A Field, A Kingdom, A Song
The freshly plowed earth was soft beneath my bare feet, warm and rich with the scent of turned soil. Daddy had tilled the land a few days prior, preparing it for planting. Soon, vibrant rows of corn, okra, and other vegetables would stretch across it. But today—today, this field was mine. My kingdom. My battlefield.
Throughout the day, it echoed with the sounds of epic battles, the clash of invisible swords, and the rumble of galloping steeds. Mighty knights dueled fearsome dragons, and brave soldiers hurled grenades made of dirt clods from foxholes, defending their homeland with unwavering courage. Every moment was an adventure, every step a journey into a world of endless possibility.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant streaks of gold and crimson, I stood at the edge of my conquered field. The thrill of battle still hummed in my chest as a deep, satisfying peace settled over me. I had fought. I triumphed. I was victorious.
As the last rays of sunlight faded, I lifted my arms as high as they could reach, and a song rose from deep within me to God. It wasn’t one of the beautiful hymns from the Methodist Church where Mother took my brother and me every Sunday. This song was simple, unfiltered, unrehearsed—the lines did not rhyme and the melody was not musically correct, but it was my song and it had to be sung. It was the song of a child who knew very little about the God he was singing to, yet it was a song from the heart.
As a child, I never doubted God’s existence. He was as real to me as my father and mother. Though I had never seen Him, I knew He was there, watching over me and my family. But Jesus—His Son—was still a stranger to me. Nineteen years would pass before we would meet.
The Night Everything Changed
On a lovely Sunday evening in June 1971, I called on the name of Jesus and was born again in the small church Denice had been attending while I was overseas in the Navy. At her request—no, at her insistence—I found myself there, after fleeing the morning service with her hand firmly in mine.
That night was a pivotal moment in my life—everything changed. And I mean everything. The transformation was so profound, so absolute, that it felt as if a new man had taken residence within me…and one had. My desires, my attitudes, my thoughts, even my habits—all of them were changed in a moment or were changing rapidly.
An unquenchable hunger for truth took hold of me, and I devoured the Bible, desperate to understand who Jesus was and who Steve Vickers was now becoming. Though I had to wake at 5:30 a.m. and be at work by 7, I would stay up into the early hours of the morning, poring over the Scriptures. Often, I would wake Denice just to share something new I had discovered. She would stir, smiling sleepily, and say, “Yes, Steve, that’s wonderful. But please, go to sleep. We have to be up in a few hours.”
But I couldn’t stop. Something deep within me pulled me forward, compelling me to seek, to know, to understand. And I followed, unable to resist the overwhelming draw of the One who had changed my life forever.
This was the beginning of a lifelong pursuit of knowing God and His Son, Jesus Christ. Looking back, I now understand that it was the Holy Spirit drawing me, urging me to chase after the knowledge of God with everything in me. One of the greatest gifts He has graced my life with is an unquenchable hunger for that knowledge—a fire that still burns as brightly today as it did then. It has never been about me—Steve Vickers. This longing, this pursuit, is entirely the work of the Holy Spirit within me.
I share this part of my journey not to speak of myself, but as a testimony to encourage you in your own pursuit of knowing God. The apostle Paul considered this the highest aim of his life, his ultimate goal, his lifelong pursuit. And like Paul, I must confess that I have not yet arrived; the goal remains ever before me. Yet, I press on, striving to fully take hold of that for which Christ took hold of me—that I might know Him, that I might truly grasp “the power of His resurrection and the participation in His sufferings, becoming like Him in His death, and so, somehow, attaining to the resurrection from the dead.”
Still Singing
Now, at 77 years of age, that longing has not faded—it continues to propel me forward. And, my dear friend, I am sure the same is true for you. That same longing stirs within you—the Holy Spirit Himself calling you deeper. Nurture it. Respond to it. Let it guide you ever forward, ever upward. There is nothing in this life—no responsibility, no achievement, no obligation—more important than this one pursuit: that you might know Christ fully, becoming like Him.
Every good thing I have ever done, every accomplishment for God’s kingdom, every life touched, every soul won—anything truly right that Steve Vickers ever did—was born from this one thing: the relentless pursuit of knowing God and His Son, Jesus Christ. And the same is true of you, isn’t it?
Those were magical days running barefoot through the freshly plowed fields, a time when my young imagination ran wild—slaying dragons, conquering enemy armies, and standing victorious in the golden light of evening singing songs to God.
The imaginary dragons and foreign invaders are still unseen, but very real, and war for the soul of humanity. And I still wage war against them. My sword is no longer a stick but the Word of God, and the grenades I hurl at their works are prayers shaped by the Word of God and formed by the fires of faith in the furnace of my spirit. And when finished, I feel that satisfying peace settle over me.
I still walk my land, lift my hands as high as they will go, and worship God, telling Him of His greatness, just as I did all those years ago. And one day, He will whisper to me as He did to Enoch, “It’s closer to My house than yours—come home with Me.”