of a hammock is worth putting himself yet again out there in a vulnerable way.

The first thing that would have to occur is a long dialog of contemplation, serious examination of all parties involved.

An exchange of words first, bantering of ideas, and verbal feeling each other out, this will have to play itself into existence for a longer exchange of time, in a way he has never considered before in his life. The risk of his gentle heart, but more so, the promise he has made to the Father, “this time do it right”, dictates not only that a best friend situation develop long before even the remote consideration of a future hammock may manifest, but he has also promised his Lord that to give justice to the Gift, the Father has so graciously blessed him with, dictates that he investigates, gets to know completely, and gives praises for every aspect of this gift before him, long before he is allowed to venture forth onto the next level of discovery.

He starts with only a verbal investigation, breathing in the beauty of every scented word she speaks, letting them play softly on the surface of his old heart, touching in almost feathery gentleness as only the most Godly small seeds can make. It cultivates with the Word every step of the way, being rained on with the very waters of Christ, like the many tears he sheds in thanksgiving day. Then miraculously waiting on God to grow a beautiful garden, if He so desires.

Every pedal she speaks is cherished as if from the very mouth of God, because in essence as a daughter of the Living God, every word truly is. God commands the man to; “Love and Adore”, but also to “Love his neighbor”, so then precious neighbors first, next becoming a friend, and friends becomes best friends by the Grace of a Living God, and love turns to adoration, a gentle harmonic of Godly intent, ever allowing God Himself to further deposit any and all gifts He might desire into two sweet children he love’s so very very much. Is there a hammock in the future, our young child of a warrior just might begin to hope.

He then for the first time, dares a peak at this glorious creation with his own two eyes. Taking in the majesty of her childlike perfection, flawless in the eyes of God, perfectly clean in the cleansing blood of the Lamb, she is spotless, enchanting, the tingling scent of her silhouette caressing the iron girders and emotional hiding places of his heart.

Again he finds himself needing to discover every God given spec of visual energy that this blessing has to offer his once starving eyes. He basks in the sight of pure delight that is this marvelous creation of God’s might. Sits and looks hours, no days, even weeks as a student might in awe a Michelangelo, drawing in the beauty with tears of gratitude, waiting, feasting, and filling up, until he can truly say, no, must say; “Thank you Lord for such a gift”.

Does he dare a touch, to caress such a gentle hand, he may be risking his very heart, his kingdom, his land. Just for a moment before such a gallantry, infinitely more difficult then slaying the most ferocious bear. Finally pure courage out weighs risk of rejection, and he reaches from his race, to take her hand as she runs near.

Surely by now the hammock is taking form in his minds growing mansion, within the depths of his souls desires, no one doubts this man’s passions. Type and shape no longer contemplated, for only such a gift from God is a perfect one. A man could take a lifetime frequenting himself with the perfection of this special hand, truly grand. Given him by God himself, wouldn’t such a life be a full one? Examining every curve, the slenderness in feminine perfection of softs love, demonstrating gentle pure tenderness, the embodiment of femininity personified…so is the hand, so is the touch.

He takes her tender hand in his, delicate he holds her in the masculine strength God has granted him, for power is never more the gentlest of consideration, used is this magnificent army only under the instruction of the Father. The great lions paw humbled in reverence for the honor given him to give from Above. For as he has taken honor from Above so must he give honor her. As he frequently holds her hand, with each occasion more comfortable she extends, gives it in trust, until such a time the barrier between hands becomes indistinguishable.

In the days of old, the days almost forgotten, so honorable were men to just take a Ladies hand in theirs, and as tears welled up in these greatest of Knights, impossible was it for them not to kiss the gentle hand as a sign of their devotion and adoration. So as it was then, is it today, this becomes again another area of needed and complete reflection before one would move away, as a demonstration to The Lord of Truth, the creator of her hand.

Does a man at this point chance a thought to said hammock, could he but be so blessed, only God knows! A hammock, yes a big step, no maybe among the greatest step, a most serious step, better to ask The Father!

With heart racing, pumping to the point of bursting, so is his reflection in her and the hammock. So does he approach The Father, for even as He is his Father, so is He hers. And whoa to him that will take from The King, The Father, without asking first, without receiving permission.

Let us consider for a moment the hammock as just a fantasy, for we know our young warriors blood be a racing! Intertwined cords of Gods creation, supportive for both, lifting above the Earth in tranquil suspense, the gentle rolling of rhythmic sway, softly rocking like a gentle wave on a Caribbean bay. The rocking to and fro, balanced with the heartbeat of Godly creation, set into motion by the sweet breath of all involved.

No! The man says, can’t go there yet, the Father has yet to touch this gift. Shake the image out his mind, “get behind me dark thing”, a gift taken before given is no gift at all!

No he must wait on the Father, a hammock is a most serious thing. Give His permission, His approval as is His right as a Father!

This child of a man, must go back to school, learning the gift that has been so graciously given. A dinner for two, a sunrise stroll along the beach as the glorious gift of the sun peaks it’s first smile above the horizon, yes he has seen it before, but never with her. A mountain top sunset experience, with her hand in his as they watch reverently another glorious day depart from view. Every experience that each has loved, sharing God’s little gifts of love in the life He has so blessed them with.

Two riding next to each on horses pounding glorious hearts, souls in reflection of the beats that burn within the chests of our two friends, sequenced with the servants that labor beneath. A pick-nick lunch, a late glass of wine, a fun game of bowling, a casual action movie, reading the Bible to each other, telling stories, laughing together, crying together, learning each other to the point of knowing, where a mere look of the eye speaks volumes, a smile, a tear, a pain, no loss is to much, no fear to big, all good, all true, nothing lost in God, only purity, only bliss, sweet peace He gives, gentle hearts all gain…….best friends.

Now the Father says; “put your arm around her, hold her close, and we can start to plan the purchase of the hammock.”

“You do know, My son, by you putting your arm around My daughter, so do you promise Me to protect and guard her at this every moment in this very place… Real, now, totally against all, physical and spiritual, even unto death.”

The man considers The Fathers words, because just putting his arm around her, in the eyes of The Fathers is not merely a gesture for his own pleasure, but a responsibility to protect in the Fathers stead. Equal, no but superior to any Knight or Earthly Rank, for it’s the Fathers child you swear to protect with this act.

So a man contemplates owning a hammock, settles himself in the reverence thereof, weighs the weight of the responsibility, shoulders the burdens of his protective charge. He must lead in strength, step first in courage, guide in tenderness, walk in unity, rest his head in gentleness, quiet and soft as Jesus would direct. Balance and truth, the power of Gods direction, so must he first prepare, for the final day when the hammock will appear. “Please dear Jesus give your gift to me” he pleads! The Father agrees.

Then finally the day shines, glory be Him in springs rain, as the birds sound a bit sweeter, and the cool water heeling blood we do gain.

With rope in strong hand, and the good hammock to see, opens he his God’s gift, handed sweetly Father to me.

The perfect place do I go, a gentle sweet taste be the sound, between two strong oaks raise sir hammock, for my dreams I abound.

I press the sureness of cord, resting once but it’s taught strength, testing in the Lords practice, I recline arm at its length.

For she comes to me near, her sweet hand do I take, bringing her long my side,
glorious reflection of love’s wake.

In balance do we lay, lifting our two gazes up above, her star gazing sweet head in His glory, on my chest rests my love.

Sleep beckon’s us nigh, her warmth pressing my heart feel, balance in perfect Grace, God’s harmony is so real.

What have I but sown, this great gift from Him above, just one of many future discoveries, my good hammock,

my God,

my Love.

By Peter Colla

“Dear Lord Jesus, please allow me to give all reverence and honor to every gift you have given me. Have me not pass it from sight until I have discovered every part of the gift you have given as to give her honor, and You glory.”

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7 Responses to Hammock, A Representation of Love

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