Brief Retelling
...Something
was wrong...
 It
was November 27, 1973. I lay in a Seattle hospital bed, recovering
from a partial hysterectomy. The surgery had gone well, yet
feelings of foreboding settled heavily upon me. A dark feeling
was in my room. Death seemed to swirl everywhere around me.
Questions
about death filled my mind. What was death like? What awaited
me there on the other side?
If it were God waiting, I was sure I did not want to go there.
I did not want to meet God. I had been taught he was vengeful
and hated sinners, and I knew I had not lived a perfect life.
As
the night deepened, I felt more fearful and more alone. The
dread of facing God's anger on Judgement Day pressed heavily
upon my heart.
But
what of the time between dying and the Final Judgment? Where
would I go to wait? Not to heaven, I knew. Not to a beautiful
place of light and love. I had been taught my soul would remain
in the dark grave until resurrection. How I feared the dark.
How I hated being alone. Since childhood, I had suffered from
claustrophobia. The thought of being buried underground terrified
me.
Not the grave! I thought. Not the awful blackness of the grave...
The
night closed in on me. Time seemed to slow. I began feeling
chilled to the bone and weaker than I had ever felt before.
My body was failing me.
Sudden
instincts warned me of mortal danger. I reached for the cord
near the bed to call the nurse. But I could not make myself
move. I lay there paralyzed, a terrible sinking sensation
spreading through my body. It felt as though the very last
drops of my blood were draining from me.
A
buzzing sound began in my head. I sank faster. My senses were
fading quickly, though my awareness remained. I noticed my
body becoming hollow and still. Too soon, the last bit of
my life's energy slipped away from me.
Then I felt a pulse of new energy surge through me and...
My spirit was suddenly drawn out through
my chest and pulled upward, as if by a giant magnet, towards
the ceiling. I
felt free, unrestrained, unconfined. Every pain from my surgery
had disappeared.
I
hovered above my bed, looking down at my own body. I felt
sorry for it. I had put it aside so easily like an unwanted
piece of clothing. It still had a lot of use left in it. But,
I felt whole and perfectly fine without it.
I
thought, This is who I really am...
Three
men—spirit beings—appeared at my side. They wore brown hooded
robes and gold braided belts. I was not afraid. Their bodies
glowed with a soft light, and their faces radiated intelligence
that seemed ages-old. Because of their dress and the wisdom
I sensed in them, I began to think of them as "monks"—three
old and kindly monks.
My
mind opened to a time before I was born on Earth. I had known
these beings then. I recognized them now. They were my friends
from eternities past—my guardian or ministering angels. They
had always been with me and had watched over me during my
life. I sensed their deep love for me, and this filled me
with joy.
"You
have died prematurely," they said. "But you should
not worry. Everything will be alright."
But
I had already started to worry. Not for myself, but for my
family. I loved my husband and children very much. We had
always been a close, loving family. How would my dying hurt
them? Would they come through okay? I had to know. I had to
see them.
I
turned to leave, somehow knowing I could exit through the
window. Once outside, I realized I had passed through the
glass. But this did not seem strange to me. I could have passed
through the wall as well. Without a pause I headed for home,
leaving my three friends behind and soaring at the speed of
thought over buildings and trees.
Before
I knew it, I was at home. There was my husband, Joe, reading
the paper in his chair. My children were playfully getting
ready for bed. As I gazed upon them, I felt calmed by a knowledge
of each one's future. Each would have challenges in life whether
I died or not, I saw. Challenges would help them grow. God
had a plan for each one, and they were in his hands now—actually
had been in his hands all along; I could see it now. I
should not worry or feel sorrowful about leaving them motherless.
In the end, my children would be fine. Only
brief moments would pass, and we would be together again.
I could accept my dying, now. I was ready to move on to whatever
else awaited me.
In
a thought, I found myself back at the hospital, standing near
my bed again. The three monks were there. Helping
me through this transition made them happy.
Soon,
a rumbling sound filled the room. I sensed the gathering of
a powerful and unrelenting energy. Beautiful tones like distant
bells called to me. I felt a most pleasant feeling inside.
The view of the room dimmed around me, and most gently I was
drawn up and into a great, whirling, black mass...
I traveled through the blackness at speeds
faster than light, or so it seemed. The pleasant feeling inside
me blossomed, and I felt the deepest tranquility imaginable
flooding through me. I was alone but not lonely. I felt comforted.
A powerful love warmed me, healed me. I knew I could stay
in this healing place as long as I desired. But I wanted to
know what lay beyond it, and I sped on.
A
pinpoint of light appeared ahead. It attracted me. I travelled
toward it, flying faster and faster. As I neared the light,
I saw the figure of a man inside it. He was the source of
the light. It shone from him in all directions, golden-colored
near him and brilliant white as it spread out. It shone more
brilliantly than the sun! Only spirit eyes could endure its
brilliance without being destroyed.
Earlier,
I had noticed a dim light radiating from my own spirit. Now
I felt my tiny light drawn to mingle with this man's brilliant
light. I moved forward, and as our lights merged, I felt the
utter explosion of his love for me. It was love complete and
unconditional. Though he knew about all my faults and even
my sins, this did not diminish his love for me. He opened
his arms, and I rushed into his full embrace, feeling cherished
as never before.
I'm
home. I'm home. I'm finally home. I repeated it over and over.
There was no question about whose arms held me so lovingly.
As with my monks, I had known him before. Memories flooded
my mind of having been with him in a previous time. This man,
this majestic man in the brilliant light who cradled me lovingly,
was Jesus Christ. He had always loved me, and he always would.
Even during my life when I had thought he hated me, he had
loved me. My joy at being again in his loving embrace spilled
from my heart. I never wanted to leave him again. He
was Life itself. Love itself. He was my Savior. My Friend.
My God.
I was home. Home.
I was finally home.
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