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Some accounts of near-death experiences

Last updated on: June 24, 2024 at 1:22 pm   by Dan Peterson

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Some accounts of near-death experiences 2024-06-24T13:22:08-06:00 Dan Peterson

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Knaphus Moroni

Torleif Knaphus’s statue of the Angel Moroni stands atop the Hill Cumorah near Palmyra, New York.  (Wikimedia Commons public domain image)

This bit of footage, shot back in May at the foot of Torleif Knaphus’s Angel Moroni monument, which stands atop the Hill Cumorah near Palmyra, New York, somehow didn’t survive into the Final Cut of “Who Actually Saw the Gold Plates? | A Marvelous Work Episode 5.”  I can’t imagine why!

Blake does Jacob's Ladder

William Blake, “Jacob’s Ladder” (1804)   Wikimedia Commons public domain image

I want to share a few passages that I marked for my notes during a reading of Lee Nelson, Visions from Beyond the Veil (Springville, UT: Cedar Fort, 2014)

1.  Then I was aware that I was not alone.  People were gathering around me and welcoming me.  I felt surrounded by so much love.  They were dressed in white and some of them embraced me.  I felt so happy.  I didn’t know who the people were, but I felt like I knew them and they knew me.  Together we began moving toward a white light.

“No, no, she has to go back,” said a voice, stopping our progress toward the light.

“No, I don’t want to go back,” I protested.

“You must return.”  The voice was strong but not loud, the kind of voice you don’t argue with.  Three times it told me I must return.

I could see my body again in the bedroom.  I saw my mother return from the neighbors, climb the stairs, and go over to me on the bed.  She took my hand, presumably to check my pulse.  Then she dropped my arm back on the bed.  She turned briefly toward the window.  (133)

2.  Suddenly all the pain was back again, and I was hurting and crying.  Mother hurried back to my bed.  (133)

3.  One night as I was sleeping, I became aware that I was floating about a foot above the bed.  I was still lying in a prone position, but above the covers.

I was aware of many colors in the room—beautiful pastel colors like had never seen before.  [Her college-age daughter, who had been killed instantly in an accident on the Pennsylvania Turnpike in 1978] Janill was standing in the doorway, smiling at me.  She was different in that she too was very colorful, bathed in pastel shades of light.  She was aglow with light, and her happiness was obvious.

I don’t remember going to her.  All I know is that all of a sudden I was with her.  We hugged each other.  We were both standing above the floor.  Nothing was said, but somehow I knew she had come to let me know she was happy and that everything would be all right.

I felt extremely happy and peaceful.  A feeling of total acceptance and forgiveness came over me.  I knew without a shadow of a doubt that the accident was no one’s fault.  It had just happened.  I told her that I loved her and missed her.  Then we both said good-bye.

When I awoke, I was in bed again.  I remember thinking how heavy my body felt.  I awakened my husband and told him what had happened.  We prayed together, and I fell asleep again.  The next thing I knew, I was floating above the bed, and the exact same thing happened again.

I am grateful to my Father in Heaven for allowing that short visit from beyond the veil.  I will always remember the feelings of love and peace I felt that night.  I know that my mortal eyes could never have seen her, but only my spiritual eyes.  My life was changed forever.  (136-137)

Her daughter had died of a brain tumor at the age of five:

4.  Then my eyes were opened to a most glorious sight—a place, I think.  Although I didn’t actually see anything, I felt the presence of this. Place and the presence of a beautiful young lady.  She wore a long, flowing gown and was radiant with love, beauty, and peace.  She approached me and said, “I love you, Mother.”  Her warm love embraced me.  My Stephanie.  She was released from her body and was now a beautiful, mature spirit.  Once again, I felt the peace of our Savior’s love, and I was able to rest that night.  (159)

5.  Suddenly, one of the cracks in the wall in front of me started opening up.  Light from the widening crack filled the room.  Inside the crack, I could see stairs leading upward.

I felt myself moving way from my body toward the stairs.  The pain was gone.  The sickness was gone.  I felt so good.  I was on the stairs, and it was easy to move upward, but I looked back.

I could see my mother sitting by my body.  My fingernails were black.  My body wasn’t moving.  Mother called for the nurse.  They were both leaning over me.  A doctor came and gave me oxygen.

Two men in dark suits soon entered the room and gave me a blessing.  They were strangers.  The one who was praying said that the adversary was seeking to destroy me because of my ability to do good.  He rebuked Satan and promised me I would live to be a mother in Zion.

I knew I had to go back, but I didn’t want to.

Eventually, I moved toward my body and willed myself to reenter it.

I’ll never forget the horrible pain as I did so.  It was awful.  (162-163)

6.  I remember lying on the couch in the living room when the doctor arrived.  There were a lot of people in the room.  I was surprised to see my father, who had died the year before in September.  I remember wondering why nobody said anything about him being there.

When neighbors came to administer to me, Dad was in the circle when they laid their hands on my head for the blessing.  Nobody else seemed to notice him.

“Fay, you have to change your ways,” Dad said to me when they finished the blessing.  “You are not living your religion.  You’ve got little kids and you’ve got to be more righteous.”  (163-164)

7.  Suddenly, my body was tingling all over.  It felt like someone was pulling on me.  My spirit began to come out of my body, starting at the head, and then working down to my feet.  I remember slowly rising above my body and [166] turning over so I could look down at myself.  The pain and sickness were gone.  I felt happy.  I felt good.

I could see the open incision where the doctors had started to operate on me.  The doctors were moving about quickly.  One began to pound on my chest.  A nurse was crying.

I turned to an upright position and returned to the floor.  I walked behind the doctors, watching them work on me.

“Come to me,” someone called out to me.  I looked across the room where a man in a long, white robe was beckoning to me.  I walked over to him.

“Look,” he said, pointing to my body on the operating table.

“What are they doing?” I asked.

“Trying to revive you,” he said.

“What’s that?” I asked, seeing the doctors were trying to cover my face with something.

“An oxygen mask,” he said.  Then he took my hand and told me he was taking me home.  I refused to go with him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I want to stay,” I said.

“Why?” he asked.

“Mother needs me,” I answered.  I was concerned about my brothers too.  The man told me things about my mother.  He said she didn’t mean to hurt me when she became angry and that she loved me very much.

“Do you want to see somebody?” the man asked.

“Yes,” I said.

He took me by the hand and led me to another man who was sitting in a chair.  He was wearing a white robe [167] too.  The man I was with picked me up and handed me to the man in the chair, who held me and talked to me.  I can’t remember the words, but I can remember the love I felt.  I knew he loved me with a perfect love.  He had white hair, but I couldn’t see his face.

Eventually he handed me back to the messenger, who took me by the hand and led me away.

“Look,” he said, pointing to two young men in dark suits.  He said someday I would join the Lord’s Church and these two young men would teaching me the gospel.

“Be good,” were the messenger’s last words as he led me back to the operating table.

The next thing I remember was seeing my mother come into my room the following morning.  When I told her I saw the doctors placing the oxygen mask over my face, she told me I hadn’t seen any such thing.  I didn’t say any more.  Later I heard one of the doctors telling my father that I had almost died.  (165-167)

To me, these accounts are utterly fascinating.  I hope that you enjoy them, too.

 

 

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