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Larry Isree has a gift….
I saw my friends die yesterday, one by one.
I beheld the events that led to their death. I must admit, I don’t read the Bible nor attend church regularly. Mistakes are common to me. My bad outweighs my good, so I don’t understand why this… whatever this is … happened to me.
My mother always told me the book of Revelations speaks about Heaven and Hell. I didn’t go to church, but I heard every sermon her pastor preached at least three times a week. I remember the last words she said to me while laying on her deathbed at St. Vincent Hospital. She looked at me through her hazel eyes and said, “Larry, one day the Lord is going to get your attention. I’ve already prayed for you, so I’ll know everything will be all right.” I never thought those words would be the last time I’d hear and see my mother alive. I’m all alone—my father and mother have passed, no brothers, no sisters, and the nearest relative is five hundred miles way.
I still don’t understand everything but yesterday my mother’s prayer came to pass. I still have the first Bible she gave me. Maybe it’s time to blow the dust off that Bible and crack it open.
It all seems surreal. I didn’t believe in Hell, but now I know it’s real. If I close my eyes, I can still see my friends burning in the flames of Hell. The stench of burnt sulfur was everywhere. I couldn’t stop gagging. Hideous creatures, of all shapes and sizes, viciously attacked their bodies nonstop like a lion lavishing a wounded gazelle. It all looked like a scene from a horror movie or better yet one of those gruesome Animal Planet documentaries about lions.
Please don’t look at me like I’m crazy. Maybe I am crazy. I don’t know what to think. Ok, let me try to explain what happened. A few weeks ago Joey Johnson died in a terrible accident. His little brother Thomas wanted to clear his mind, so he arranged a little outing with a few of his friends. I waited at my home for his arrival. My next few sentences may sound weird, but I’m going to give it to you straight. As I sat there, soft voices rang in my drums. I wasn’t spooked, but curious because those voices sounded like my parents. When I rose from the sofa, a bright light appeared and slowly expanded within the room. In the midst of the light I saw a man-like figure. Then, like a mighty rushing wind, a voice said, “Come up hither. I want to show you a few things.” From that moment, it was as if I was being hurled pass several horrible events. When the last person died in my vision, a bright light enclosed me again.
When I opened my eyes, I was back at the church, sitting on the pew. Before I could think, I jumped up and screamed … I mean yelled. Everyone probably assumed I was caught up in the service because Pastor Wellington and the congregation glanced in my direction. I quickly threw a smile their way and waved my hand. After a few minutes of gut-wrenching gazes, I slowly sat back down.
I closed my eyes and took in short increments of air, hoping to settle my nerves. My heart pounded like a marching band. Once the sound of my heart left my eardrums, I slowly glanced around the church and saw all of my friends sitting on the pews alive! Just a few minutes ago they were all suffering in the pits of Hell and now they’re alive! Tears streamed down my face like a running facet. Then ….