About Me

- Penn Hayden
- God-lover, singer, poet, writer, mother, friend. Author of Song of Unborn Child.
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
Tuesday, November 02, 2021
Storms Piled Against You
Sunday, October 10, 2021
A Great Reset
Thursday, September 30, 2021
A Realm that God Created
“Ooh, an angel spoke to him!” some gasp with fear. Yet angels have spoken to man for as long as man has walked the earth. “Right, she said that she saw heaven!” they mock. Uneducated Christian, you must read more! God has been revealing heaven to people for thousands of years – He even has a book that shows such revelation being given.
If Christianity holds any resemblance to New Age it is because the New Age movement has 'borrowed' from Christianity, not the other way around. Dreams, visions, ecstasies, tongues, angels, miracles, signs and wonders, all belong to Christ. And He will use any which one He pleases to communicate with His children who desire to hear from Him. Has no one taught you this? Ahh, now I understand. The fault lay with your teachers.
Artwork: Jeanne d'Arc and the Archangel Michael by Eugene Thirion
Saturday, September 25, 2021
In the Middle of the Ruins
You didn’t wish to return to that plot of land again. I know you didn’t. You insisted that place has only ruins on it, ugly rubble that reminds you of the loss. But the One who knows you best of all, knew differently. Beneath the broken rubble on that scarred plot of land is right where you would find your healing.
He’s not called the Creator of all things for no reason, you know. With Him, life springs up even out of ruins.
Artwork: Among the Ruins by Lawrence Alma-Tadema
Tuesday, September 14, 2021
The Only Road
Some other route, do you say? . . . there is but one small problem with that – Jesus is the only road that leads through the gates. Humanity may rage and stomp and be as incensed as they wish, but any other road they take does not lead to heaven. It may lead them to a more self-fulfilled life (though I am not convinced that fulfilling “self” is actually very satisfying) but when their life is over their fulfilled-self will be cut off forever from the One whose presence on this earth is what gave it any kind of beauty.
There is only one way, only one road, because there is only one Jesus.
Photograph: Road through meadow, unknown
Monday, September 06, 2021
Pain That Claws
No one told them that such pain awaited them, pain that claws into the soul. No one told them of the consequence that comes when mothers-dear end the life that they were meant to nurture. But it comes. It always comes eventually. Their conscience will not have it any other way.
If only they'd been told the truth.
Artwork: Rachel Weeping For Her Children © Stephen Gjertson
https://stephengjertsongalleries.com/
Saturday, August 28, 2021
Because of Love
Her parents thought that they could beat it out of her, this love that gripped her soul. They tried. They kept her in her room for days, starving her between the beatings. But she would not recant – for she knew a love far greater than the temporary pain. And then she died.
Why did they kill her? Because of hate. Why did she not succumb and renounce her Christ? Because of love. Scream, abuse, deride, condemn – it is all for naught if Christ’s love has firmly gripped a heart. Love is the great combatant and the tyrants of this world well know it . . . Christ is their greatest fear.
Artwork: St. Veronica by Paul Delaroche
Wednesday, August 18, 2021
A Foretelling Dream
I had a dream in September 2019 before Covid happened. I’ve had prophetic dreams before, but sometimes I don’t know what they mean until they happen. This was such a dream:
I was walking through a mall with a man. A woman stopped me as the man walked on. She was very urgent as she told me that I needed to get two shots and she had syringes with her. The 1st shot would make me miscarriage whatever I may have in me and the 2nd shot would sterilize me so that I never get pregnant in the future. I told her, “No.” The scene changed and I was in a living room in a house and the man was also there. The same woman was there but now had a second woman with her. The second woman had the man mesmerized. I tried to get his attention but he wouldn’t listen to me, he only stared, transfixed, at the second woman as she was talking to him. The first woman again tried to get me to get the 2 shots. I again said, “No!” which made both women angry. I walked down the hall to a bedroom and locked the door and the woman was outside the door unable to get in to where I was.
I now understand the meaning of the dream:
The shots were a foretelling of the double-shot vax that is being pushed upon everyone. There are now whistleblower nurses and med staff speaking about the steep increase of miscarriages in women who get the jab, and the spike protein is now proven to be building up in the ovaries of the females who get it, young and old alike, and doctors say they have no clue what that might do to women’s fertility. The woman represents the Jezebel spirit that always uses intimidation to control and that uses her wiles to trap weak leadership (represented by the man) to do what she wants. The bedroom I locked myself away in, where the woman could not enter, represents being in the secret place of the Most High God. As Christians, if we remain close to God in the secret place, under His shadow, we’ll be safe from the intimidation and schemes of that evil spirit.
For them who have ears to hear, let them hear.
Photograph: woman holding syringe, unknown
Thursday, August 12, 2021
More Undignified Than This
Thursday, August 05, 2021
Little god-box
So that is where you keep him. I have always wondered where your little god is kept – it is in your little god-box. And now and then you let him out. Now and then you allow him to do what he desires as long as he promises to be good. If not, away with him back into the box!
Artwork: Psyche Opening the Box by John William Waterhouse
Saturday, July 17, 2021
No Longer Lambs
Monday, July 05, 2021
Burned by Such a Flame
Tuesday, April 27, 2021
Glory Rising
Saturday, April 17, 2021
An Angel With One Wing
Wednesday, March 31, 2021
Flowers Growing Where they Shouldn't
It is not an orderly, neat and tidy, all-things-in-a-row type of garden that Jesus has cultivated. Oh, no, that will not do for Him! It is a boisterous, flowers-growing-where-they-shouldn’t type of garden; it is an unpredictable, never-knowing-what-will-pop-up-next type of garden; it is an audacious, blooming-even-in-the-winter type of garden.
How sad that all in the church do not possess such a plot of land. Perhaps they should invite Him in to cultivate their garden.
Artwork: Flowers by Jessie Wilcox-Smith
Thursday, March 25, 2021
He Fell Hard
He fell. He was most beautiful, the loveliest among the angels. He was the keeper of the song, chief musician extraordinaire with gemstones on his brow. He commanded legions of the heavenly powers and they did his bidding well . . . so well, that they followed him in the fall.
“I saw satan fall like lightning from heaven!” so said Christ. And he fell hard.
Artwork: Falling Star by Witold Pruszkowski
Saturday, March 20, 2021
The Crustiness Still Clinging
"But I am wrongly judged!" I hear your sad lament. T'is true. While one sees the crustiness still clinging to you, another sees the acting out brought on by pain; neither sees the heart within.
But some of us have eyes to see the hidden - and what a change is happening! What a pushing, stretching, magnificent metamorphosis that God is doing. Do not worry. One day all will see it when you take flight with lovely wings.
Photograph: Cocoon unknown