Subject: What Happens After You Kick The Bucket? June 12, 2006.
A few days ago a person sent me a book. I won't say what the
name of the book is for certain reasons. It turns out to be the
story of a person who was in an accident. His car was hit by a
truck and he was killed. His heart was stopped and he wasn't
breathing. They covered him with a trap so people wouldn't be
staring at him. A person came along and pr-yed over him for
at least 90 minutes and then he came back to life. Here are
some parts of his story.
.................................................................
.................................................................
Before the accident I was a part time preacher and member of
a certain type of organization. This all happened on January
18, 1989. I went straight to hea-en.
While I was in heav-n, a B------ preacher came on the accident
scene. Even though he knew I was dead, he rushed to my lifeless
body and pra-ed for me. Despite the scoffing of the Emergency
Medical Technicians (EMTs), he refused to stop pr-ying.
At least ninety minutes later I returned earth.
This is my story.
......
When I died, I didn't flow through a long, dark tunnel. I had
no sense of fading away or coming back. I never felt my body
being transported into the light. I heard no voices callling to
me or anthing else. Simultaneous with my last recollection of
seeing the bridge and the rain, a light enveloped me, with a
brilliance beyond earthly comprehension or description. Only
that.
In my next moment of awareness, I was standing in hea-en.
..................
Joy pulsated through me as I looked around, and at that moment
I became aware of a large crowd of people. They stood in front
of a brilliant, ornate gate. I have no idea how far away they
were, such things a distance didn't matter. As the crowd rushed
toward me, I didn't see Je--s, but I did see people I had known.
As they surged toward me, I knew istantly that all of them
had di-d during my lifetime. Their presence seemed absolutely
natural.
They rushed toward me, and every person was smiling,shouting
and praising G-d. Althouh no one said so, intuitively I knew
they were my celestial welcoming committee. It was as if
they all gathered just outide ha-aven's gate, waiting for me.
The first person I recogized was Joe Kilberth, my granfather.
He looked exactly as I remembered him, with his shock of white
hair and what I called a big banana nose. He stopped
momentarily and stood in front of me. A grin covered his face.
I may have callled his name, but I'm not sure.
"Donnie!" (That's what my franfather always called me.) His
eyes lit up, and he held out his arms as he took the last
steps toward me. He embraced me, holding me tightly. he was
once again the robust, strong grandfather I had remembered as
a child.
John Winston. johnfw@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
|
