I pondered unconsciously for the rise of the hour. Like a sonar system hosted on the undercarriage of a docked vessel I dwelt as a solider on leave, anticipating the return of assertion.
No man is safe giving authority to the desires of his own heart. Lust, and greed are only a pair of its vices.
Only for a little while longer will I bare the vacancy of a vital constitution. A Victorian ship without a sail is set adrift, a mortal man without a purpose is set to die. It came to me as though I have been blind and the array of understanding has split the cold ridden scales from my eyes into shackles before my very ignorance. Who would have thought that the story I am about to tell you is the story that I have been living, a story that appeared void in the wallow of my own devastation.
I figured you might want to know a little bit about who I am, and why Honey Original is now set before you in the land of the endless market. This story can stem back to my visit to Great Barrier Island in New Zealand when I realized that manufacturing natural balms and ointments could be a valid business opportunity. Lets face it; if you made it this far, you probably only have a few more minutes to go before you get on with it. So maybe I’ll tell that story later. In this Article I want to honor one of the finest gentlemen I know. This man is an instrumental, critical, and foundational reason why I stand where I do today. The very bones of Honey’ were structured through the inspiration of this mans creative inelegance, and passion to provide the world with collections of the finest balms and natural products a human being could apply. I am beyond grateful for the relationship that has been unpacked in our lives. Brothers in the kingdom, as princes we rein, steadfast in honor we endure, knowingly and willingly I declare an endless passion of fire over the genealogy of his heir. Together we put the “men” in “gentlemen”, the “bro” in “brothers”, the “us” in “trust”, and the “friend” in “friendship”.
It takes a man too get offered gold on a silver platter and decline it in a stance of absolute faith, It takes a man to silence the lust of his flesh and seek the fruits of a purposeful, humble, patient, and obedient life, and It takes a man to embrace the correction and guidance of the one who we all know of, and yet do not see. For months Christian and I have stamped hours of research, development, and testing into our plan. With intentions to scribe a brand that embellishes the meaning of quality, exemplifies to the benefit of stewardship, and intrigues humanity with the natural gifts that nature supplies for our own wellness; Honey Original was born. Things were running so well. We were hustling to meet deadlines, and gearing up for the launch that we planned to pursue this summer. God only knew what was to happen next. We were but blind mice sniffing out cheese and eating our way through walls to find it when Christian had received his letter from the Good Lord. Clarity, and courage lay inside its crispy message, leaving none but a critical choice in the palm if his spirit.
When a man faces his identity, there will always be a deep, deep distraction flailing its lust at his futile conscious.
The future is unknown, and our choices cause an effect. This truth bares an inflicting weight that can cause a man to flee the pressure of wisdom if he is not prepared and willing to accept his fait at the cost of his own pleasure.
With honor and integrity Christian resigned from our partnership. There is an aching field in this life that will soon be blessed with the spirit, flesh, and bone of my brother Christian. Full time pastoral ministry awaits the young shepherd, and the scattered sheep await his call. Devastated? Yes I was. My heart throbbed with moping utters, and my mind spun with un-assured convictions for days. No sooner did I receive my letter from the King. My hands are to be busy, and my heart is to be at work for the fulfillment of this company’s inauguration. With indeed strength and passion it is my duty to press forward and do what Christian and I had set out to do last year. The sea is no a place for a weak vessel, its authority demands confidant and educated sailors. As I saddle my ship, pray for good weather, and assemble my crew, I smile in good heart because I know that when the day is done, the progress of a pilgrim will always be measured in his ability to embrace the graceful sere of humility, and his willingness to lay down his life for his brothers.
Written by Dante J. D’Ignazio
Thursday, March 9, 2017.