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 trans****ted 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]
What Happens After You Kick The Bucket. Part 2 of
2 June 13, 2006.
After meeting many of his past friends Don started talking
about the music in hea-en. Here are his thoughts on the
matter.
..............................................................
..............................................................
As a young boy I spent a lot of time out in the country and
woods. When walking through waist-high dried grass, I often
surprised a covey of birds and flushed them out of their nest
on the ground. A whoo****ng sound accompanied their wings as
they flew away.
My most vivid memory of hea-en is what I heard. I can only
describe it as a ho-y swoosh of wings.
But I'd have to magnify that thousands of times to explain
the effect of the sound in hea-en.
It was the most beutiful and pleasant sound I've ever heard,
and it didn't stop. It was like a song that goes on forever.
I felt awestruck, wanting only to listen. I didn't just hear
music. It seemed as if I were part of the music ---and it
played in and through my body. I stood still, and yet I felt
embraced by the sounds.
As aware as I became of the joyous sounds and melodies that
fillled the air, I wasn't distracted. I felt as if the
hea-enly concert permeated every part of my being, and at the
same time I focused on eveything else around me.
I never saw anything that produced the sound. I had the sense
that whatever made the heav-nly music was just above me, but
I didn't look up. I'm not sure why. Perhaps it was because I
was so enamored with the people around me, or maybe it was
because my senses were so engaged that I feasted on everything
at the same time. I asked no questions and never wondered about
anything. Everthing was perfect. I sensed that I knew
everything and had no questions to ask.
Myriads of sounds so filled mind and heart that it's difficult
to explain them. The most amazing one, however was the ang-ls
wings. I didn't see them, but the sound was a beautiful h-ly
melody with a cadence that seemed never to stop. The
swi****ng resounded as if it was a form of never-ending praise.
As I listened I simply knew what it was.
A second sound remains, even today, the single, most vivid
memory I have of my entire h-avenly experience. I call it music
but it differed from anyhing I had ever heard or ever expect to
hear on the earth. The melodies of praise filled the
atmosphere. The nonstop intensity and endless variety
overwhelmed me.
.....
JW That's about all I had better quote from the book which
is called:
A TRUE STORY
of DE-TH AND LIFE
90 MINUTES IN
HEA-EN
DON PIPER
WITH CECIL MURPHY.
The book says Don can be reached at;
donpiperministries@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
2 of 2.
John Winston. johnfw@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
|
