If you haven't had this opportunity, I highly recommend it. I'm not sure I've ever felt so at peace with myself or the world. The extraordinary thing, though, is that this blissful hour or two would've been impossible without an entirely miserable night.
I'm not sure what it was, but last night I could not sleep. I've always had on and off insomnia, and this was particularly nasty. No matter what I did, I could not get comfortable, and on top of that my mind was racing, refusing to settle down for a mere few moments. Finally, at 3 am, I sat up, turned the lights on, and read for a full hour. I finally decided that my desire for rest outweighed my un-comfortableness, and fell into a not-entirely restful slumber, only to awake a few hours later to begin my day.
No doubt because of the night, my day thus far had been ridden with peculiar headaches and general lack of comfort. Finally, I resolved to come out to the porch and read. I still felt miserable, though, and in the middle of reading laid my Kindle down, took off my glasses, and leaned back. Gradually, like cool air penetrating your core on a hot day, contentment settled over me. Within an hour, I was fast asleep.
The thing is, that initial painful night was necessary to bring about the glorious hammock moment. It's the concept of juxtaposition, something that comes up a lot in English (and art in general): things look and feel different relative to one another. Had my night been relaxing and restful, I probably wouldn't have even fallen asleep in my hammock.
In times like these in life, then, I tend to pray that God is leaving me in a restless night because there's a beautiful, restful day ahead of me. And He wants that moment to be unlike anything I've ever experienced.
