That’s about as happy and relaxed as Drew gets. I only recently discovered the joys of swinging in a hammock and boy has it been wonderful. But, it wasn’t always so. You see, I’m a big dude. And over the course of my 33 years on Earth, I’ve become well acquainted with gravity. Gravity has a nasty habit of bringing things back to the ground. Fast. Falling is not one of my favorite things, you see, so the prospect of dangling between two trees always made me a bit apprehensive.
So I did what any rational person would do. I Googled. I found a hammock that I knew could support my weight. I was stoked. It came, I tied it off between two trees and gingerly lowered myself into it. And I fell. Hard. The hammock was just fine with me in it. The straps I used were not. Lesson learned.
So back to Google. More research. Stronger straps. Bigger carabiners. Everything rated for a load greater than I. It was time to try again. Straps up, carabiners locked in place. Put some weight on it, see if anything slips. Looking good. Ever so slowly lowering myself back into the hammock. It’s holding. Feet up. Tucked in. And there it was. I’m swinging in the air, feeling weightless. Glory hallelujah.
Once I knew my hammock rig could sustain me I had no trouble trusting it again and again. I had put it to the test and it had been proven worthy. Before that, I knew all the facts about my gear. Intellectually, I knew it was sufficient. But it took a real and serious test for me to believe it.
So it goes with faith. I know a great many things. But facts are not enough. At some point, I have to let go of every bit of weight that I’m carrying and trust it to someone else. I hear the whispers of “my grace is sufficient, my power is made perfect in weakness” like the wind through the trees. I know all this but at some point I still have to fall backwards and trust that everything I know is true, everything that I know can and will catch me, all of that will be enough and I won’t go crashing through it.
Faith is not easy, especially in the face of uncertainty. Trust that we are falling backwards into something far greater than we could ever experience had we not. There is a sweet comfort in landing exactly where we should be.