About Me

- Penn Hayden
- God-lover, singer, poet, writer, mother, friend. Author of Song of Unborn Child.
Monday, August 15, 2022
I Will Never Make You Carry That
Tuesday, August 09, 2022
When All Shaking is Done
Oh, no . . . When a mountain's removed there's a frightening noise, a terrible shaking throughout all the land. In DC there is a mountain of evil that God is removing. Stand strong! Don't be afraid! God is restoring our destiny and rebuilding a nation.
It is quite a mess.
God holds President Trump in His hands. And God loves this nation. All is not over . . . hold onto God's words and keep praying. God decides rulers and dominions and times, not politicians, and not the swamp creatures who are now in plain sight. The lines have been drawn. Who'll stand with God? Who will have faith? Who are the Joshuas and Calebs? . . . When all shaking is done, we shall see.
Artwork: Third Eruption of the Revolutionary Volcano by Auguste Desperret
Wednesday, August 03, 2022
Glory Warms My Limbs
Sunday, July 03, 2022
The Emperor is Naked!
Friday, July 01, 2022
Reaching Up
Reach up and call His name. That’s all you have to do. Reach up when black clouds descend upon your soul with a weight that tries to crush.
Reach up and call upon the name of Jesus. Shout it if you have to; weep, if that is how it comes; whisper it if you feel you have no strength. He will hear, I promise. He will not stay far away for long.
When He stretches forth His hand, instantly the clouds will part. Deliverance will come because He owns it. It belongs to Him and Him alone. Redemption belongs to Him ... and so does love. All of it is His. But do not give up. Do not stop calling out His name and reaching up. I know without a doubt that He will come.
Artwork: Hand of God, unknown
Thursday, June 23, 2022
Try to Take Over the World
Wednesday, June 15, 2022
A Harsh Goddess
Friday, June 10, 2022
Shine
Change me to be a true replication of Jesus, my precious Savior. I wish to be as beautiful as He is. I wish to shine with the Glory of Father as He does.
Shine . . . shine . . . shine! That certain something that glows from His eyes must shine from mine.
Tuesday, June 07, 2022
He and She
He and she. Her and him. Man and woman . . . only two genders were created, a biological design within which are rooted our well-being and our wholeness.
Woe to those who try to stray from His design, for on that path there is a tearing of the soul, and pain, the likes of which they have never known before. And a great lost-ness that will drag them down into a whirlwind of darkness.
He and she. Her and him. Since the dawn of time and evermore, as long as XY chromosomes remain XY.
Artwork: Meeting on the Turret Stairs by Frederick Burton
Tuesday, May 31, 2022
The Flowers Return
Wednesday, May 25, 2022
The Sound of His Return
I hear so many things as the time of his return approaches. I hear the groaning of the earth beneath the weight of sin that bears upon it. I hear all creation singing praises, quietly, persistently; a sound that even night has not the power to stop. Astounding are the things that can be heard when one takes the time to listen. Let the world rush by, but I shall wait with lamp full lit, eyes wide awake, listening for the footfalls of him whose face I’ve waited long to see. Come, Lord, come!
Artwork: Thisbe by John William Waterhouse
Tuesday, May 17, 2022
A Light Within
“Away fear! Fie to grief! Anger you are banished! Death to enemies once too strong for me!”
There you have it. You have not forgotten after all—He is that light.
Artwork: © Greg Call
Tuesday, May 03, 2022
Most Fierce Opponent
Your conscience tried to stop you in it — for many years that precious gift within you, given by a loving God, tried to stop you from this course. But you would not listen to it. You entertained the thoughts, and when thoughts are entertained for years they grow in strength till a stronghold grips the mind that is not broken easily.
And when finally you had killed that God-imprinted conscience, put it sound to sleep, you stepped into that homosexual bond that is a false substitute for what the wounds within are really needing.
It is not Christians that have warred against you — it is that truest friend, yet most fierce opponent of them all . . . your conscience.
Saturday, February 19, 2022
An Army of Glorious Truckers
Once long ago there were truckers who rode great shining trucks into battle; a battle where they carried no weapons and courage was solely their armor.
The fight they waged was quite peaceful in their stubborn defiance of a tyrant. And all the world watched the battle progress, and how with bar-b-ques, laughter and dancing they fought.
The tyrant could not take the mocking and angrily called on his minions: the enforcers-of-diktats, cold-hearted cowards (falsely called 'royal') that were willing to trample even old women beneath the hooves of their horses.
It seemed like a one-sided battle. It seemed like freedom was lost . . . but then . . . a miracle suddenly happened that no one expected to see.
The people began to awaken from sleep, deciding these warriors should not stand alone any longer. By ten thousands and millions they filled every street. Every village and city was crowded. Every highway and byway was crammed. Until the outnumbered enforcers-of-diktats refused to give help to the tyrant and decided instead to stand down. And the dominoes fell 'cross the world as their liberty finally was won.
And here on the hallowed fields of freedom sits that first mighty truck of the convoy. Here sits the old metal steed in her glory for all lovers of freedom to see. And to this very day parents tell the story to their children of that army of glorious truckers, fearless and bold, who caused the thrones of terrible tyrants to come tumbling down.
Artwork: Kenworth Old Workhorse © Stuart Swartz
https://fineartamerica.com/profiles/stuart-swartz
Thursday, February 03, 2022
Proclamatory Feet
I feel electricity course through me at His touch. Fear flees and little do I care what men think. Do I dance? Yes, with all my heart and soul till those of timid nature find the boldness to step out.Come, all who wish to join in the dance, who wish to plunge into the river, who wish to stand beneath the rain and soak in heaven's glory. And darkness will tremble beneath your feet . . . and walls will crash beneath your feet . . . and demons will flee before your stomping, twirling, proclamatory feet!
Leap over those safe little fences round your field that men have built and venture into the wild unknown . . . I know you want to.
Artwork: Spiritual Renewal © 2008 Angela Branigan