Rock Writers’ Guild

Being a Christian convert in an otherwise non-believing family, I have often struggled with what to say to them. How can I explain this sudden insanity that came over me in my twenty-eighth year? This total reversal from what I had formerly believed?
          Sometimes they like to remind me a little pointedly of the odd things I preached before. Or the ugly things I did. Sometimes they like to challenge me by logic. More often I think they just sadly shake their heads and try to love me despite my oddity. As if my faith were a newly deformed limb that no one wanted to draw too much attention to for politeness’ sake.
          Maybe they’re hoping that I’ll eventually grow out of it.

    I gather that “Bobby” (see the next post) is Ed in a former life… It’s hard for me to imagine someone growing up in NYC, though intellecutually I know that lots of people do.
     I grew up about as far from New York as you can get without living in a mud hut in Patagonia.  My parents weren’t part of a church, a lodge, a club, a team, a country club, or even a gym.  For a few years they bowled on a league with people they never met otherwise.  We lived out in the country in upstate South Carolina in a little place called Roebuck that was, I think, forgotten by God and man.
     Outside of school, we rarely went anywhere.  Play dates hadn’t, apparently, been invented yet.  Our home was in a tiny isolated subdivision of houses people slept in.  They were gone all day, gone most of the evening, and if they were home, they didn’t have kids.  All around us, on every side, were acres and acres of forest.
     I had two brothers and a sister.  We picked cicada shells off the trees and decorated our shirts with them.  We braided longleaf pine needles and tried to weave them into baskets.  We collected moss, caught quart jars full of frogs,  and dared each other to handle snakes.   We made kites and picked blackberries.  We swatted the heads off of thistles, dug pits, and fell out of trees.  We prospected for fool’s gold in a shallow muddy cave, pretended we were the Swiss Family Robinson, rolled down hills, built rafts,  caught minnows and got lost.
     We knew where everything was.  We knew where there was a secret lake.  We knew where trails led, where the swamp mud would suck off your shoes, where copperheads dropped from the trees into green, sunless waterholes.  There were places of great beauty where the water bent around ancient holly trees and magnolias leaned over the pebbled streams in living bridges.  There were places of destruction and death, too, like the broken house covered by kudzoo, and the secret graveyard where the graves were marked with chalk in secret symbols and decorated with chicken parts.
     There were sacred places, where the pines stood like cathedral columns, or where the last, nearly extinct wild Lady’s Slipper bloomed in peach seclusion.  And there were forbidden places where we went anyway. 
     We sewed doll’s clothing out of tulip poplar leaves and pine needles.  We ate Carolina Beauty Berries and bitter wild blackberries and the nectar of red clover and honeysuckle.  We waded in icy streams, skipped pebbles, built bowers of dogwood blossoms, and made crude pottery out of red clay.
     We told ourselves legends and stories, acted out jousts with Pampass grass tufts, made bows and arrows and became Robin Hood, spied on our parents and neighbors, burnt tent catapillars and conducted strange experiments with dyes and minerals we found.
     Sometimes I would sit up in the notch of a sweetgum tree and listen to the wind sing.  It was a strange, secret way to grow up.  I don’t know if a childhood like that is even possible now.
     It certainly isn’t in New York City.

There is no question that the forces of hell have been unleashed against our children.  The daily bombardment is revealed on newscasts, internet and newspapers.  Never in my lifetime have I seen stories of murder, suicide, and attacks on and even by our children, and it breaks my heart.

As I watched the stories unfolding in the past few weeks, I sat and cried at the sights portrayed on the news of innocence shattered.  My heart wept for the families and friends as they deal with the loss of loved ones.  Anger stirred within as well, anger for the accused and for our failure to stop these horrific events from taking place.  But most of all, I feel a holy anger against the wiles of the enemy that convinced individuals of their right to inflict evil upon the innocent.

Our teens are enticed into dangerous encounters, which sometimes turn deadly, as both men and women stalk our kids through the internet chat rooms and sometimes in their own school and church.  Their one desire is physical and sexually assaults toward their victims.  TV programs designed to catch these menaces to our society reveal some individuals who are both professionals and upstanding members of society.  Yet these events catch a very small portion of individuals engaged in this activity.

Recently I have seen two news stories in North Carolina that sickened me even further.  Infants less than a year old were sadistically injured.  One died and one child will forever bear the scars of fractured limbs, and burn scars.   My heart weeps of the horror and fear these children suffered at the hands of the ones who should have been their first line of defense.  My heart wonders how many are left undiscovered, but will bear the scars in years to come.

Scripture reveals in:  I Timothy 3:1-5 “But know this, that in the last days perilous times will come: For men will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, unloving, unforgiving, slanderers, without self-control, brutal, despisers of good, traitors, headstrong, haughty, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God, having a form of godliness but denying its power. And from such people turn away!”

Our society as a whole has developed the attitude that we cannot and must not get involved.  Individuals have become fearful, and sometimes with good reason to stay uninvolved when injustices take place.  Yet, how long can we sit and watch horrors like these become the norm in the world we live in.   

The one sure way is through our prayers.  A friend recently shared how the Lord woke her up the night before the recent attack took place in
Colorado to pray and intercede.  She prayed and cried out for well over an hour.  I wonder how many lives were spared by her obedience.  She pleaded for mercy, and exposure.  She asked for divine protection.  Did the Lord fail her?  Absolutely not!  We will never know on this side of heaven how many more were spared as a result of her prayer.      

However, God has given men ‘free will’.  We make choices everyday, good, bad or indifferent.  We choose to spend time in fellowship with the Lord, or each other.  We choose to be wise or foolish with our time.  Each one of these perpetrators made the conscious choice to commit these horrible acts on the innocent.  Their time of choices is over but the result of their choices will continue to affect countless others for years to come. 

As His children, we have the choice to stand in the gap.  We can pray and intercede for the safety of not only these in our own country, but ask for intervention in other lands.  We can ask for divine coverings, and protection.  Intercession can be made for exposure of the plans of the enemy.  We can war in the spirit for the life, soul and mind of the innocent in this world.   

As His children, we must be willing to lay aside our own selfish desires and plans.  As we lay aside our desires, we can seek His face crying out for those who are not able to cry out for themselves.  With every news story we hear, I pray our hearts will become so moved for compassion to plead for the safety and welfare for the very ones that satan desires to destroy.   

Joyce Sykes

© 2006

As children of the Lord, we all have areas in our life that is not pleasing to Him.  Through out our Christian walk, the Lord will deal and minister with our heart on various issues.  An area might consist of a habitual sin or even an attitude that is not in line with a Christ-like attitude.  Sometimes the situation might be one that the Lord will deal with strongly or maybe it will be a gentle wooing of His Spirit.  Most of us will acknowledge that the Lord’s dealings are not fun.   But if we are honest with our self and others, we know He deals with us out of loving kindness and faithfulness. 

It is possible to relate times of corrections to that of a garden.  There are times in the life of a garden that only certain jobs are carried out.  A master gardener will not plow his entire field just days before harvest time.  Nor will he plant seeds in a plot of ground that is not properly prepare.  Each activity in a garden has a special time and place. 

This is true of the Lord also.  He will not deal with our heart to create more problems.  His dealings are to bring about a deeper relationship, restoration, healing and fruitfulness in our life. 

One of my favorite verses is found in I Corinthians 3:9 which in the Amplified Bible says: “For we are fellow workman (joint prompters, laborers together) with and for God; you are God’s garden and vineyard and field under cultivation, [you are] God’s building. 

To imagine the heart as the garden of the Lord brings about a series of pictures of the Lord’s mercy and grace working in one’s life.  The work is accomplished in His perfect timing.  Maybe it is a season when He deals with pride in one area, or maybe at another time the dealing might be over an area that He desires to dig deeper and do a more intense work in preparation for some future event that only He is aware of at the moment.

With this picture in mind, we must ask our self are we open to His dealings?  A heart desperate for more of the Lord is also open to His corrections.  We know our heart and the depth of our commitment or lack of it.  This question can only be answered by each of us.  How desperate are you for the Lord? 

Are you willing to allow Him to dig deep within your heart and show you how to stir up your fallow ground?  Do we allow Him to be the vinedresser – pruning and cutting away un-necessary growth?  As a Master Gardener, the Lord will work a plot of land in our heart until it is not only ready for planting, but is fertilized, watered and has the light necessary for maximum growth.  As any gardener knows, it is hard but rewarding work. 

The Lord has shown me a series of gardens as different as night and day.  The condition of the soil of our heart or spirit is an indication of our desperateness for the Lord.  Each of us must look deep inside with eyes wide open to truly see that soil condition.  Is it hard or embedded with sticks or stones?  Or are there boulders that indeed look larger than life.  Some plots are fertile and the dirt is soft and ready for seed and seedlings. 

Indeed, as it is written in the New Testament - …”we are God’s garden under cultivation.”   Come and watch the interaction of an imaginary walk though a heart’s garden.

While meditating in the Lord, I heard the Lord call out to me to come and walk.  Eager to spend time with Him, I hurriedly followed His fleeting shadow.  “Where are we going, Lord?”  You’ll see was the gentle reply I heard.  As we began our walk, it seems to be a beautiful afternoon with the sun warming my back lightly, and a refreshing breeze blowing gently upon my face.  What a thrill to be following close behind the Lord, casually walking with no set agenda. 

Within just a short time of starting out, we were in an area of the countryside that seemed to be deserted.  No signs of activity were evident anywhere close-by, especially in the soil near the pathway.  The grass, weeds and vines were thick and overgrown.  This place had not been touched in a very long time.  There were stumps in several spots, the remnants of long dead trees which probably had broken off in violent storms in days past.  I can see sticks, large stones, and even a huge boulder close by with the grass tangled around it.  The soil on the edge of the path seemed to be fertile but really very hard.  What a waste, I thought to myself. 

Suddenly the Lord spoke for the first time since beginning our walk.  “Why do you think this is a waste?” was His question. 

I was surprised He knew my thoughts at first, but than realized He knew it all, even my thoughts.  I tried to explain what a beautiful productive place this could be if the owner simply took the time to work at it. 

“In time you will.” I heard Him speak quietly as He continued His unhurried walk.  I was somewhat puzzled…someday I would?  I wanted to ask Him what He meant but since He was walking on, I figured it couldn’t be very important.  Eagerly, I turned to follow Him on this quiet outing.

As we continued in our journey, we quickly came to a large open area of what looked to be fertile ground.  This place somehow looked so familiar.  Following closely, while gazing around, I realized we were passing the remains of a garden left unattended for some time.  “Lord, why does this place look so …” 

My question trailed off as I realized this was my garden or at least it use to be.  What happened to this place that I worked so hard on and was so precious to me?  I spent time with the Lord here.  The plants looked healthy the last time we were here but now… what has happened?  The little garden I was so proud of is now just an old dried up field.  Its rows, no longer clearly defined, were eroded by the rain and wind that has blown in my life.  Even the remnants of the once beautiful vigorous plants are just barely standing.  It seems like just yesterday that there was healthy growth and fruit just hanging ready for the harvest.  Indeed now, all the green is gone – they are dried up, just stubble that would burn up instantly if a single lick of fire was applied to it.  Why, I can even see the skin of fruit that was left on the vine too long and wasted.  All of its usefulness is now gone.  It’s just a dried up empty shell – really only dried up skin like that of an old tomato or pepper.  How did this happen?  This was once so productive, so healthy, but now!  Why no one would want anything that came out of this little plot of ground.  I don’t even want anything out of here.  There is nothing alive, it’s all gone.  It’s just dried up, a hard place where nothing can grow anymore.  Oh how I have neglected this spot. 

“Oh Lord, how did I get to this place?” my heart cries out.  “It seems I have lost what little ground I once thought was so precious to me.  You had shown me so much and I worked so hard to pull out the stick and stones.  I remembered the times I had to allow Your Holy Spirit to come and actually dynamite the huge boulders that stood in the way of Your work in this small little plot.  That was so painful!  There was so much of the old me that had to be faced, so much litter in the area.  The debris consisted of remnants of painful events and sins from my past that I held onto like little trophies.  But You stuck with it and bit by bit showed me how to deal with all that was there.  It was clean and ready for Your plantings.  You had dug so deep and prepared the ground of my heart for all You had for me.  I was so thankful, but now it seems like I have to start all over.  O my Lord, please help me in this place.  Help me to stir up again this fallow ground.”

Slowly, it dawns upon me that You are not looking at my failures but You have continued on Your walk just as if it was an evening stroll.  You did not seem particularly upset about the dried up plot of land.  You seem to keep drawing my attention to another area of my heart.  I can see it off in the distance.  It is not the color of dried stubble…it looks like dirt.  Not just any dirt but good, healthy, fertile soil.  As I draw closer to this new area I can see now this spot has been stirred and plowed.  It has been prepared for planting. 

Then I remember the hard times I have just recently walked through.  Conflict and pain, anger and forgiveness, there have been so many issues in such a short time.  So many unanswered questions I had to leave at Your throne.  I also had to choose to allow You to be God in my life and the life of those I care about.  I had to focus back on my spot and acknowledge that You would tend to everyone else’s little garden spot.  The condition of their plot was not my concern, but Yours.  I remember once again embracing the reality of my responsibility to simply pray for them and others at Your leading.  But I had to allow You to tend to my little plot. 

Now, I know You are still there working, just tending to a different area than in the past.  Eagerly, I await Your next move.  “What will You plant?  Will it take a long time to grow and be ready for harvest?”  Oh how impatient I am when I see a work in progress.  I want to see action now!  Why, the plant should have been ready to harvest yesterday!  I can’t wait for everyone to see what You have accomplished in my life again.

Yet slowly it dawns on me, You are telling me it’s not yet time for the seeds to be planted in this plot.  “But why not, Lord?  It looks good to me.”  Slowly it dawns on my heart the words I am hearing from Your Holy Spirit.  It still needs more work and there is even a need for rain to moisten the soil. 

“But Lord, rain usually means a storm.  I am so tired of storms in this area.  Won’t the seeds grow even in this?”  But the reality sets in on my spirit, if I want a healthy growth and excellent fruit than I must wait.  To plant now would only bring in a small portion of the harvest in my life. 

“Okay Lord, I know You are right.  I trust Your judgment and I release my little plot into Your care.  You have already accomplished so much in it.  I know You will continue to care for it as much in the days to come as You already have.  I trust You Lord even in this.”

Off in the distance, a gleam of green waving in the slight breeze catches my attention.  As I begin walking toward it, I can see more and more green.  Plants, beautiful plants in long straight rows are flying freely in the gentle wind. 

“Why, is this plot in my heart, Lord?  I don’t remember being here before.  These plants are wonderful and so healthy?”

 I can see the beginnings of buds.  It would not be long before the flowers would bloom and the fruit would begin to grow.  There would be a harvest shortly. 

“How lovely, but how Lord? When?”  Then slowly I remembered the dealings of just a short time ago.  You had shown me areas I had long closed my eyes to.  You had revealed hidden sin, pride and even un-forgiveness.  It had been so hard but we walked through it together.  I remembered now how I cried out for help and how painful it was to look at all the junk in my heart. 

“Is this what it accomplished?  Oh Lord, I had no idea.  All the pain was agonizingly hard.  I did not think it would ever be over.  I did not want to even think about time frame in my life again and now I can see where You took something ugly and in a split second of Your divine time You have accomplished what I never could.”  You gently chuckle as You watch my amazement!

“O, I thank You Lord.  You are so awesome and faithful.”

“Walk a little further, My child.”  I hear You speak tenderly into my heart. 

As we walk further into this vast beautiful green spot, I become conscious of plants that have already bloomed, and the fruit is growing.  A little further on, there is fruit, full grown, and ready to harvest.  It is beautiful.  Within a few seconds, I can see a few close friends walking in this place.  One by one I see them stopping and admiring, some even bend down and pick a piece of fruit and take a bite out of their prize. 

The Lord suddenly brings to mind a portion of Scripture studied long ago.  The Israelites, when walking past a field ready for harvest, could reach and grab a handful of fruit from his neighbor’s field.  The Lord would not let them harvest their neighbor’s field but they could enjoy a taste.  It was a beautiful picture even than to me of His provision to not only the laborer but to those who have the chance to benefit from the lessons learned from someone else.

Suddenly, I was filled with a great humbleness and humility by this very picture.  Who am I that my Lord could use me to provide a friend, or neighbor with a bit of nourishment?  Overwhelmed by everything I had seen, both the good and not so good brought me to my knees and a place of deeper surrender. 

 “I am Yours, Lord.  I don’t want to be a heart un-yielded and unproductive as the first field I stood in and I long for the other unproductive plots to be worked into a place of fruitfulness as I stand in now.  Work in my heart Lord, as never before.  Use Your Holy Spirit to blast the boulders and roots left by my past and my un-submissive heart.  Dig deep and show me how to stir up the fallow ground within.”  Weeping as never before, I cried out in my desperation

My mind flicked back to the first field I stood in and how dismal it looked.  It was an area yet to be touched.  I understood in a new way the importance of yielding to the Lord.  A deep thankfulness arose in my spirit as I realized He had shown me the worst first.  It was hard to look back and remember the condition of that plot, but the memory of the last plot instilled a hope in me that all was not lost. 

My Father has shown me areas that I am surrendering to Him.  Even as He ministers to my heart, I come to reality that this would be an on going process.  The fruitful area of my life I was now standing in would need more work and replanting in the future.  I am His garden under cultivation.  The work of the Lord will continue as long as I am yielded and allowing His dealings. 

He knows the end from the beginning. He knows which path leads to destruction and which road is a straight shot to the fullness of His plan and purpose for our lives. We must learn to trust His strong hand and steady feet, for in the cradle of His arm is safety and refuge, strength and stability. Because of this we can be strong and courageous even when our world is being rocked by the waves of life and tossed to and fro by the storm of hardship. He is where our safety lies! In His arms is where we can safely endure the attacks of the enemy that come against us from all sides.

“Surely He has borne our grief and carries our sorrow.” Isaiah 53.4

We don’t have to be strong - He is strong for us! In our darkest day He will carry us, in our most desperate state He will keep us safely in His arms. Lean on Him, trust Him to take our worst heartaches and most impossible situations and bring us to the dry ground of healing. He will carry us through the most challenging seasons of our lives if we will trust Him!

God will sustain the anointing in you. He has a plan to carry you through and deliver you into a land of promise. In 1 Kings, Elijah was instructed to go and hide by the Brook Cherith. There he was sustained and carried through the season of drought as the Lord sent ravens to feed him. Elijah obeyed the word of the Lord, because he knew his sustenance could be found in obedience. If he would have stayed where he was, he would have died without food or drink. But he made a decision to be carried, to trust in the wisdom of the Lord. When the brook dried up, the Lord sent him to Zeraphath to be sustained by a widow. Again, Elijah obeyed the instructions of the Lord and found the widow women working gathering sticks. This could have seemed like a desperate situation, the women did not even have enough food to sustain herself and her son, let alone a stranger making greedy demands! Oh, but the Lord had already prepared her heart and He used her to carry the anointing through this difficult time. You see, the Lord has a plan! The drought in your life may seem unbearable, even too much to continue on – but through your obedience He will carry you through! Those who accomplish much in the Kingdom do so because they are being carried over the muck and mire of self-promotion and pride. They allow the Father – not their own ability - to be Sovereign in their lives!

Isaiah 46.3-4 says this, “Listen to Me, O house of Jacob, and all the remnant of the house of Israel, who have been upheld by Me from birth, who have been carried from the womb: even to your old age, I am He, and even to gray hairs I will carry you! I have made, and I will bear; even I will carry, and will deliver you.”

From your beginning to the fulfillment of destiny, you can be sure God has a plan to sustain and carry you! Put your trust in God! Proclaim His greatness and unimaginable strength! This is worship….to grasp the reality of His plan for your life and to live it daily, not trying to appear strong in our own ability, but to proudly display our need to be carried by a loving, gentle and wise Father!

Why didn’t I just say no? The production was paying too little money for too much work, and the weather man was promising temperatures in the nineties. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he also forcasted thunder showers in the afternoon. It is hard enough to do movie hair in a big white tent, outdoors but hairstyles from the 1960s just don’t hold up well in the humidity and rain no matter how much Aqua Net hair spray is used. If it wasn’t my friend, Gina, asking me to come work with her I definitely would have declined the offer. Perhaps it was the, “Please say yes” that she threw in at the end of the offer but the fact remained that I was dreading this job. I was still tired and jet lagged from a 67 hour week of Cowboys and Indians in the New Mexico desert.

   I packed my mobile equipment in the trunk of my car and left my house at 2:30 PM which allowed me enough time to fill up with gas and make it to Orton Plantation by my call time of 3:30 PM. I spent my 45 minute drive reminding myself that I really enjoy recreating hairstyles from different periods and telling myself how nice it would be to see some film crew that I haven’t worked with since January.

   Once I arrived to the designating crew parking area I hit the ground running. I found which tent in the blazing sun was set up with mirrors and hot lights for the hair and makeup artists, unpacked my gear, plugged in my irons, my blow dryer and hot rollers and promptly blew the transformer box that our electricity originated from.

   “Locations!” the young production assistant called on her walkie. “Come to the hair and make up tent and get the power back up please.”

   Oh yeah! The gig is on. My clothes are already dusty and sweaty and my natural wavy hair, that I spent 30 minutes flat ironing straight, is already curling in the humidity. We have blown the transformer three times before finishing the first background artist in our chairs! Oh, the glamour of it all.

   Then, the magic happens. Characters begin to come to life as the wardrobe, hair and make-up transform contemporary men ,women and children into folks from a different era. They really do look like bobby soxers and teenage boys coming from an outdoor Elvis concert in Alabama. Some of these kids have never done this before and it is fun to watch their reaction to their own transformation.

   OK. I am hot, sweaty and stinky and my ankles are beginning to swell from four hours of standing behind a hair chair on uneven terrain, but I am in the zone.

   The time comes to accompany our background to the set. More movie magic. Street lights from 1960 flank the road we are filming on. A shiny, black 1958 Studebaker with an immaculate interior and several other cars from the era are parked randomly on the street. If it weren’t for the cameras and crew members all around, I would truly think we were back in the day. This is one of the things I enjoy about the business I am in.

   What really made an impact on me this day is the people that I get to work with. Big, burly, gutter talking teamsters who stop in mid sentence to smile and say, “Hi, Miss Coni. How is Mr. Ed?” As they lean down to give me a hug, they apologize for being sweaty and stinky. I quickly assure them that I am no bed of roses either. The truth is, I would rather have a sopping wet old Teamster hug then a flaky, faky Hollywood air hug any day.

   I was standing at base camp, catching up with some of the guys when I opened a bottle of water to drink and noticed that, somehow, sand had gotten under the cap. I laughed about what a good thing it was that I didn’t take a big, whopping swig of sand. The next thing I knew, two guys had gone off in opposite directions and came back at the same time. Each had a clean bottle of water for this old hairdresser. That might not sound like much but I felt blessed and honored to have someone, two someones, go out of their way for me.

  I don’t know when it happened or how I have earned the respect of these guys, but it sure does tickle me when a fellow crew member comes to hold the van door open and offer me his arm while I juggle my equipment and try to climb out of the van. Maybe it is just one of the perks of being a fifty-something woman. I have not always been a good example of Christian love on the set but, I do try to be real with people. In return, I get to feel safe, respected and almost at home on most movie sets I work on. Not a bad deal after all.

   I was just settling in for what I expected to be a 12 hour night when Gina came and asked me if I wanted to go home early. Our contract has a 12 hour guarantee that says the least I can be paid for is 12 hours. Yeah, even if I only stay for 8 & 1/2. There is my pay raise. My co-worker said he would let me have the early release first. Nice guy!

   On my ride home I called Ed. He had prayed for me and was delighted to hear that I would be home soon. As I hung up from him, I thought, “I am glad that I said yes to Gina. And I am REAL glad I am going home now.”