Cat lovers, Dying, Human Behaviour, Human Nature, Spiritual

Animals Understand Death

We are all born, and when we are, we’re already dying. No matter how, no matter when.

We humans, even after scientific discoveries, ghostly encounters, reading about Near Death Experiences, we don’t fully grasp it. Does the human spirit really weigh about two pounds? Are the stories true about NDE? Do children really claim to know their previous life, tell us how they died, and insist on pointing out photos of themselves in albums or online?

Who can say? It’s perspective, and much of that depends on our believes, religion, our education. What did our parents teach our about it?

Our loved ones… we fear abandonment by our loved ones, even when we’re by their side to say a final good-bye. They’re leaving us. They don’t return from this trip, do they? Do they all collect in a place above, or its that belief mythology? Maybe we see them when we die, maybe we don’t. We all have these questions, and it feels even more intense when we’re not there when their body becomes just a body. Did they know we meant to be with them? Were they looking for us to convey a final word, something we should know about? Will they not rest in peace? Will they? Anxiety.

We fear dying ourselves. What are we leaving behind? Are our affairs in order, have we talked to those who’re important to us? Is out plot picked out? Casket or cremation? Who will attend our funeral. What are the thoughts of people we know—are we liked and loved, will we be missed? This is all anxiety. Human behaviour, the human condition. Rarely do any of us truly understand death—our own or another’s.

Animals understand death. They know when they’re dying. They make no plans. They know they will move on from the physical body, and they are only afraid if they were threatened while it happened. But they were afraid of the threat, the pain more the death. This is my humble opinion.

When our pets are not well, and it’s the end, if they go naturally, we find they hid away to be alone.  They didn’t scurry in their last days to gather other pets to their side. If we take them to a veterinarian and stay with them, still, they don’t protest their death. They’re sick, they know. They had no anxiety about this life they lived, heaven or hell as a final place, they just let it go. Maybe it’s painful, and we as pet parents plainly discern that. We cry, we mourn. Yet they accept it as a part of life and how it ends. The transition is difficult, the end result is expected.

Perhaps animals know they’re on a timer when they’re born.

Thanks for reading.

Human Behaviour, Human Nature, Humanity, Spiritual

A Micro Second Death Face

I remember the headlights and the shiny bumper on the white SUV. I was swerving and my husband was yelling at me, “You’re going to roll the car!”

The only thing separating vehicles from other vehicles on the road is about five feet of air and an imaginary do not cross barrier. What are drivers on these days? How many believe they’re experienced drivers who are immune to the effects of alcohol or hard drugs, or marijuana for the argument? Or was he texting?

My car didn’t roll, but I felt the unsteady jerking beneath me. I had swerved to the right towards the soft, gravel shoulder, and the SUV driver swerved to the left, missing my little Hyundai Accent by mere inches, tucking himself back in. He couldn’t see us when he thought he could pass? There was no warning. He drove out directly in front me.

That’s all I remember. My husband yelling, near tipping of my car, and the white SUV’s headlights and shiny bumper.

My life is forever changed.

Everything I have worked for, everyone I have loved or not loved, every sticky note I’ve written to remind myself of something wouldn’t matter beyond the micro second that it takes to die, then leave my body, and watch the vehicles embrace, in a crunching tangle from my soul floating 20 feet above. I’d look for my husband as he was extracted. He’d be limp and bent unnaturally. I’d try to see myself behind the battered face I used to recognize. The emergency team would pull my squashed body out. I’d see my husband looking, too. We’d then see each other hovering above the chaos, and we’d remember the discussions we so often had about dying together as neither of us could bear the emptiness if we were left behind. Also, there he would be, the drunk driver being extracted from his white SUV. He’d be bloodied and crying, repeatedly saying he’s so sorry. He’d be banged up, but he’d see his loved ones again. He’d finish projects, he’ll drink again.

He’ll forget about the people he killed when he drinks himself to sleep, but the dead will be there every time he wakes.

Nothing would matter anymore. Not my novel which was accepted by a trustworthy publisher, not the closet I meant to clean out, not the computer I am writing this on— nothing. Not a thing would matter. Our lives would matter to all who had to receive the dreaded news, though. Our grown kids, our friends. Our bosses. Our innocent cats who always wait to hear the door open would be surprised as family came in to do what had to be done. Maybe our cats would pine to death in a shelter, separated from us and each other.

None of this death aftermath happened, though, but my life has changed nonetheless.

Thank God we are alive. No one can tell me God didn’t have the last say at that near head on collision. Why am I here? I’m going to find out. We all should find out why we’re here. A micro second wipe out could be anyone’s ultimate fate, but when?

Live before you leave. Really, really live. God Bless.

Human Behaviour, Human Nature, Spiritual

Folly to Wisdom


To be humbled is the result of enduring complex hardship. Humans must learn many cogent lessons from suffering in order to progress from folly to wisdom.

Even those who have mental illness will learn from suffering. They learn compassion, kindness and sensitivity. They learn to pull strength from where they thought was none.

Humans who suffer physical ailments learn much the same as mentally ill humans.

It’s anguish then that teaches we humans to turn from our egos and embrace our spiritual perspective. It’s learning to share our methods of giving what we want in order to cope with what we have.

Robin Williams gave much, because he suffered much.

Thanks for reading~


Human Nature, Spiritual

The Uncivilized Ego


Our human nature may be natural, but it’s the natural we’re trying to tame. This is the ego—worst thing to happen to humans, really. Boot camp down here on this planet is so complex; our egos run uncivilized through our hearts. We are all here to learn how to love unconditionally. Not to say iniquitous persons and demonic behaviours are included in a love-no-matter-what stipulation, evil is evil. We hate what is evil; in a perfect world, we would all recoil from what’s sinister.

Humans are here on the earth to learn enthusiasm for kindness, compassion, altruism. We must be trained to realize that egos can’t do that. Our sense of self-importance and self-esteem exists on a fine line of the me, me, I, I attitude and an ability to survive. But ego is likely the cause a  lot of divorces, tension in the workplace, jealousy, greed, etcetera.

Konecky & Konecky published a book by William Hone called, The Lost Books of the Bible. Jesus’ childhood is a fine example of just how fully human He was on earth. He also had to learn unconditional love, then grown, He taught why it is so important to realize the our ego is our human nature, and egos are primitive and destructive.

I have an ego. We all do. Just how much we let it run screaming naked through out hearts determines what effect we have on the humans around us, and ourselves.

Unconditional love versus ego. Boot camp. Do the best you can, fellow humans. We’re all on this planet to be schooled.

© Lynn P. Penner, 2015

information, Spiritual

A Birthday Wrongly Noticed


Just a quick note today, because I’d like to acknowledge someone’s real birthday.

Jesus’ birthday was September 11. If you google words like “Jesus’ real birthday,” you’ll find numerous articles to choose from. Scientists have gathered information about the ‘star’ the three wise men followed. I’ll let you read for yourself what articles say, because there’re many to choose from and I leave you to make up your own mind; however, it makes sense now why the ‘terrorist attack,’ a world-changing event, happened on 911. Could a scornful act towards God be more accurate than to acknowledge Christ’s birthday with evil mayhem?

We have our different views and beliefs about what happened that dreadful day, but in the end, the 911 occurrence was planned on that day in September for a reason.

I’ll never forget what happened, nor will most people of the world. And today is that anniversary. And Jesus’ birthday.

So today is September 11—happy birthday Jesus, I’m grateful you were physically born into this material world to rescue we humans from our own demise.  

I’m still celebrating Christmas, but as a family gathering and a good turkey dinner. And warm-looking lights that twinkle and set the ambiance as a peaceful and grateful day. But today I will celebrate Jesus’ birthday with a bouquet of vibrant flowers on my table and a song that I’ll make up to dedicate to the One who came and did more that any man has ever done or will do. I can’t sing, but Jesus already knows that isn’t my talent.



encouragement, Spiritual

Sky Dad


It’s just my opinion I suppose, but the old-fashioned mode of expression makes me slump a bit. I mean the phrases still used in this day and age regarding our human lives and whether we will live contentedly forever beyond our earthy form. Will we be welcomed into the sublime afterlife when we give up our ghost? The key phrase of language for this seems too outdated to me.

It sounds so old-school to me when people ask if I’m “saved,” and I want to correct them and tell them, “Yes, I’ve been rescued.” Rescued from the belief that death is the end of my soul, exempt from the idea that God is only there for religious people who follow a sect, and liberated from an eternity of lamentations. Rescued means bailed out, deliverance, redemption. Saved means rescued.

I don’t ask people if they’ve been “saved.” I find in this day and age, anyone one who hasn’t cashed in their free offer for having a life jacket in the troubled waters of life, and a reservation for a peaceful place afterwards, probably hasn’t had it  explained in laid-back terms. I’m someone who simply follows my Brother, Jesus, because a relationship has been developed with Him, thanks to Sky Dad. It isn’t about a collection of people who’ve taught me about their particular doctrine. But what if I’m not into a set of rituals and a segregated doctrine to adhere to, and if I don’t dress in my Sunday’s finest or have beads to help me pray… am I going to spend my eternity in a spiritual realm of evil and suffering?

God is not an obscured, big, old, mean face in the sky looking down waiting the smite humans who make mistakes. God is my Sky Dad, Light. Light is good. Light, as we’ve found out through science, is miraculously amazing, healing, and necessary to all life on this planet as we know it, except of course mould and select creatures. God is Light. Light is to dispel darkness. From Light comes enlightenment—for understanding a problem or mystery. God is Light, that beacon in the dense fog to guide us on the vast and choppy sea of life.

The human race is an out of control species. We need a leader, we always have. Our Free-will allows our choices; however, coupled up with the ego, we humans need The Light to rescue us from our own demise. Or we can steer out little boats into darkness, no compass, no provisions. Why does it have to be so dark without God, though? Because He wants us to depend on Him the way ducklings follow their mama and learn to swim and eat and survive, bringing forth new generations to learn the same skills.  Sky Dad wants us to hang out with our Devine Brother He created, discover this dependable friendship in Him. Find guidance and dispel loneliness, to ask and be pleasantly surprised to receive what we need. Our Divine Brother died a cruel, torturous, and disturbing death to attach us to Sky Dad in a way we humans would never accomplish on our own.

I could go on, but I think I made key point about old-school phrases. I’m rescued. My Divine Brother, Jesus, is my most dependable buddy, counsellor, confidant, and protector. My Sky Dad has a handle on my life. He always did, I just had to discover that my way when I was 14-years-old. The bible has been handy, too. Proverbs is my favourite book. “Acknowledge me in all your ways and I will keep your path straight.” Proverbs, 3: 6, and I’m grateful to be rescued.

© L. P. Penner, 2015

It’s labour day Monday. I’m off to do pretty much nothing strenuous. I don’t think I’ll even make the bed. Have a hunky dory day. 🙂 God Bless~

encouragement, Spiritual

Tenacity Isn’t Genetic


I seem to be lacking the tolerance I need. Waiting in a grocery store line up is okay. Waiting for a prescription to be filled isn’t too bad. Waiting to hear back from a publisher is ridiculous. I can hardly stand it.

You do lack patience. You couldn’t even wait out nine months to be born.

Don’t get me wrong, Jesus, I am not asking for patience. I did that once. It wasn’t pretty.

Trials are not festive, nor is a hurried spirit joyful.

It’s hard to have joy inside when I keep getting disappointed day after day—because the wait was supposed to be six months…ish, I guess. It is only the seventh, though, isn’t it? I guess I am impatient. I am confident they’ll let me know either way. They let my friend know. It was a no, but they got back to her. When, though?

Everything happens for a reason, everything has its own time. A hurried spirit loses hope.

I haven’t completely lost hope. But I’m getting irritated.

You are a measure beyond having good faith in me. We can determine your patience further.

Isn’t that what we’re doing now?

That is what I am doing now. You are preoccupied with negative thoughts.

Oh. Okay, so how am I supposed to just get more faith about this?

Be farsighted about the eventual outcome. I said I would help you. Do you trust me?

Yeah, but…

Do you trust me?

I do, it’s just that…

Do you trust me?

Okay, you’re right. You’ve taken me through a lot. I just have to wait.

And trust while you wait. Your endurance is being built upon. I know your needs now and for the future. Do you not have an appointment is a half hour?

Oh! Yes I do! Thanks for reminding me. I’ll talk to you later.

I’ll always be here. I love you.

Aw, I love you, too. Thanks for making me feel better.

Anytime, Little Lamb. Have a good appointment~

© Lynn P. Penner, 2015


Someone Recorded Crickets then Slowed Down the Track, And It Sounds Like People Singing – UPDATE | True Activist

Someone Recorded Crickets then Slowed Down the Track, And It Sounds Like People Singing – UPDATE | True Activist.

A narrator speaks briefly a little ways in. Listen well past that and  you will hear opera singing. It’s incredible, honest to God~ Oh—you’ll see a track if you scroll a bit. Click at the beginning of the track and enjoy.


Although My Path is Sometimes Dark


You are with me; You do know me. My needs are at Your feet and my praises as well, Lord. And at my feet is the path You’ve set me to travel. I shall succeed knowing that although my path is sometimes dark, and I cannot see my way, Your voice I follow, Your hand I take, Your advice I seek.

From the blue print of my life, You show me a room at a time. It’s a complicated house tour, yet the sun-filled room is nigh. My life’s goal, my hope is there in the sunshine, a victory-scented breeze circulates…. I will pass words around the world, floating on a breeze, for I am a writer. My words, You say, have strong purpose: Hope, help, heart-healing. My heart’s voice, my ministry.

I hope to encourage people, and that includes those who strive towards mental wellness. I’ll write about that some day.

encouragement, Spiritual

Poetically Correct


Sometimes, when I’m not expecting it, I hear the still, small voice:

My Little Lamb, why don’t you write down this poem,
I have a lot to say, but not to you alone.

Dear Precious Ones,
fret not of your troubles,
worry not of your wrongs,
yet converse with Me about them
in the privacy of your room.

I am here to listen
if it takes the whole night long.
I am here to guide your mission,
just ask for grace each dawn.

There is nothing you cannot tell me, I’m the son of God. 
I am here for you always; I know your suffering seems long. 
I just ask you of one thing while you talk to me alone,
and that is to reach way down deep and be honest to the bone.

Confidentiality within We Three, I, Jesus, will talk to my Father, and Spirit who came down.
It is We who make the Three In One: a family run counselling team of teaching, guidance and love.
What is the hurt to render you hopeless, to feel that I am not found?
If you cannot explain in words, by your precious tears, I will discern.

Trust in your instincts,
for your essence knows I adore you
like no one could before.
What is it you need? Just ask Me for help.
Then you must listen, and trust in My competent counsel.

Mention often your
recall them all
to keep you going forward
in the midst of your inner wars.  

L. P. Penner