I cannot tell you how many times I’ve been ridiculed by my Jewish brethren for “believing in Jesus.” Being Jewish through my mother and her mother and on down the line, I am constantly told what a fool I am to believe in that “Christian idol.”
Well, the bottom line is, I believe Yeshua is THE Messiah because I’ve seen him! YHWH showed him to me in December 1971, just before I turned 21, while lying in a three-week coma at the Fort Leonard Wood Hospital, near St. Robert, Missouri.
Yes, some may roll their eyes and chuckle, and even attempt to ridicule me, but – as I’m about to explain - ADONAI gave me absolute proof that I was NOT hallucinating! You see, having come from a horrific background of child abuse and neglect, I wasn’t the least bit “religious”; and all I knew about God and His Messiah consisted only of what I had heard from friends.
I remember when I was approximately 5, my foster grandmother in Germany held me on her lap and told me about God, and I totally and completely believed her. But other than that, I had no clue what to do with God; much less, coming to any realization that I was supposed to live according to His Rules.
Until the day He opened my spiritual eyes when I was 44, I basically I felt that the “God and Jesus idea” was just a crutch for people who couldn’t face life on their own.
Regardless, YHWH kept trying to reach me as the years went on, and He even gave me my own personal “Damascus Road” experience while in a coma at the Fort Leonard Wood Hospital, caused by a ruptured appendix that had been misdiagnosed as flu. (I still have the medical records to prove it.)
Anyway, during those three weeks while comatose, I had two “out-of-body” experiences – both of which defy explanation, revealing events that I could NOT have known on my own. (I have included some scriptures wherever appropriate to make my point that I experienced things I couldn’t possibly have known at the time because I wasn’t a church-goer. I reiterate, these experiences happened just before I turned 21, at which time I had never even read the Bible. I didn’t start reading the Bible until I was 44 years old, when I “got saved” in a small-town Baptist church….)
First “out of body” experience:
In this first "experience" I remember my soul (or whatever you call the essence that made me, me) sitting up in my body, staring in confusion at all the tubes and machines and paraphernalia keeping me alive, and I simply decided I had had enough.
Next thing I knew, I had left my body completely, and was “flying” up, up, up through the roof of the hospital, heading down Interstate 44 to Springfield, to visit my adoptive father (with whom I had been living while my then-husband was in Vietnam). I remember wondering why I wanted to see my adoptive father, because that monster had been sexually abusing me from when I first met him at age 9, until age 14 when my mother divorced him. (She never knew he was a pedophile, and I never told her. She was too busy fighting her own demons….)
Anyway, during that "visit" I found “myself” (no body, just an invisible “essence”) hovering in the corner of the ceiling above the dining room table, looking down at my father and his girlfriend, Goldie, who – to my sense of hearing in this strange and unusual state - sounded like they were talking into a barrel. They were animatedly discussing my father’s plans to sell his cows and buy 300 pigs with which to start a pig farm. (Please remember this part!)
Ironically, while peering down at the couple, I was astounded to discover my lack of emotions for them. Normally, I couldn’t look at Daddy without feeling disgust; but in that moment I didn’t care about him, one way or the other; I was simply glad to know he was okay. And as for Goldie, she was like a surrogate mother with whom I had instantly bonded from the moment we met several years before. But, in my present state, I honestly didn’t feel much of anything for her, either. I didn’t feel much about anything or anyone; rather, I felt more like an observer in this world, just basically passing through.
Believing I had accomplished whatever mission I seemed to be on, I felt compelled to return to my sick body back at Fort Leonard Wood. Although I didn’t necessarily want to go back, I somehow knew I had to; and so when I arrived, I unhesitatingly sat down into myself as if taking a seat in a chair. It seemed a totally natural thing to do. I didn’t think to question this experience at all. I simply knew that I was in another realm and that questioning it would be futile because it wasn’t my place to know anything beyond what I was experiencing.
The second “out of body” experience:
Sometime thereafter – several days later – I again found myself leaving my body behind. This time, I headed for outer space and floated around for what seemed like an eternity. Having no body, no arms, no legs, that “entity” again, I was simply “consciousness” floating on a bed of swiftly moving air. I had no clue why, when or where, and I had no control over anything. I was terrified.
Although I couldn’t see much, I distinctly heard sounds from somewhere below, on another plane; they were eerie sounds, comprised of a mixture of howling winds and human wailing. In my confusion, I was certain that, whatever I was hearing, I wanted no part of it.
Suddenly, to my great relief, in the darkness, a few meters above me and off to the right, there materialized a silhouetted figure of a man dressed in white robes, standing – or so it appeared – in front of the sun. He was too bright to look at until I was fairly close – perhaps a dozen meters away, which was as close as I ever got.
Whoever he was and however he happened to be there, was totally irrelevant. I was just glad to see another human and I tried to “will” myself even closer, but I seemed to be stuck in that dozen or so meters away from him. With pleading eyes, I watched this young, olive-skinned, dark-haired man peer down at me. He had a kind, but very sad smile. He wasn’t very good-looking (Isaiah 53:2); as a matter of fact, I remember thinking he was nobody I ever wanted to date. (Obviously, I still had my limited, carnal mindset at that point!)
Be that as it may, I was no longer alone, and he served as company for me in this huge, strange void, and that is all that mattered to me at that point in time.
“Help me!” I called out to him, somehow communicating via thought waves.
He answered in a foreign language I couldn’t understand (presumably Hebrew or Aramaic since Yeshua was an Israeli Jew … which I didn’t know at the time because I didn’t know who this man was); and much of what he said, was ripped from his lips by the awful howling winds that seemed to grow in ferocity. I remember being so disappointed in the knowledge that he had the power to pull me up and out of this strange and scary nothingness, yet he seemed hesitant to do so.
(Now, of course, I understand that he didn’t help me back then because I didn’t know him. I had no clue that he was the “gate” to the Father [John 14:6]. At that time, I had never actually confessed YHWH as ELOHIM or Yeshua as His Mashyiach! [Genesis 1; Psalm 103:8-10; see also Exodus 34:6, 7; Matthew 7:7:13–21; Matthew 18:3; John 3:16; Acts 4:12; 1 John 1:9; 1 John 5:13; Romans 3:23, 6:23; 1 Cor. 15:3–4, 54–57, etc.] I knew from my foster grandmother that there was a God – but that is ALL I knew!)
Suddenly, as he continued to talk, the raucous winds shifted and I was blown helplessly in an opposite direction! Horrified, I tried to will myself back, but it was no use; I was completely and utterly helpless. The man briefly reached out for me, shouting something I couldn’t make out. His face reflected a mixture of anguish and sadness as he watched me float further away – but I also got the distinct impression that he (or some power behind him) was sending me away!
My eyes desperately sought his as the chasm between us widened. Soon, there was nothing I could do except to watch him recede into the distance, a silent sentinel among the stars somewhere in the middle of the universe – a human silhouette bursting with bright lights and chained energy….
Just before he completely disappeared from view, something inside me “clicked” and I recognized him! He was Jesus, that guy I had heard about, who got nailed to the cross for going around telling everybody he was the Son of God! Yes, I had heard of him through various “Bible thumpers” I’d met over the years, and also my rapist adoptive father who proclaimed to be a Christian; but other than that, I hadn’t one iota of a clue as to the history behind the cross.
Shortly thereafter I came out of the coma, and lay there, confused and feeling very HOLY for the next few days. It was an AMAZING experience, because I had never been “holy” before in my entire life! But I felt SO close to “God” during that time, that I never wanted to leave that bed. I had entire conversations with Him as I lay there, waiting for all my faculties to return. I didn’t really WANT to be in this world anymore, but He refused to let me cross over because there was something He needed me to do. Something He needed me to do….
But then, “the world” soon returned and - although I truly felt as though I really had met “Jesus”, when I finally “became myself” again (feeling heavy and quite “out of place” here on earth), I began to doubt and wonder if all this hadn’t really been just a crazy, vivid dream…. (Genesis 3:1-4; John 8:44; Mark 9:24; James 1:5-8; James 1:6; Romans 10:17, etc.)
Here is the "proof” that my out of body experiences had been real:
Those thoughts, however, were forever dispelled when Goldie, my adoptive father’s girlfriend, came to visit me, and I happily blurted out, “Hey, Mom! So, when are you and Dad going to start that pig farm?”
Well, you could have heard that proverbial pin drop as she gawked at me for several long moments, in complete disbelief! When she finally found her voice, she said: “Honey, how did you know that? We haven’t told anybody, yet….”