Will You Be My Music?

After weeks of stress, exhaustion and reaching the point of recognizing that I’m just one man, only a man… not a machine, today I realized I am not 21 years old anymore. A few hours earlier I spoke with an old graduate school buddy, who just happened to comment to me that stress affected him differently now that he is only 54 years old. I felt better about being human. I can now continue and say it feels good to need something besides what has been and need someone besides who hasn’t been.

I took the afternoon off today and went out to my favorite shore-front get away place, after being so miserable working to be everyone’s boss over the last year. My folks are dear and they know I love them all like family. I just couldn’t seem to relax. The radio didn’t help. The CDs didn’t help. The cell phone just didn’t wind my clock. Nothing helped. I sat by the lake for a while and starred at the water, while feeling a bit of the breeze that was blowing. Fifteen minutes later…. I’m in the car, heading to some other place and I had no idea where that would be at the time I was driving.

Twelve hours earlier I was abruptly awakened by a horrific head ache that had now become intolerable. I had no more answers. I was in trouble. I was ready to put out my SOS or call Ekaterina, my physical therapist. Choosing Ekaterina was my choice. She hopped on the next plane and three hours later I picked her up after flying in from Boston. I felt better once she was here. Getting to her office in pain was almost intolerable after the grueling drive in defeat from the airport. Then the story began.

Ekaterina asked “Where have you been? I’ve been worried about you. Why haven’t I heard from you until now?” “I’ve been sick, working very hard….and just carrying the stress until I couldn’t bear it anymore.” “I can help,” Ekaterina said. “I’m glad,” I replied with relief.

She began to play soft and relaxing music. Then…I thought of you. Where are you I asked? Where are you? I began to hear the music Ekaterina began to play. It was then that I knew I wanted you. It was then that I knew I needed you. I t was then that I knew I was not enough for me.

I began to relax…. I relaxed more. I listened to the music. I said, “That’s it!” I began to soar to a place of recluse and oblivion. I asked….”Where is she? Can she come to me? Does she know it is her that I want? The music told me that it was not the music that I wanted, but it was you.

Alarmingly, but most assuredly… I knew that you were the music. I knew that you were the melody, the rhythm, the lyrics, the tone, the mood, the encounter with the wonderful, the exquisite, the exceptionally wonderful….the necessary. You would be enough.

I just know you were the music. I knew you were what I wanted. It wasn’t the music. It was you. You would be enough. So I ask you now…could you be the music? I heard you even when you thought I wasn’t listening. I just knew. It was you. Again I say… can you be my music? I ‘m listening. I want to listen even more.

David Hammock. Copyright © 2008. All Rights Reserved.

On Behalf of Women Everywhere

Throughout the course of my life, even since childhood, I have frequently asked, “What is a real man?’ I’ve had a few good examples. I’ve mostly seen a lot of bad examples. What I detest the most about men is the fact that some of them think they speak for all of us. Well….they don’t speak for me. I’ve learned a thing or two about being a man in life. It always helps to learn about being a man, particularly if you are one.

When a man says he’s been married to the same woman for 35 years and he’s learned a lot about women since he’s been married to his wife, I have my doubts. What he’s really saying is that he’s learned a lot about the “woman” that he’s been married to. If he’s been learning a lot about “other women,” he’s really in trouble.

When a man says something stupid like, “We all know that men like fast cars and guns.” Try saying to a gun, “Come on baby light my fire.” I guarantee you, the gun will be entirely silent. I own a few guns myself. They’re just guns. That’s all.

Then there are the dweebs who begin their motivational speeches saying how they once lost 30 million dollars and now they are selling shoes. Is there some meaning to this? By the way, he gets a standing ovation for not going insane and for now possibly being humble. Interesting story about becoming a man.

We also have a group of the few, the proud and the brave. I’m grateful for the American military forces. But what worries me is that word “few.” I would think a woman would hope that her man is at least brave enough to face life, himself, her and the future. Being brave starts with looking in the mirror everyday and admitting what you can see. Some men just can’t ever seem to get their eyes focused.

Select breeds of Homo sapiens out there have these little macho collaboration meetings. They dress up, wear their best suits, even polish their shoes (or have someone else do it for them), smoke a few cigars, have a few drinks and show off the pretty little china doll they’ve bought so other Homo sapiens can say, “He’s one heck of a guy. Wish I had what he has!” They also make their fame and fortune known, as well as the fact that they once gave a few bucks to charities. That’s the real icing on the cake.

The point to all of this ladies is that some men want to portray themselves as four miles wide, when in reality; they’re only two inches deep. If I want to know what a man has done, I’ll read his bio. If I want to know who a man is, I’ll watch how he lives. When what a man says, does, feels and thinks all lines up together, that’s progress. When it’s all consistent… even better. When a man says he “can’t” speak for all men, he’s probably telling the truth. And on behalf of THIS man….well, I do think I speak for him and he doesn’t ever want another man to tell you what you have no reason to believe in the first place. This man does not need or want another man to ever speak for him. I can do it myself.

David Hammock. Copyright © 2008. All Rights Reserved.

Whenever I Touch Your Hair

Whenever I touch your hair,
I feel the most amazing feelings.
I feel winter, spring, summer and fall…
All wrapped up tenderly inside my hands.

I feel so amazingly winsome.
I don’t know if other men feel this.
I’m not other men.

Just to see your hair glisten in the light,
Blowing in the wind,
Still without the wind,
Beautiful, soothing, elegant…

It brings contentment,
Such sweet contentment.

When my fingers feel each strand
I travel to a place that’s just yours and mine.
When I touch your hair,
It’s just you and me
In our own special paradise.

For I know that your hair is a part of you,
And I want to make it a part of me.
For when I sense the tenderness of each strand
I go to a place that even
I don’t understand.

I love to touch your hair;
For it is an extension of your soul.
Each new touch takes me to a place of wonder
As I wait anxiously for the next touch to unfold.

For I shall never be the same
As I sense the glory of the moment.
Each new touch allows me to be me.
Each new touch frees me to see you
As the incredible woman I know you to be.

As I smell the fragrance of your glory,
My heart grows wild as the summer grass.
Please my love…let me always touch you.
I will always soar with eagles
When I fell the breath of my gentle dove.

David Hammock. Copyright © 2008. All Rights Reserved.

How Do You Describe A Truly Beautiful Woman?

I have so many friends in so many parts of the world. All of them seem beautiful in their own unique ways. A handful I have known a very long time, and I have yet to see demonstrated all that lies within them. Neither have they witnessed the power of their own beauty for reasons of fear, pride, uncertainty about their own identity and self image…then of course, there is the unknown. Others I have known only briefly, yet the beauty within them is an overwhelming garden, full of fresh blossoms, that are new every morning. Some of us of course are simply late bloomers….but although the blossom is hidden, it is still intact.

An acquaintance contacted me recently after seeing pictures of my lady friends and he asked, “Do you really know all of these beautiful ladies?” I replied, “What do you know about beautiful ladies? Why do you call them beautiful? I know why they are beautiful to me, but what do you know about these ladies? You don’t know anything about them. I do. Is there some reason that your first question in getting acquainted with me should be, “Do you really know all of them?” The “acquaintance” never replied. He could have never become a friend, despite his fame and notoriety. He just didn’t get it. Outward appearances can be deceiving, yet the light in a woman’s eye tells the real story.

Beauty isn’t a thing. It is more than a characteristic and it is certainly not simplistic. Beauty is not merely the portrayal of an image that others might see, and make a flattering remark about that someone. Some people live their entire lives surrounded by beauty, and never raise their heads to give thanks and pay tribute to the reality of beauty’s purity. The true beauty of a woman is the aroma of her soul that need not be punctuated with perfume. The light of her eyes, the smell of her soul, the whisper of her silence, the dance of her spirit, and the alluring adventure of where her mind has traveled will begin to give you a glimpse of what a true woman’s beauty really is.

When a beautiful woman speaks, it is not about how much or how little she says; it is about the fact that she has even said it. Can you hear her? What does her voice tell you? Perhaps you are expecting words…but there is so much more than she is describing beyond what you think. Do you only hear logic and reason? For there is so much more than the content one may pretend to predict or interpret in expressions called “words.” Did you hear what she did not say? Were you listening for the beauty inside this creature called “woman’s” soul which you were blessed to behold those precious moments with? One must listen for beauty in order to truly hear beauty. Otherwise…deafness is certain to plague one that is also blind.

True beauty can always be recognized for what it really is, not what it isn’t. A beautiful woman is a brilliant composition of incomparable excellence, that each time her notes are orchestrated on the instruments of life the results are always the same: She is more than what you see; she is more than what you hear; she is more than you could possibly ask for or imagine. Yet in her grace, humility, elegance and patience…..she waits for you….and she continues to wait, even more, because…. the true beauty within will only blossom further. For she bears the image of her Creator…and she is fearfully and wonderfully made …..entirely beautiful…...only beautiful.

David Hammock. Copyright © 2008. All Rights Reserved.

The Wonder of My Soul Mate

I’ve wondered my whole life, what sort of woman would be the woman of my dreams.... I’ve longed for her even when I did not know what the ache in my heart was about. I’ve dreamed of her even when it seemed foolish and hopeless to dream. Wondering if she is a fantasy caused me to ask, are you being honest and real with yourself? I see so many couples hold hands in the park, and they stroll in the evening sunset, and seem so content…..but I still wonder, where is she? I can not give up hope, because as long as there is life, there is hope.

Recalling the memories of my childhood when I saw so many” bigger” people who were married, I remember the sadness I felt inside when they never smiled at one another. Some seemed to act as though they were strangers. There was nothing that seemed to appeal to me about what “bigger’ people did to call themselves husbands and wives. No one ever used the words” lover,” as they shared about their partner. God forbid such a word as that. Yet…..my heart kept yearning…. and bleeding, crying out for someone to tell me the reality and truth about what it meant to be in love. Surely, there must be an answer. Surely, I was not alone.

Soon, I became older and I was to discover that women were different than men. My eyes would gaze upon them and wonder what they were like? How did they feel? What made them happy and smile and laugh I asked? Could they feel as deeply, and as passionately, and long for another that could complete them, as I wondered? I dared not share such a secret! No child should be thinking this way. I should be thinking more like a child. But…I didn’t. I was far beyond my years in a land of discovery, wonder, beauty and enchantment.

I continued to wonder and dream of such a creature extraordinaire that totally captivated the essence of who I was and am. She was the kind of masterpiece that no ordinary artist could easily capture with a brush and paint. She could move my heart like no other. Her delicacy, gentleness and tenderness could calm any feeling of discomfort I would ever have. Her beauty was such, that even a glance…would change me into a prince; for I knew when I beheld her with my eyes, that she was a princess. She was my princess, and I could not possibly be content with any other.

I knew deep inside when I met her, I would feel the presence of her heart. I knew that when she spoke, the gift of her voice would be so warm, passionate, exciting, and true….true to her own heart, and to mine. Whatever she would speak and no matter how she spoke it, the words of my princess would be for me, and my words would be for her. I knew that the very sight of her would change my countenance, lure my will, and beckon me to her side. My desire for her would be unquenchable, and her desire for me the same.

No love would be able to compare to the love we would share. It would radiate from our hearts as we would look upon one another. There would be no more questions. There would be no more aches. My quest for my soul mate will have come true. She would be more than anyone else’s description of her, and more than I could utter with such tiny expressions called words. The glow in her eyes for me, and my eyes for her would tell the story. We would always be able to love in silence, love in language, love in the deepest passion possible with our embrace, as a true gift that would never be able to say” I love you for the moment.” She would always be my soul mate,

and only with her would my heart always be content.

Copyright© 2007. David Hammock. All Rights Reserved.

The Testimony Of David Hammock

Born, reared and educated in NC to an average, church-going family, David began walking, talking and reading at an early age, and quickly developed a curiosity about all of life. He knew as a little boy that he would one day become a “preacher.” God spoke to David at age twelve and told him that He wanted David to have great faith. Middle school and high school would be very difficult periods in his life in David’s search for identity and significance, despite knowing that God’s hand was upon his life.

Consumed with popularity and athletic success in high school, David grew restless, fearful and uncertain. While in a period of darkness, David was kidnapped in Virginia and taken to New York City. After fleeing from his kidnapper in NYC, David found his way to Teen Challenge, a Christian youth rehabilitation center founded by Rev. David Wilkerson, pastor of Times Square Church in New York City. After returning to NC, David began experimenting with drugs. On February 8, 1972 in the midst of an overdose, he cried out for help and pleaded with God for certainty of salvation, and asked God to restore him to sanity and David was instantaneously delivered.

“I had known my whole life that there was a divine call on my life, but for years I refused to submit to it.” Despite this knowledge, David would complete college, and create his own philosophy of life that consisted of three half-truths that were nothing more than lies: 1- The grace of God is sufficient to cover all of my sins, so I can do whatever I want; 2- If the situation works out the way I want it to, it must mean that I have God’s favor and His will is taking place and; 3- If it feels good, just do it, because God would want me to always feel good. David’s warped value system finally collapsed in 1983.

After being at the absolute “end of his rope,” David realized that he had never truly entered into the truth path of a disciple of Jesus Christ, despite his past commitments and experiences with God. “I looked at my life and said that fruits of God’s Spirit just aren’t there. I missed it. I had experienced the presence of God, the power of God, heard and knew the Word of God, seen and experienced the miracles of God, and recognized the voice of God, but I had never fully walked in the purposes of God that he has for every believer in the Gospel, which are submission, obedience, love, wisdom, faith, fellowship and service.” 1983 was also the year David’s father died. Before his father died, he told David, “You’ve never really walked in true faith, the way faith is supposed to be.” Those words would become a catalyst at the end of a year and a half battle with suicidal thoughts, and satanic oppression, where David finally surrendered to the will of God and he was set free in July, 1984. God confronted David with the question, “Do you just want relief, or do you want relationship?”

“God renewed my call to ministry, quickened the Scriptures, began rapidly discipling me and He gave me a vision for ministry and I began preaching in 1986, upon entering seminary. My heart is that of a REVIVALIST/EVANGELIST. There is nothing more exciting to me in life than to see people have their spiritual eyes opened to God’s truth, and their hearts open to God’s love.

I’m committed to preaching the message of revival until the day I go and live with God.”

David Hammock. Copyright 2008. All Rights Reserved.