The topic of near-death experiences is near and dear to me, because I had this experience when I was 4 years old. I am nearing my mid-50s now, but this NDE remains as vivid to me now as when it happened. The experience took me on a journey unlike anything I could have imagined at such a young age.
I had become, very suddenly, violently ill, was rushed to the hospital, and lay in a comatose state for three days. A fever that rose upwards between 105 and 106 degrees Fahrenheit was ravaging my tiny body as the hospital staff worked diligently to cool me down. It was as if packs of ice were surrounding me, but I was not cold. I was not really there. My little physical body was there, but my Spirit essence was somewhere else — somewhere safe after floating through a tunnel surrounded with white light.
I must have been in Heaven, because it was like no place I knew of on Earth. I found myself running around on the softest grass my little bare feet ever felt, and the sky was a turquoise blue with what looked like diamonds scattered around. I was surrounded by loving energy, there was just peace, love and joy as I was running with the angels and walking alongside Jesus.
But a tug of war took place when I was being pulled back into my little sick body while wanting desperately to stay where I was. I saw a priest anointing me with oils and my parents sobbing. My heart ached for their pain, but looking into the beautiful, loving eyes of Jesus, I told Him, in no uncertain terms, I wanted to stay right where I was. As I reached my little hand up to grab hold of His, He held His palm out as if to say “stop.” He said, “They need you more right now,” and then He took a step back. I wanted to run after Him, but knew I had to return to my parents.
When I woke up, the doctors said it was a miracle. My dad said a voice told him to take hold of my hand and I would wake up, and my mom had not been able to stay in the room after the priest performed the last rites sacrament. But I already knew my mom had not been in the room and my dad had taken hold of my hand.
When I told my parents that I had seen everything that took place around me in the hospital and that I had actually gone through a tunnel of white light to play with the angels, and that Jesus had sent me back, they both frowned and told me not tell anyone “that story” because people would think I was crazy! Being the “good child” that I was, I kept quiet. In fact, I became so introverted and painfully shy after my hospital stay that my grandmother thought I suffered brain damage from the high fever that held me hostage for several days.
I was quiet because I was silently processing the event, often feeling angry toward God, Jesus and the angels. How dare I get sent back when I had been surrounded by so much love? What had I done that was so awful that even Jesus did not want me to stay in Heaven? Turns out I had not done anything wrong. It just wasn’t my time to leave Earth.
I still have vivid dreams of that event, but I no longer get angry about being back on Earth. It took me years before I would be comfortable publicly acknowledging that I had a near-death experience. And guess what? People do not think I am crazy when I talk about it!
Coming to terms with, and publicly speaking about, my NDE has healed me at a deep soul level, and I will forever be grateful for the wonderful experience I was gifted with at such a young age.