It was difficult to leave Nashville. As I said good-bye to Joy and Carol I knew that we would be seeing each other again very soon. God had bonded us us together, and somehow we had embarked on a journey together. We had absolutely no idea where we were going, or what the events of the past few days meant, but we knew that God had a plan. We felt His pain. I was haunted by the screaming babies. I was consumed. I was awestruck by the vision of Marietta Davis and the garden in heaven. The thought that somehow God had opened a veil for me to see something so heavenly was overwhelming. It was like a dream... all of it, yet I knew it was all so real. As I headed down the jetway tears welled up in my eyes. I was leaving with so many unanswered questions, and I wondered what would happen when I got back to Minneapolis. Who would understand any of this? How could I even begin to tell my family and friends about what had happened to me?
I got off the plane, and I saw Harry standing there waiting for me. He put his arm around me and gave me a kiss and said, "We missed you." Then he looked at me in a curious way and said, "You look different somehow." Suddenly I burst out crying and said, "I am different! In fact, I'll never be the same! There are children dying somewhere! God allowed me to hear their cries! I don't know where they are, but I have to find them!" I sobbed. People were walking by and looking back at us. I know that Harry was caught totally off guard, and I was unable to pull myself together. "Let's go, and we can talk about it when we get home. You're exhausted," he said, as we began to walk to the baggage claim.
When we got home I told him what had happened as I walked that country road, and the unbelievable experience in the cemetery. I shared the words to the song that flew off my pen so fast that I could hardly keep up with them. I shared about the book that Carol brought over to the house and the vision of the garden full of children on page seven. I told him about the session with Tony and the band, and all that happened there.
"I have to find those babies!" I have to! "I cried.
"God didn't let you hear them without a plan to lead you to them," He said. "You will find them."
"I've been thinking about this all the way home. Maybe they're in Calcutta. Maybe I'm supposed to go there and get in touch with Mother Theresa or something. I just don't know!" I said rubbing my forehead and twisting my hair around my finger.
"You will know,"Harry said. You won't have to guess. God will make it clear."
The next morning when the kids got up I was tying to keep it together. I certainly didn't want to upset them. I was getting four of them off to school, and trying to entertain little Jenny who was a typical 21/2 year old. She was always ready for action. The phone rang, and it was my neighbor, Peggy.
"Well, how was your trip?" she inquired in that upbeat voice of hers. Renee and I will be over when you put Jenny down for a nap if that's ok. We just can't wait to hear all the details!"
I really loved these girls. I had led them to the Lord, and they were on fire, but I really didn't want to see anyone.
'Well, I don't know if...." My words were interrupted as she said, "Oh gee, I'll see you in a little bit! Brian forgot his lunch!" With that she hung up. "Now what?" I sighed.
Sure enough by about 11 o'clock they were walking through by back door. "Hi! Welcome home!" they both said, waving their hands as they rushed toward me to hug me.
"Hi girls! It's good to see you," I said, as I reached out to hug them. I poured some coffee, and we headed for the kitchen table
"Well," Peggy said. "You said before you left that you felt God wanted you to go back to Nashville. What did He show you?" she asked, as she leaned closer to me.
"We were praying for you," Renee quickly added. She paused a minute and asked, "Are you ok?"
"No, I'm not ok." I don't know if I'll ever be ok again!" I said as the tears started.
The girls sat there stunned as I shared my story. I tried to remember every detail. They were crying... I was crying, and then we joined hands and started to pray. "Oh, I feel the Holy Spirit all over me," Renee said . "Me too," Peggy said, wiping tears. "Don't you worry, Penny. God has a plan.
"Don't you remember what happened in April when you walked home from Renee's house that night?Remember what happened at the meeting for the 700 club?"
My mind went back to that April night. We had been at Renee's for a little tine of fellowship and Bible study. For several months I had been feeling like I had been in a spiritual desert. I was still very active in my church, I had led many of my neighbors to the Lord, I was teaching them as well as several teens from my neighborhood, but somehow I felt like God had planted me in a desert... something was missing in my spirit. It was like God had taken a vacation and left me behind. That night I left Renee's and was walking through our subdivision looking at the beautiful starlit sky.
"It's beautiful," I remember whispering.
"I'm taking you places you've never been. Will you go?" I heard those words as clearly as I have ever heard any voice. I knew it was God. My heart began to pound wildly. After all these months! I heard His voice!
"Yes, Lord!" You know I'll go!" I shouted into the night! I literally started dancing down the street. He was back! He was speaking to my heart! After all these months of silence, He was right there with me! I wondered if any of my neighbors had seen me through their windows dancing down the street alone. I was the "Jesus Freak" of the subdivision, but this may have been a little much for them! Within a few minutes I heard, "I'm taking you places you've never been. Will you go?" I slowed down my pace and wondered why He had asked me that twice.
"Yes, Lord, you know I will go," I said, as I stopped and looked up at the sky. I smiled, and I started walking again wondering what He was asking me to do. After a few minutes I heard," I'm taking you places you've never been. Will you go? There's a baptism ahead." I didn't answer right away. I felt a chill go through my body. I knew He wasn't talking about water. It scared me. What kind of a baptism? What was He asking me to do? After quite a pause I answered. "Yes, Lord, I'll go where ever you lead me." I quietly walked home feeling a bit troubled, yet thrilled to hear His voice.
I remember going right upstairs and running the tub to soak in a bubble bath. I just began to relax, and I heard, "Get out." I thought, "Get out? I can't even take a bubble bath?" I got out of the tub and went downstairs into my living room. I just sat there, and I heard, "Listen to my voice and pray. This is big." "Big!" I exclaimed out loud! That was almost amusing to me! "What is big to you God? What could possibly be big to you? You are the God of the universe!"
A few days later a few of us went downtown to a meeting that the 700 Club was televising all around America. They were announcing that they were starting a TV station in Israel. They were asking people to help with this, and Pat Robertson said, "I am asking God to give each of you the desire of your heart. Think about what you really desire, and ask God for that as we pray. I knew what I wanted! I wanted to go to Israel in October for The Feast Of the Tabernacles. I had been talking about it for sometime. I didn't know how Harry and I could afford to go, but I wanted to go so badly! I could hardly wait to pray. Peggy looked at me and said, "I know what you will be asking for!" "Oh yes!" I said, poking her side. The prayer started and I began to say, " I want to.... I want to.... I want to be your servant! I began to weep. "Oh, Lord, I want to be your servant! " That wasn't the prayer I intended to pray! It was as if my prayer was taken over! I wept and repeated those words over and over. I felt Harry's eyes on me. Peggy reached out and touched my shoulder. They knew something was going on between me and Jesus. "He took over my prayer," I said. Something from deep within rose up inside of me! I didn't ask to go to Israel. "I know," Peggy said "I know."
Peggy and Renee sat at my table as we reminisced about those events. "You knew then that God was doing a new thing in your life," Renee said. He said it was big. What happened in Nashville is part of that. You will find out where these children are dying. All of that was leading up to this. Oh, Penny! He has a plan, and it is big!"
A few nights later I went to bed, and I thought I heard someone call my name in the middle of the night. "Penny!" I heard. I sat up thinking it was Harry. He was sleeping soundly. I thought I must have been dreaming, and I put my head back on my pillow and dozed off. "Penny!" I heard my name again, and I sat up. I got out of bed and went to check on all the kids. I wanted to make sure they were all fine. They were sound asleep. I was sure I had heard my name, but I was so tired. I dozed off again, and a third time I heard, "Penny!" I sat up, and whispered, "Yes, Lord."
"Write." I heard His voice speak to me in the night.
I turned on my light next to my bed, and I grabbed a notebook and a pen that I kept in my nightstand.
The words were coming so fast that I couldn't keep up!
She claimed it was her woman's right. It was her body; that's what she said.
But she forgot about your little life. She thought you'd be better dead.
If only you'd have had a chance for them to hear your plea,
But there was no stay of execution, and so you cease to be.
Baby, I'll remember you! And the Father will too!
A trash can for your grave; how can that be?
There's millions just like you in the home of the free and the brave
Baby, I'll remember you!
How long before you're blood's avenged? Oh, I know child it won't be long.
You see the party is almost over now, and there comes another song.
And this country that I love so dear has a greater debt to pay
And we'll never meet the deficit for all the lives we've thrown away!
Baby, I'll remember you! And the Father will too!
A trash can for your grave; how can that be?\
There's millions just like you in the home of the free and the brave
Baby, I'll remember you!
copyright ASCAP 1982
I looked at the words that I had scribbled across the page in a matter of minutes, and I was shocked. I had no idea what they meant. "Who would put a baby in a trash can?" I asked aloud.
"There are millions! Oh, My Jesus! The home of the free and the brave! Here? America? Oh, no! That can't be!"
Suddenly a vision of a brochure flashed in front of me. It was a brochure that I had picked up at the Minnesota State Fair a few years back. I had never read it. I always picked up all kinds of literature at the fair, but most of it went into the trash.
"Find it!" I heard the command.
"I have no idea where that could be!" I exclaimed.
"Find it!" I heard again.
I got out of bed and started going through my dresser drawers. I soon had a heap of stuff all over the floor. Harry woke up and sat up and squinted at me and said, "What are you doing cleaning out the drawers at 2 AM?"
"Go back to sleep. It's ok," I said, as I frantically tossed things from the bottom drawer.
In a pile of paper I saw it! It was a colored brochure that said,"Life And Death" on the cover. I stared at it in disbelief. There was a tiny baby at the top of the page and a caption that read, "This is a 22 week little girl. She was so tiny when she was born that the nurse's wedding ring fit on her wrist like a bracelet." The tiny little girl had that ring on her wrist! "22 weeks in gestation! What a miracle!" I said. I couldn't take my eyes off of her! Then my eyes fell to the bottom of the page. There was another baby. He was bright red. He looked as though he had been through a fire. The caption read, "This is a 22 week little boy. He was salted out of his mother's womb by saline solution. He died a terrible death as his body was scalded."
I couldn't believe my eyes! I wanted to start screaming! "Who could do this to a baby?" I cried as I rocked back and forth holding that brochure. "This can't be happening!" I cried. I opened the brochure, and I felt physically ill as I fixed my eyes on the pictures. There were pieces of babies! Arms. legs, hands, feet, little bodies in pieces! The caption read, "These are babies that died due to a D&C abortion. They were dismembered in their mother's wombs and scraped out." There were more dismembered children on the next page that were victims of what they called D&E abortions. I was sick to my stomach. "I can't take this!" I cried . I closed the cover and put it on the floor, but my eyes could not escape the picture on the back. It was a large Plastic trash can full of children! I looked at the words that I had just written,
A trash can for your grave? How can that be?
There's millions just like you in the home of the free and the brave.
Baby, I'll remember you!
"Oh, My God! You're telling me that they are being killed here in America! Abortion! How could I not have known? Why didn't I know? Why didn't my church say something and try to stop this? This can't be legal! This is a nightmare! How long has this been going on?"
My mind was spinning! I stayed up all night. I cried. I prayed. I asked God, "What do I do?" The next morning when Harry got up I was sitting there in a stupor.
"I found them," I said.
"Where are they?" he asked, as he came closer to me.
"In the home of the free and the brave," I answered, not even looking up.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Ministering Angels
After I wrote those words, I stared at what I had just written and I said, "Lord, what kind of a plan do you have in this? Who is this baby, and why did you bring me to his grave? Why do I feel such a terrible sadness? Where are all of these tortured children that I heard screaming? Why all the memories of my childhood? Why did I see those flowers in such brilliance? What are you saying to me?
I was stunned by the events of the past couple of hours, and I just had to find out all of the answers to these questions. I knew that the Lord was right there with me... I felt His presence in that room. I almost was an observer as those words were scribbled on that paper in just a matter of minutes, but who was Little Baby No Name? Then there was a knock on the bedroom door, and Joy walked in. She came up to the bed that I was sitting on, put her arm around me and said,
"I know that something happened between you and Jesus this morning. I don't want to interrupt you, but Carol Wood called and said she was on her way over. She said that God told her to bring something to you right away. She sounded very determined, and what ever is happening right now, I feel she is being sent here to you for a reason."
We looked up, and there was my friend Carol standing at the door. I had not seen her in a few years. She came up to me and hugged me, and then she said, "God came to me this morning about an hour ago, and He told me to pull out a book from my library. He said, "Bring this to Penny. Tell her to read page seven." She looked very solemn, not the crazy, happy Carol I was accustomed to seeing. I took the book from her and read the title, "The Ministry Of Angels." The author was Gordon Lindsey. It had been written several years ago. I opened the book to page seven, and I gasped as I saw the title of the page... "God's Garden In Heaven"
We read that chapter together. The book talked about a vision that a woman by the name of Marietta Davis had as she was taken up to heaven for several days. On page seven she gave her account about babies and little children in heaven in such a beautiful way! She said that when a child dies they are taken to one of the most magnificent gardens you can ever imagine, and an angel is assigned to that child as he or she grows in heaven. She went on to describe the most beautiful place; the vibrant colors, and the details of God caring for these little ones. I was over taken by emotion, and I started crying as I looked down at what I had just written, and all that I had experienced in the past couple of hours just overwhelmed me! I handed the scribbled words to Joy, and she tried her best to read them. "I saw a glimpse of the garden," I sobbed. " Joy read aloud, "Like the flowers you saw near the road there's a garden there in my abode where this little one grows beautiful and free." "Oh, Penny!" she exclaimed. 'You were there!" "I saw a glimpse of it," I said. I can't describe the colors. They are so beautiful! I just... I just can't describe it," I said.
As Joy read the words we all sat there crying. We all felt the Holy Spirit in that room, and we knew that we were on holy ground. Even the number seven on the page cried out to us because we all knew that seven is God's number. It was June 7th. It was overwhelming ... all of it! I struggled to tell them my story. Joy told me that our friend had called her earlier to see if I had come back to the house. She told her that she had seen me on the road. "She's been with Jesus! I really don't think her feet were touching the ground!" she told Joy. "I don't know if she heard a word I said to her when I pulled up. I felt the presence of God so strongly that I could hardly take it!" She told Joy that she could hardly drive home. "I remember talking to her for a few minutes,"I said," but I could hardly speak. I don't know what is happening to me, but He said I will never be the same. I know that. Something has just happened that is changing the course of my life, but I don't know what it is, I said as the tears streamed down my face.
"There is more, I said, as I felt my body tremble. "I heard babies screaming in that cemetery. It was horrific! Their cries encompassed me. They went to the very core of my soul. I was in that cemetery with so many little children buried there, but these cries were from children that were being tortured somewhere! I have to find them!" I cried. Why did He let me hear this? Where could they be? Why is that little nameless baby so significant to God after so many years? He's probably been dead for a hundred years!" I said, shaking my head. I felt totally drained. We all prayed. "God will put it all together for you," Carol said in that reassuring voice of hers. Joy hugged me again in that wonderful motherly way that she is so known for, and they knew that I needed to be alone. The door shut behind them, and I was alone and ready to hear what was coming next.
"Pick up your guitar." The words came minutes after they left. "Ok," I said. "Sing it," he said softly. I am a song writer, but I have never sat down and just sang a melody in minutes. I looked at words in front of me, and I sang them from beginning to end. I always work on lyrics and melody lines for hours; sometimes for days. This was a supernatural experience. I had no recorder to record the melody, but I knew that there was no way I would ever forget it. I was in Nashville, and the music sounded Nashville. Even the course of my music was about to change, as if to constantly remind me that this place was to be forever engraved in my spirit. I went out in the kitchen and I asked Joy if our friend, Tony, and her husband still had a band. "Yes, I think they still play," she said, as she headed toward the phone. "Tell them we need to get together as soon as possible. We need to record a song." Within a couple of hours we were set up and ready to record.
" I had an experience with the Lord today," I said, as I felt the tears begin to well up in my eyes. "I can't explain this because I really don't know what is happening to me right now. I just need to sing this for you, and we need to record it. They all nodded, and I picked up my guitar and prayed that God would help me get through this. As I started to sing we could feel God in the room. They all started to cry. I somehow got through it, and we sat there in silence.
"That is so beautiful," Tony said, as she openly wept. "I lost a baby years ago. I have grieved for that baby for so many years. Somehow the Lord just brought healing to me in those words." She got up and hugged me. "It was like God came down and took years of grief off of me as you sang! Thank you," she said. "Thank you, Jesus!" she shouted.
"There is a garden where your baby grew. My sisters were there as well. I lost two babies, and they are also there," I said, as the realization of that struck me like lightning. There is a multitude of children there. It's vibrant and so beautiful..." my words faded as I was taken back to the sight of those flowers. "How do you know about the garden?" Tony asked, as her tears continued to spill from her eyes. " I was there," I said. I remember taking a deep breath, and I went on."There are other children somewhere. They are dying a horrible death." My hands began to shake, and I could hear those screams in a distance as I spoke. There are thousands of them. They are suffering terribly. I have to find them!" I put my face in my hands and sobbed. "I heard them today! I don't know where they are!" Everyone was in tears, and we began to pray.
There was healing that day on June 7, 1982. Healing for Tony, and healing for me. There was grief that day. We all felt it for the children that were dying somewhere. Children that God cared about. He allowed me to hear their cries so that I could help them. But where were these babies? I left Nashville with that question tormenting me. I left with the scribbled words and a recording of a new song. A song that would change my life and the lives of so many in the future. I left there with the knowledge that there are ministering angels in heaven that care for children growing in God's garden. I left there knowing that Tony and I would be reunited with our little ones one day, and I smiled as I thought of what my mother's face must have looked like when she entered those gates and saw her two beautiful "flowers," Donna Mae and Sharon Lee. As I boarded my plane, I knew that there were ministering angels all around me, and that I had only begun this journey that would become a trail of tears.
I was stunned by the events of the past couple of hours, and I just had to find out all of the answers to these questions. I knew that the Lord was right there with me... I felt His presence in that room. I almost was an observer as those words were scribbled on that paper in just a matter of minutes, but who was Little Baby No Name? Then there was a knock on the bedroom door, and Joy walked in. She came up to the bed that I was sitting on, put her arm around me and said,
"I know that something happened between you and Jesus this morning. I don't want to interrupt you, but Carol Wood called and said she was on her way over. She said that God told her to bring something to you right away. She sounded very determined, and what ever is happening right now, I feel she is being sent here to you for a reason."
We looked up, and there was my friend Carol standing at the door. I had not seen her in a few years. She came up to me and hugged me, and then she said, "God came to me this morning about an hour ago, and He told me to pull out a book from my library. He said, "Bring this to Penny. Tell her to read page seven." She looked very solemn, not the crazy, happy Carol I was accustomed to seeing. I took the book from her and read the title, "The Ministry Of Angels." The author was Gordon Lindsey. It had been written several years ago. I opened the book to page seven, and I gasped as I saw the title of the page... "God's Garden In Heaven"
We read that chapter together. The book talked about a vision that a woman by the name of Marietta Davis had as she was taken up to heaven for several days. On page seven she gave her account about babies and little children in heaven in such a beautiful way! She said that when a child dies they are taken to one of the most magnificent gardens you can ever imagine, and an angel is assigned to that child as he or she grows in heaven. She went on to describe the most beautiful place; the vibrant colors, and the details of God caring for these little ones. I was over taken by emotion, and I started crying as I looked down at what I had just written, and all that I had experienced in the past couple of hours just overwhelmed me! I handed the scribbled words to Joy, and she tried her best to read them. "I saw a glimpse of the garden," I sobbed. " Joy read aloud, "Like the flowers you saw near the road there's a garden there in my abode where this little one grows beautiful and free." "Oh, Penny!" she exclaimed. 'You were there!" "I saw a glimpse of it," I said. I can't describe the colors. They are so beautiful! I just... I just can't describe it," I said.
As Joy read the words we all sat there crying. We all felt the Holy Spirit in that room, and we knew that we were on holy ground. Even the number seven on the page cried out to us because we all knew that seven is God's number. It was June 7th. It was overwhelming ... all of it! I struggled to tell them my story. Joy told me that our friend had called her earlier to see if I had come back to the house. She told her that she had seen me on the road. "She's been with Jesus! I really don't think her feet were touching the ground!" she told Joy. "I don't know if she heard a word I said to her when I pulled up. I felt the presence of God so strongly that I could hardly take it!" She told Joy that she could hardly drive home. "I remember talking to her for a few minutes,"I said," but I could hardly speak. I don't know what is happening to me, but He said I will never be the same. I know that. Something has just happened that is changing the course of my life, but I don't know what it is, I said as the tears streamed down my face.
"There is more, I said, as I felt my body tremble. "I heard babies screaming in that cemetery. It was horrific! Their cries encompassed me. They went to the very core of my soul. I was in that cemetery with so many little children buried there, but these cries were from children that were being tortured somewhere! I have to find them!" I cried. Why did He let me hear this? Where could they be? Why is that little nameless baby so significant to God after so many years? He's probably been dead for a hundred years!" I said, shaking my head. I felt totally drained. We all prayed. "God will put it all together for you," Carol said in that reassuring voice of hers. Joy hugged me again in that wonderful motherly way that she is so known for, and they knew that I needed to be alone. The door shut behind them, and I was alone and ready to hear what was coming next.
"Pick up your guitar." The words came minutes after they left. "Ok," I said. "Sing it," he said softly. I am a song writer, but I have never sat down and just sang a melody in minutes. I looked at words in front of me, and I sang them from beginning to end. I always work on lyrics and melody lines for hours; sometimes for days. This was a supernatural experience. I had no recorder to record the melody, but I knew that there was no way I would ever forget it. I was in Nashville, and the music sounded Nashville. Even the course of my music was about to change, as if to constantly remind me that this place was to be forever engraved in my spirit. I went out in the kitchen and I asked Joy if our friend, Tony, and her husband still had a band. "Yes, I think they still play," she said, as she headed toward the phone. "Tell them we need to get together as soon as possible. We need to record a song." Within a couple of hours we were set up and ready to record.
" I had an experience with the Lord today," I said, as I felt the tears begin to well up in my eyes. "I can't explain this because I really don't know what is happening to me right now. I just need to sing this for you, and we need to record it. They all nodded, and I picked up my guitar and prayed that God would help me get through this. As I started to sing we could feel God in the room. They all started to cry. I somehow got through it, and we sat there in silence.
"That is so beautiful," Tony said, as she openly wept. "I lost a baby years ago. I have grieved for that baby for so many years. Somehow the Lord just brought healing to me in those words." She got up and hugged me. "It was like God came down and took years of grief off of me as you sang! Thank you," she said. "Thank you, Jesus!" she shouted.
"There is a garden where your baby grew. My sisters were there as well. I lost two babies, and they are also there," I said, as the realization of that struck me like lightning. There is a multitude of children there. It's vibrant and so beautiful..." my words faded as I was taken back to the sight of those flowers. "How do you know about the garden?" Tony asked, as her tears continued to spill from her eyes. " I was there," I said. I remember taking a deep breath, and I went on."There are other children somewhere. They are dying a horrible death." My hands began to shake, and I could hear those screams in a distance as I spoke. There are thousands of them. They are suffering terribly. I have to find them!" I put my face in my hands and sobbed. "I heard them today! I don't know where they are!" Everyone was in tears, and we began to pray.
There was healing that day on June 7, 1982. Healing for Tony, and healing for me. There was grief that day. We all felt it for the children that were dying somewhere. Children that God cared about. He allowed me to hear their cries so that I could help them. But where were these babies? I left Nashville with that question tormenting me. I left with the scribbled words and a recording of a new song. A song that would change my life and the lives of so many in the future. I left there with the knowledge that there are ministering angels in heaven that care for children growing in God's garden. I left there knowing that Tony and I would be reunited with our little ones one day, and I smiled as I thought of what my mother's face must have looked like when she entered those gates and saw her two beautiful "flowers," Donna Mae and Sharon Lee. As I boarded my plane, I knew that there were ministering angels all around me, and that I had only begun this journey that would become a trail of tears.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
In the beginning....
I know people wonder how I ever got involved in such a life of pain and war. I have been asked that question over and over in the past 30 years. When I am asked about this call to the war on children I always find myself taking a deep breath. June 7, 1982, started as a beautiful morning in Nashville, Tennessee, but by mid day I would have my destiny changed forever.
I was visiting my good friends, Joy and Roger Wills. We had been close friends when Harry and I lived in Nashville, and I felt a need to return for a time of fellowship with my friends. The day after I arrived at Joy's home I woke up early, and as I opened my eyes, I felt a strong presence of the Lord. As I sat up I heard a soft whisper in my spirit, "Come away with me." I quickly got dressed and quietly headed for the door. I had my hand on the door knob to go outside, and Joy's voice stopped me.
"Where are you headed so early in the morning?"
Her sweet southern voice startled me.
"I'm going for a walk," I answered.
"Hold on, and I'll get my shoes on and go with you."
I couldn't believe what I heard myself saying as I replied, "Joy, I have to go alone."
She had a knowing look on her face and said, "I know that God is up to something. You go on. I'll be praying." She waved her hand to send me on my way.
Joy and Roger lived in the country, and it was just a lovely place. I walked off their property on to the road and started walking. Suddenly I noticed the wildflowers growing beside the road. They were stunning!
"Lord, they are so vibrant and beautiful!," I exclaimed out loud. "I've never seen anything so beautiful!"
I was overcome by those colors. They didn't look like anything I had ever seen! As I traveled down the road about a 1/2 mile I saw a little white church in front of me. Suddenly I was taken back to my childhood to a little church in Robbinsdale, Minnesota. A church where I had been baptized when I was four years old. I suddenly remembered that pastor pouring water over my head. I saw that day like a flash back in my mind. I saw every detail!
"Lord, why am I remembering this?" I said out loud. I saw my mother and father's faces standing there with me in front of that little church. My mom had died when I was fifteen years old, and it was as if we were there together again way back in time. A strange feeling swept over me, and I knew that God was doing something in my life. Then a flashback of on old baby buggy being pushed by my mother through a small town came before me. I saw an old drug store, and other store fronts. There was a little girl in that old buggy, and I knew it was me. I felt tears running down my face .
"What is this?" I whispered.
I wanted to hold on to those pictures. I had not seen my mother's face for twenty-one years.
I walked across the street into the church yard, and I felt myself being pulled to the back of the church. There was an old cemetery behind the church, and I started to walk through it as I glanced at the stones.
Many of the stones dated back a hundred years or more. I was fascinated as I read those stones.
"Lord, does anyone ever remember these people? Have they just faded away like the flowers?"
I began to notice many stones the represented the graves of children. The more I read the more shocked I became at how many children were buried in this little cemetery. My mother and father had lost two little girls in death. Donna Mae was five years old, and Sharon Lee was two and a half. Suddenly I felt the grief that my parents must have felt.
"Why so many children, Lord?" I said out loud. "This is so terribly sad!"
Again I felt tears streaming down my face at the sight of all these stones placed over the bodies of little ones. How broken hearted their parents must have been as they walked away from this place and left these little lives behind.
Suddenly I tripped over something, and I almost fell. It jared me back to reality. I looked down and saw a little stone all by itself in the middle of that cemetery. It had one word written on it; "Baby"
Not Baby Smith or Baby Jones; No first or last name, no date, just "Baby." There was no headstone that represented a family any where near it. It sat there all alone. I knelt down and began to rub my hand over the stone.
"Who put this baby here with no name, and no date of his birth or death?" I asked, as I began to weep.
" Didn't he even deserve a name?" I asked, feeling an anger rise up in me that he had been left here nameless and alone.
"Didn't his life matter to anyone?"
I began to weep and mourn as if I had lost my own child. In the back of my mind I knew that something strange was happening to me out there, but what was God showing me?
Then in a distance I heard babies crying. No, babies screaming. I turned my head as if to hear better, but then the sound became closer and closer. Then it was as if they were all around me... screaming children. Thousands of wailing voices in my ears! Cries of horror! I remember putting my hands over my ears to block it out.
" I can't take this!" I cried. "Who is this baby, and where are these cries coming from? What are you doing? What is happening to me?" I sobbed.
"I was there," I heard a soft voice speak in my ear. I knew it was the voice of Jesus.
"Where?" "What is this?" I was sobbing uncontrollably, and I got up and ran out of that place of death.
As I reached the church I remember looking back, and I felt a strong hand on my left shoulder.
"Don't run from this! I'm putting a new anointing on your life, your music, and your ministry. Mark this day... June 7, 1982. You will never be the same!"
I felt His presence all over me, and it was as if I was no longer walking alone, but in the company of many. I didn't know what was happening to me. Suddenly a car was stopping next to me. I was so caught up I didn't see it coming. She was a friend of Joy's, and we had met before I left Nashville.
"Penny! Where have you been? I saw you walking down the street, and I swear it looked like your feet were not even touching the ground! Oh, I feel God all over the place! You've been with Jesus!"
"Yes," I said, as if in a fog. "I can't talk about it." I just started walking down the road and left her there.
I walked in to Joy's house, and she was in the kitchen. I didn't even look at her. I just kept walking to my room. Her eyes followed me, and I heard her say, "You've been with Jesus!" I closed the door behind me a fell across the bed and cried.
"Who was that baby? " I sobbed. "Where are those tortured children? There must be thousands of them!" I cried out to God. "If you allowed me to hear their cries, you must want me to find them!" I shouted.
"Write!" I heard Him say.
I grabbed a notebook off of my night stand, and I could hardly keep up as the words as they flew across the page.
I walked along a country road, and I saw a little church. It reminded me of when I was a child.
And I saw the lovely flowers that grew there near the road so free and wild.
And it was like a gentle breeze that drew me to that little cemetery; lives had faded into memories.
Then I tripped upon a little stone, so small and standing all alone with just one single word inscribed, "Baby."
Then I knelt beside that little stone, and the tears fell down my face, and I felt a holy presence there with me;
And He said I had to bring you to the baby with no name that you might see.
I formed this child on my hand; though he never grew to be a man, his life is so significant to me;
And like the flowers you saw near the road there's a garden there in my abode where this little one grows beautiful and free.
Little Baby No Name; I know your life was not in vain.
Though your mama's heart was broke in two, The Father had a plan for you.
As I turned from there and headed home I glanced back at that little stone,
I knew that I would never be the same.
And I thought of all those little ones their mom and daddy's never had a chance to name.
But one day when they see Jesus He will take them to His garden and pick up a little flower growing there;
And with a name that only God could give He'll call the child to its mama, and the fragrance of God's love will fill the air.
Little Baby No Name I know your life was not in vain.
Though your mama's heart was broke in two, the Father had a plan for you.
Copyright ASCAP 1982)
to be continued....
I was visiting my good friends, Joy and Roger Wills. We had been close friends when Harry and I lived in Nashville, and I felt a need to return for a time of fellowship with my friends. The day after I arrived at Joy's home I woke up early, and as I opened my eyes, I felt a strong presence of the Lord. As I sat up I heard a soft whisper in my spirit, "Come away with me." I quickly got dressed and quietly headed for the door. I had my hand on the door knob to go outside, and Joy's voice stopped me.
"Where are you headed so early in the morning?"
Her sweet southern voice startled me.
"I'm going for a walk," I answered.
"Hold on, and I'll get my shoes on and go with you."
I couldn't believe what I heard myself saying as I replied, "Joy, I have to go alone."
She had a knowing look on her face and said, "I know that God is up to something. You go on. I'll be praying." She waved her hand to send me on my way.
Joy and Roger lived in the country, and it was just a lovely place. I walked off their property on to the road and started walking. Suddenly I noticed the wildflowers growing beside the road. They were stunning!
"Lord, they are so vibrant and beautiful!," I exclaimed out loud. "I've never seen anything so beautiful!"
I was overcome by those colors. They didn't look like anything I had ever seen! As I traveled down the road about a 1/2 mile I saw a little white church in front of me. Suddenly I was taken back to my childhood to a little church in Robbinsdale, Minnesota. A church where I had been baptized when I was four years old. I suddenly remembered that pastor pouring water over my head. I saw that day like a flash back in my mind. I saw every detail!
"Lord, why am I remembering this?" I said out loud. I saw my mother and father's faces standing there with me in front of that little church. My mom had died when I was fifteen years old, and it was as if we were there together again way back in time. A strange feeling swept over me, and I knew that God was doing something in my life. Then a flashback of on old baby buggy being pushed by my mother through a small town came before me. I saw an old drug store, and other store fronts. There was a little girl in that old buggy, and I knew it was me. I felt tears running down my face .
"What is this?" I whispered.
I wanted to hold on to those pictures. I had not seen my mother's face for twenty-one years.
I walked across the street into the church yard, and I felt myself being pulled to the back of the church. There was an old cemetery behind the church, and I started to walk through it as I glanced at the stones.
Many of the stones dated back a hundred years or more. I was fascinated as I read those stones.
"Lord, does anyone ever remember these people? Have they just faded away like the flowers?"
I began to notice many stones the represented the graves of children. The more I read the more shocked I became at how many children were buried in this little cemetery. My mother and father had lost two little girls in death. Donna Mae was five years old, and Sharon Lee was two and a half. Suddenly I felt the grief that my parents must have felt.
"Why so many children, Lord?" I said out loud. "This is so terribly sad!"
Again I felt tears streaming down my face at the sight of all these stones placed over the bodies of little ones. How broken hearted their parents must have been as they walked away from this place and left these little lives behind.
Suddenly I tripped over something, and I almost fell. It jared me back to reality. I looked down and saw a little stone all by itself in the middle of that cemetery. It had one word written on it; "Baby"
Not Baby Smith or Baby Jones; No first or last name, no date, just "Baby." There was no headstone that represented a family any where near it. It sat there all alone. I knelt down and began to rub my hand over the stone.
"Who put this baby here with no name, and no date of his birth or death?" I asked, as I began to weep.
" Didn't he even deserve a name?" I asked, feeling an anger rise up in me that he had been left here nameless and alone.
"Didn't his life matter to anyone?"
I began to weep and mourn as if I had lost my own child. In the back of my mind I knew that something strange was happening to me out there, but what was God showing me?
Then in a distance I heard babies crying. No, babies screaming. I turned my head as if to hear better, but then the sound became closer and closer. Then it was as if they were all around me... screaming children. Thousands of wailing voices in my ears! Cries of horror! I remember putting my hands over my ears to block it out.
" I can't take this!" I cried. "Who is this baby, and where are these cries coming from? What are you doing? What is happening to me?" I sobbed.
"I was there," I heard a soft voice speak in my ear. I knew it was the voice of Jesus.
"Where?" "What is this?" I was sobbing uncontrollably, and I got up and ran out of that place of death.
As I reached the church I remember looking back, and I felt a strong hand on my left shoulder.
"Don't run from this! I'm putting a new anointing on your life, your music, and your ministry. Mark this day... June 7, 1982. You will never be the same!"
I felt His presence all over me, and it was as if I was no longer walking alone, but in the company of many. I didn't know what was happening to me. Suddenly a car was stopping next to me. I was so caught up I didn't see it coming. She was a friend of Joy's, and we had met before I left Nashville.
"Penny! Where have you been? I saw you walking down the street, and I swear it looked like your feet were not even touching the ground! Oh, I feel God all over the place! You've been with Jesus!"
"Yes," I said, as if in a fog. "I can't talk about it." I just started walking down the road and left her there.
I walked in to Joy's house, and she was in the kitchen. I didn't even look at her. I just kept walking to my room. Her eyes followed me, and I heard her say, "You've been with Jesus!" I closed the door behind me a fell across the bed and cried.
"Who was that baby? " I sobbed. "Where are those tortured children? There must be thousands of them!" I cried out to God. "If you allowed me to hear their cries, you must want me to find them!" I shouted.
"Write!" I heard Him say.
I grabbed a notebook off of my night stand, and I could hardly keep up as the words as they flew across the page.
I walked along a country road, and I saw a little church. It reminded me of when I was a child.
And I saw the lovely flowers that grew there near the road so free and wild.
And it was like a gentle breeze that drew me to that little cemetery; lives had faded into memories.
Then I tripped upon a little stone, so small and standing all alone with just one single word inscribed, "Baby."
Then I knelt beside that little stone, and the tears fell down my face, and I felt a holy presence there with me;
And He said I had to bring you to the baby with no name that you might see.
I formed this child on my hand; though he never grew to be a man, his life is so significant to me;
And like the flowers you saw near the road there's a garden there in my abode where this little one grows beautiful and free.
Little Baby No Name; I know your life was not in vain.
Though your mama's heart was broke in two, The Father had a plan for you.
As I turned from there and headed home I glanced back at that little stone,
I knew that I would never be the same.
And I thought of all those little ones their mom and daddy's never had a chance to name.
But one day when they see Jesus He will take them to His garden and pick up a little flower growing there;
And with a name that only God could give He'll call the child to its mama, and the fragrance of God's love will fill the air.
Little Baby No Name I know your life was not in vain.
Though your mama's heart was broke in two, the Father had a plan for you.
Copyright ASCAP 1982)
to be continued....
Monday, October 1, 2012
Baby Charlie
For over 30 years I have been on the battle field that is stained with the blood of millions of American babies. I have buried their dismembered bodies, and I carried a poor little aborted baby boy that we called "Baby Charlie" all over the US in the attempt to wake up the sleeping church. He was 5 1/2 months in his mother's womb when he was brutally scalded out by saline solution. I will never forget the first time I saw him. I wanted to start screaming! I fell to my knees and wept. The young paster who got the baby from a doctor told me that he wanted me to be the caretaker of this little victim, and take him to my nation. "NO!" I cried. "Please, God! Don't make me do this!" His little body was black with burns, and his little fists were clenched, but one finger was pointing out at us, as if to say, "Where were you when they killed me?"
He was my companion as we traveled America in that motor coach. His home was a bucket of formaldehyde. I would wrap him in a blanket and bring him to churches and public meetings! One pastor saw him and backed away and shouted," Gross! Get that thing out of here!" "Yes, he is gross to you, isn't he, pastor ?" I replied. "His blood is on your hands and all the rest of the silent church! I love him. No one has ever loved him until he was given into our care! He's beautiful to us, but gross to you!" I took the scalded baby and wrapped his little blue blanket tightly around him and walked away.
One night at a large church my friend Ruth brought him to the front of the church and handed him to me as I addressed the crowd. He was wrapped in his little blanket, and I gently unwrapped him and introduced him to the congregation. People began to scream, others wept, and their sobs filled the church. People got out of their seats and laid on the floor weeping. I just stood there holding him as I wept. After some time the people were back in their seats, and I was speaking to them, and they all started crying again. I wasn't sure what had prompted this second round of emotion, but then I realized as I was speaking to them I was patting his little back like I patted all my babies. This was breaking the heart of the congregation. I handed him back to Ruth, and I closed the meeting. I went to the phone and called Harry, my husband. I was weeping uncontrollably as I said, "We have to bury Charlie. It's killing me! I was standing up there tonight coddling him and patting his back."
We planned his funeral in Pensacola, Florida. He had a little casket, and he finally was getting the burial he deserved. I had body guards there appointed by the police because of threats on my life. FBI agents were mulling around, and of course, the news media was there. I gave the eulogy, and picked up my guitar and began to sing my song to Charlie.
As we gather here today on this very solemn day, it make me wonder why.
Have we really gone this far, or will I waken and discover that it's just a dream?
You should be lying in your bed, or snuggled in your mother's arms so tight.
Now we commit your little body to the ground, Baby Charlie.
Mr. newsman, since your here, I wonder could you shed a tear for this little boy?
On the 6 o:clock today will you push it all away, or will you tell them?
He was sentenced, but not tried; one of millions who have died without a plea.
Is their a future for a people without love, Baby Charlie?
And they chant, " It's my body! It's my life! I'm a woman , and I have the right to choose!"
All their chanting they can save; Just tell me who put Baby Charlie in the grave?
We must come together ; we must realize that we must take a stand!
For the blood that stains America is on our hands!
Is there not a better way than throwing little ones away? My God! There has to be!
For I can walk away from you, Baby Charlie, but I can never walk away from me.
Copyright Dovesong 1982
People were silent as we left the funeral home. Even the hecklers were quiet as the police kept a watchful eye I as I walked through the crowd. We drove to the cemetery, and when I saw the grave site I wept . He was being buried between two children. It looked like a place that was not kept up; a cemetery for the poor. "I don't want to put him here," I said through tears as my husband gripped my hand.
People silently placed flowers and teddy bears on the grave as we were leaving. I will never begin to put in to words what I felt as we drove away. I looked back as we pulled out of the cemetery, and I saw an old arched sign over the entrance that read, "Potter's Cemetery." "Oh, Look at the name of this place!" I cried as I strained my neck to look back as we drove out. "It's called the Potter's Cemetery! The blood money for Jesus was used for the Potter's Field! He was sold out for thirty pieces of silver, and Charlie was sold out in the name of choice!" I cried all the way back to our hotel. I continue to cry!
Years later, my friend Ruth and I returned to the cemetery. "This isn't it," I said, as I read the name of the cemetery as we drove in. "Yes, this is the place," she said. "No! It was called the Potter's Cemetery. I saw the sign as we pulled out that day! I cried all the way back to the hotel over that sign," I told her. "Well, as far as I know the cemetery has always been called by this name," she said. " All I know is I saw the sign! I could draw it for you!" I said. There is no doubt in my mind to this day that I saw the old sign the read, " Potter's Cemetery."
A few years ago I was so filled with the sadness of all of the death... I was so exhausted from being on the front lines for so long that God just picked me up and told me I need a time of R and R. I felt guilty leaving the war, but I needed rest and healing, and restoration in my own life. The enemy of our faith did everything possible to drag me down... I won most of the battles, but I certainly lost some. Now, as our country stands at the crossroads, I feel the hand of Jesus lifting me up again and leading back to the battle.
This is the most important election of our life time. The trumpet is being sounded by men and women of God all over America. It is a call of repentance. It is a call to restore our great nation! God has been thrown out, and His name has been trampled on. Churches preach "tolerance" instead of the blood of Jesus! CNN and other liberal voices have tried to drown the truth, as they promote injustice and perversion. I say ENOUGH! Its time to take back America! Its time to get rid of every elected official whose purpose is to take this great nation down! Its time to turn our eyes back to our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, and turn off the prime time trash, and lying news networks that hide the real news of what is really happening to this great land! What ever happened to the patriots who cried, " Give me liberty, or give me death!" May God, our Father, resurrect that spirit in us! I love America! I want it back for my children, and their children, and I am willing to fight every enemy from hell to keep this great country from falling! Who is on the Lord's side? Stand up!
In the powerful name of Jesus,
Penny Lea
He was my companion as we traveled America in that motor coach. His home was a bucket of formaldehyde. I would wrap him in a blanket and bring him to churches and public meetings! One pastor saw him and backed away and shouted," Gross! Get that thing out of here!" "Yes, he is gross to you, isn't he, pastor ?" I replied. "His blood is on your hands and all the rest of the silent church! I love him. No one has ever loved him until he was given into our care! He's beautiful to us, but gross to you!" I took the scalded baby and wrapped his little blue blanket tightly around him and walked away.
One night at a large church my friend Ruth brought him to the front of the church and handed him to me as I addressed the crowd. He was wrapped in his little blanket, and I gently unwrapped him and introduced him to the congregation. People began to scream, others wept, and their sobs filled the church. People got out of their seats and laid on the floor weeping. I just stood there holding him as I wept. After some time the people were back in their seats, and I was speaking to them, and they all started crying again. I wasn't sure what had prompted this second round of emotion, but then I realized as I was speaking to them I was patting his little back like I patted all my babies. This was breaking the heart of the congregation. I handed him back to Ruth, and I closed the meeting. I went to the phone and called Harry, my husband. I was weeping uncontrollably as I said, "We have to bury Charlie. It's killing me! I was standing up there tonight coddling him and patting his back."
We planned his funeral in Pensacola, Florida. He had a little casket, and he finally was getting the burial he deserved. I had body guards there appointed by the police because of threats on my life. FBI agents were mulling around, and of course, the news media was there. I gave the eulogy, and picked up my guitar and began to sing my song to Charlie.
As we gather here today on this very solemn day, it make me wonder why.
Have we really gone this far, or will I waken and discover that it's just a dream?
You should be lying in your bed, or snuggled in your mother's arms so tight.
Now we commit your little body to the ground, Baby Charlie.
Mr. newsman, since your here, I wonder could you shed a tear for this little boy?
On the 6 o:clock today will you push it all away, or will you tell them?
He was sentenced, but not tried; one of millions who have died without a plea.
Is their a future for a people without love, Baby Charlie?
And they chant, " It's my body! It's my life! I'm a woman , and I have the right to choose!"
All their chanting they can save; Just tell me who put Baby Charlie in the grave?
We must come together ; we must realize that we must take a stand!
For the blood that stains America is on our hands!
Is there not a better way than throwing little ones away? My God! There has to be!
For I can walk away from you, Baby Charlie, but I can never walk away from me.
Copyright Dovesong 1982
People were silent as we left the funeral home. Even the hecklers were quiet as the police kept a watchful eye I as I walked through the crowd. We drove to the cemetery, and when I saw the grave site I wept . He was being buried between two children. It looked like a place that was not kept up; a cemetery for the poor. "I don't want to put him here," I said through tears as my husband gripped my hand.
People silently placed flowers and teddy bears on the grave as we were leaving. I will never begin to put in to words what I felt as we drove away. I looked back as we pulled out of the cemetery, and I saw an old arched sign over the entrance that read, "Potter's Cemetery." "Oh, Look at the name of this place!" I cried as I strained my neck to look back as we drove out. "It's called the Potter's Cemetery! The blood money for Jesus was used for the Potter's Field! He was sold out for thirty pieces of silver, and Charlie was sold out in the name of choice!" I cried all the way back to our hotel. I continue to cry!
Years later, my friend Ruth and I returned to the cemetery. "This isn't it," I said, as I read the name of the cemetery as we drove in. "Yes, this is the place," she said. "No! It was called the Potter's Cemetery. I saw the sign as we pulled out that day! I cried all the way back to the hotel over that sign," I told her. "Well, as far as I know the cemetery has always been called by this name," she said. " All I know is I saw the sign! I could draw it for you!" I said. There is no doubt in my mind to this day that I saw the old sign the read, " Potter's Cemetery."
A few years ago I was so filled with the sadness of all of the death... I was so exhausted from being on the front lines for so long that God just picked me up and told me I need a time of R and R. I felt guilty leaving the war, but I needed rest and healing, and restoration in my own life. The enemy of our faith did everything possible to drag me down... I won most of the battles, but I certainly lost some. Now, as our country stands at the crossroads, I feel the hand of Jesus lifting me up again and leading back to the battle.
This is the most important election of our life time. The trumpet is being sounded by men and women of God all over America. It is a call of repentance. It is a call to restore our great nation! God has been thrown out, and His name has been trampled on. Churches preach "tolerance" instead of the blood of Jesus! CNN and other liberal voices have tried to drown the truth, as they promote injustice and perversion. I say ENOUGH! Its time to take back America! Its time to get rid of every elected official whose purpose is to take this great nation down! Its time to turn our eyes back to our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, and turn off the prime time trash, and lying news networks that hide the real news of what is really happening to this great land! What ever happened to the patriots who cried, " Give me liberty, or give me death!" May God, our Father, resurrect that spirit in us! I love America! I want it back for my children, and their children, and I am willing to fight every enemy from hell to keep this great country from falling! Who is on the Lord's side? Stand up!
In the powerful name of Jesus,
Penny Lea
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