The Foretaste
And this is the
promise
that he hath promised
us,
even eternal life.
— 1 John 2:25
Seems like
every day lately, something really bad happens in the news, and I have an
out-of-body experience trying to adjust to it. I've had so many recently that
by now I must be somewhere near Variable 12, a star that's 10.4 million light
years away in the galaxy NGC 4203.
Hi, Mom! Send Money (If
There's Any Left Down There).
But I have an
old high-school friend, Tim Peters, who's been even farther away. Like, as far
away as you can get. Like, tippy-toeing over the line between life and death, close
enough to taste what heaven's like. Maybe.
And since today
is Easter, it's a good day to let him tell about it. It's a great reminder
that, tough as things seem down here these days, Our Savior has promised us
something better in the life after this. Much, much, MUCH better. CRAZY better!
Here's Tim with his wonderful wife
Stacy.
You see, Tim
died one day at around age 50 after developing congestive heart failure,
suffering more than a dozen heart attacks, and going through six hours of heart
surgery.
He coded,
showed no brain activity, and technically died . . . but then he came back to
life.
Sure, there are
physiological and neurobiological mechanisms at play in near-death experiences
like he had. Science can explain what happened . . . to a point. But too much
of these stories about people who edge over and then come back just taste like
Jesus and His Easter gift of eternal life. In the midst of what should have
been a terrifying experience, people feel calm and peaceful, as if nothing bad
was going to happen to them.
Which, because
of the Cross, is true.
Today, Tim is a
totally different man. Oh, he's still funny, still intense, still active and talented
and hard-working, still a strong Christian . . . but somehow, now, he's also
better: more loving, more compassionate, more alive.
Let him tell
it:
"As I was
coming out of the anesthesia the afternoon after my surgery I remember hearing
a female voice saying that I had no blood pressure. I could hear whistles
and bells and sirens going off. I remember thinking that it was either getting
very busy in my room or I was at the state fair.
"All I could
see was darkness. I couldn't move my hands as they were shackled to the bed and
I could not speak because of the respirator in my throat. I listened to
everything that was going on in the darkness around me. The doctors and staff
were in panic mode, but amazingly enough, I felt very serene despite the sounds
of urgency in everyone's voices.
"Dr. Castlemain
sounded somewhat panicked that the anesthesiologist was not there yet. He
was pounding on my chest, adjusting tubes in my chest, and pushing and squeezing
everything near my chest. I heard a female voice yelling out that
something else was failing. I wondered if this is what dying was
like.
"Then I remember
seeing the most beautiful field of blue in the darkness above me. It
reminded me of looking up at the Milky Way on a dark summer's night. But
this color and beauty were indescribable. It reminded me of a couple of summers
back when my wife and I were laying on the dock at the lake, where we hang out
a lot during the summer, and looking up into the pitch black night and seeing
every star in the sky.
"The feeling of
security and warmth was also quite beautiful. It felt calm, as if you were
among friends. There came a time when I could no longer hear the panicked
voices of the doctors, just serenity. No pain whatsoever. I felt very peaceful,
thinking random thoughts about life and things in general. For me, time didn't
seem to matter. I was away from everything that was happening - detached - like
I was now observing but not in a visual way.
"The field of
blue seemed like a pathway to somewhere. It was leading me. I seemed to know
that there was a threshold waiting for me to cross. It was drawing me, but there
were also the thoughts of family that were keeping me where I was. I had
immense feelings of undone business - things I needed to stay here to finish. I
was not ready to follow that path, but I was not afraid of where it led.
"I thought to
myself that I didn't believe it was a good time to die, as I had not said
goodbye to my wife and kids.
"Then, all of a
sudden I felt the rush of warm liquid all over my neck and chest as apparently
the breathing tube was yanked out of me, allowing me to breathe on my own.
"The last thing
I remember was panting like a dog and breathing on my own, until I woke up
again a few days later, sitting in the chair next to my bed. I would spend the
next two weeks sleeping in a chair because during the surgery they had 'frozen'
my shoulder and it was causing some pain. I remember during this time
'visiting' many people I loved who had already passed. My father, my friend John,
my grandma GG, and many others.
"There are many
things about that event that I have never discussed with anyone and I'm not
sure if I ever will speak of them to anyone. Not for any particular
reason, but because I don't know myself what it all means. Plus I don't
want anyone to think that I am more 'mental' than they already think I am.
"What I do know
is, is that I want everyone I love to believe, so we can all be together, forever.
"My
cardiologist, Dr. Bissing, would later tell me that I was hearing everything
because the hearing is the last thing to go. He would also later tell me
that I didn't die because I wasn't ready. He said he can tell which
patients will make it through the surgery and which ones won't, simply by their
attitudes. He says some people are just not willing to fight for their
lives.
"What I feel is
that I was given a second chance, and I took it."
Tim says the
overriding benefit of his near-death experience is that he no longer fears
death at all, and has shifted his priorities.
Though he still works very hard, he makes sure to spend more time with
family and friends.
He is much more
grateful for his life and for everyone and everything that makes it sweeter and
better.
He loves to say
The Lord's Prayer
He enjoys every day.
And every day,
he visits a nursing home to greet residents, especially Alzheimer's patients,
with a smile and a kind word.
His advice from
his little trip up yonder:
"When someone says that life is
short, believe it! Life is also a gift and a learning experience. It is
precious! Treat it with care!" †
--------------------
Tim's
contact information:
Tim Peters Voiceover Services
9408 Tomashaw Lane
Lenexa, KS 66219
(913) 568-7179
--------------------
Happy
Easter! Hallelujah! Jesus Christ has conquered sin and death. He is risen,
indeed!
Here's
a little message for your Easter basket:
http://www.lshs64.com/enjoytheride.html
