Is There Really Life After Death: My Experience With The After Life
It was July 22, 1992 when I had my life after death experience. Not feeling well for several days, I was adamant about not seeing the doctor. As hot as it was outside I honestly didn't feel like going anywhere. For some reason I decided to call mom that afternoon which was out of the norm for me. My contact with my mother was more toward the evening or weekend. I explained to her that I was feeling dizzy and felt very cold. She told me it sounded like Pneumonia to her and that I needed to go to the doctor. Being in nursing school, I knew what I was supposed to do, but was hard-headed and refused.
Getting up from the couch I made my way to the bedroom and laid upon my bed. My body was aching and my chest hurt. I dialed the phone to mom and that is the last thing I remember as I took a journey to the waiting place. The waiting place is paradise, another dimension that our souls go to when we move from this life to another. None of us go directly to heaven when we die, only Elijah and I believe Enoch had the opportunity to see heaven.
Looking down on my 5'5" ,115 pound frame laying on the bed, I turned to the light. It was a brilliantly bright light with many people without faces standing before me. It was so beautiful all of the colors were more brilliant then they are here on earth. Grass was greener, trees were fruitful and full and the birds sang. I heard a choir and the music was nothing like we have here or in church. Being there I felt love, warmth and happiness. The people knew me and I felt I knew them. I did not feel fear, anger or sorrow just peace and harmony.
As a hand reached out to me I knew then it was Jesus and he said in a clear voice, " It is not your time, it is time to go back." I remember looking back and seeing my body on a guerney in the ER room. My mother at my side. I heard the doctors' and the nurses say, "she is breathing!"
Mom said I had been gone for at least five minutes .My heart stopped beating; but to me it only felt like moments. She was crying tears of joy as she held my hand. My diagnosis, Pneumonia just like mom believed. It was my mother who saved me from that fateful day and I am so thankful she was there. I can still see her face and feel her hand in mine as I tell the story of my afterlife experience with Jesus.
Now I realize there will be people who do not believe in an afterlife. Others will discredit heaven altogether and others believe scientifically that our brains create this melancholy place when we experience trauma.
No matter what you believe, I know from firsthand experience that there is life after death. The reason why I believe in God is because I went to that waiting place where are souls go before they reach heaven. One day I will go back there and waiting will be my mother, with her hand out to me on the other side.
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