Ranelle
Wallace's Life Review
At that moment I
was sucked into a narrow tube, and I began
flying through it feet first. The tube was
extremely tight, and I became more
frightened because it almost felt like my
body was being sucked inside out. My speed
was tremendous - indescribable. Nothing on
Earth has ever gone that fast, nothing
could. It felt as if I were whizzing past
galaxies, but the colors and lights were
right next to me, almost brushing against
me, and my fears mounted.
Then I heard
voices. It seemed people were traveling
beside me somehow, although there was no
room for them. I became aware of one person
near me who was alone and not speaking. I
couldn't see anyone; I just knew the person
was there.
The voices
stopped and a brief scene flashed before me.
A series of pictures, words, ideas,
understanding. It was a scene from my life.
It flashed before me with incredible
rapidity, and I understood it completely and
learned from it. Another scene came, and
another, and another, and I was seeing my
entire life, every second of it. And I
didn't just understand the events; I relived
them. I was that person again, doing those
things to my mother, or saying those words
to my father or brothers or sisters, and I
knew why, for the first time, I had done
them or said them. Entirety does not
describe the fullness of this review. It
included knowledge about myself, that all
the books in the world couldn't contain. I
understood every reason for everything I did
in my life. And I also understood the impact
I had on others.
A part of me
began to anticipate certain events, things
in my life I would dread seeing again. But
most of them didn't show up, and I
understood that I had taken responsibility
for these actions and had repented of
them. I saw myself repenting of them,
sincerely wanting God to remove the weight
and guilt of those terrible actions. And He
had. I marveled at His sublime love and that
my misdeeds could be forgiven and removed so
easily. But then I saw other scenes that I
hadn't anticipated, things that were just as
awful. I saw them in horrible detail and
watched the impact they had on others. I saw
that I had let many people down in my life.
I had made commitments to friends and family
that I had just let ride until they were
irreversibly unfulfilled. People had
depended on me, and I had said, I'm too busy
or it's not my problem, and just let it go.
My cavalier attitude had caused real pain
and heartache in others, pain I had never
known about.
I was shown a
friend who I knew had suffered terribly in
her life. She lived in a beautiful,
spiritual world before she came to this
life, and she had been confused and hesitant
about coming here at all. But she was given
the promise of good parents, family members,
and friends, and she agreed to come for the
experience and growth this life would afford
her. I was shown that I was one of the key
friends who had been given to her as a guide
and help. Then I saw my own personal follies
and uncaring attitudes. I saw how these had
combined to mislead my friend and propel her
into new mistakes and grief.
I had messed up
my own life, not really caring about the
consequences, and in so doing had hurt her
as well. If I had followed through on my
obligations to myself and others, she would
have lived an easier and more productive
life. Until that moment I had never realized
that ignoring responsibilities was a sin.
What was
happening? Why was I seeing all this? My
mind spun with questions.
Next, I saw a
woman whom I had been asked by our local
church leader to visit periodically. I was
just to check up on her and see if she
needed any help. I knew the woman quite well
but was afraid of her constant pessimism and
negativity. She was locally renowned for her
bitterness. I didn't think I could handle
the depressing influence she would have on
me, so I never went to see her. Not once. I
saw now that the opportunity to visit her
had been orchestrated by Higher Powers, that
I had been just the person she needed at
that time. She didn't know it, and I didn't
know it, but I had let her down. Now I lived
her sadness and felt her disappointment and
knew I was a cause of it. I had fallen
through on a special mission to her, a
responsibility that would have strengthened
me over time. I had retreated from an
opportunity for growth, both for me and for
her, because I was not caring enough to
fight through my petty fears and laziness.
But the reasons didn't matter; I could see
that, even now, she was living in sadness
and bitterness, living through it just as I
now experienced it, and there was nothing I
could do to go back and help.
I re-experienced
myself doing good things, but they were
fewer and less significant than I had
thought. Most of the great things I thought
I had done were almost irrelevant. I had
done them for myself. I had served people
when it served me to do so. I had founded my
charity on conditions of repayment, even if
the repayment was merely a stroke to my
ego. Some people had been helped, however,
by my small acts of kindness, a smile, a
kind word, little things I had long since
forgotten. I saw that people were happier
because of my actions and in turn were
kinder to others. I saw that I had sent out
waves of goodness and hope and love when I
had only meant to smile or to help in a
small way. But I was disappointed at how few
of these incidents there were. I had not
helped as many people as I thought.
As the review of
my life came to an end I was in agony. I saw
everything I had ever done in vivid,
immediate detail - the bad things, haunting
and terrifying in their finality, and the
good things, ringing with greater reward and
happiness than I had ever imagined. But in
the end I was found wanting. I found myself
wanting. Nobody was there to judge me.
Nobody had to be. I wanted to melt in the
agony of self-indictment. The fires of
remorse began to consume me, but there was
nothing I could do.
A dot of light
appeared far off in front of me. It was just
a pinpoint, a tiny speck in the distance,
but its brilliance distinguished it from all
other lights around me and I instinctively
pressed towards it. Emanating from it was a
love and hope and peace that my soul
hungered for. I wanted, I needed this
brilliant, radiant light. The black tube
took the shape of a tunnel now, opening up
as I neared its end. The light burst forth
before me, filling everything with
brightness, and I was coming upon it
impossibly fast. Oh, my gosh, I thought,
it's brighter than the sun. It'll blind me!
It'll kill me!
I remembered my
burns from the plane crash and was afraid
they would ignite again in this radiance.
But I couldn't stop myself. I was drawn to
the light by forces I could not control, so
I shut my eyes against my impending
destruction. But my eyes wouldn't shut. They
felt shut - but somehow I could still
see. And then I was in the light.
Like a nuclear
explosion, the light pierced me. Every
particle of me was shot through with
blinding, brilliant light, and I had a
feeling of transparency.
My skin didn't
burn. My eyes still saw. I floated in this
light, bathed in it, and the love that
surrounded me and filled me was sweeter and
finer than anything I had ever felt. I was
changed by it, refined, rarified, made
pure. I basked in its sweetness, and the
traumas of the past were far behind me,
forgotten and transformed by peace. Then an
image appeared in the distance.
A woman walked
toward me dressed in white. Her hair was
white, and her face shone with light. I had
no fear of her; the love I felt allowed no
fear. She came forward and stood immediately
before me. Then she smiled, and I loved her
smile. It filled me with even greater love,
and I wanted to know her. She spoke my name.
"RaNelle."
But her lips
didn't move. Her smile never changed and my
first thought was "Wow, what a trick! Her
lips didn't move."
"RaNelle," she
said again, and I realized her voice sounded
in my mind and not in my ears. How could
this be?
"RaNelle," she
was more insistent. "It's Grandma."
And the moment
she said this, I recognized her. She was my
mother's mother. But she looked different
than I had remembered. She was full and
rounded and vibrant. She appeared to be
about twenty-five years old, but her hair
was glorious white, and everything about her
was radiantly beautiful. Her body was
glorious, and I began to understand why I
hadn't recognized her. She had been frail
and sick all the years I had known her. Then
the realization hit me.
Grandma was dead;
she had died a couple of years before. And I
thought, if she's dead, then what am I doing
here?
"Oh, I'm dead."
The thought came
out of me like spoken words, though I hadn't
moved my mouth.
Now everything
fit. The colorful lights, the life review,
and now this light of glorious love, all of
it naturally occurred as my life continued
in this next world. This definitely wasn't
some dream or some drug-induced vision. I
was more keenly aware and alive now than I
had ever been in my body. I immediately
accepted this, and wanted to know where
everybody was.
Grandma giggled.
Her lips didn't move, but her spirit
giggled.
Aren't people
supposed to meet me when I die?" I
asked. "Aren't there supposed to be people
singing hallelujah and coming up to hug me
and saying, ‘Welcome'?"
She giggled
again, and I thought it was the most
delightful giggle I had ever heard.
"Well," she said,
"everybody is quite busy. Come on. You have
a lot to see," and she reached out for my
hand.
But I
thought, "Wait, what about Jim?"
Jim was a friend
who had been killed in an automobile
accident several months earlier. If Grandma
was here, maybe she could tell me what
happened to him.
"What about Jim?"
I said again, and then I saw him in the
distance, walking toward us.
Instantly I
wanted to run and embrace him, but my
grandmother put out her arm and said, "No,
you cannot."
I was startled.
There was a power in her words, and I knew I
couldn't oppose them.
"Why not?" I
asked.
"Because of the
way he lived his life," she said.
He had come
closer now and had stopped ten or twelve
feet away. He was dressed in jeans and a
blue shirt that was unbuttoned to mid-chest.
This was how he
normally wore his shirts on Earth, but I
thought, my goodness, that's risqué. Do they
let you dress like that in heaven?
He smiled, and I
could feel his happiness. Although he didn't
possess the same kind of light or power that
my grandmother did, he seemed content. He
gave me a message to give to his mother,
asking that I tell her to stop grieving over
his death, to let her know that he was happy
and progressing.
He explained that
he had made certain decisions in life that
had hindered his growth on Earth. He had
made the decisions knowing they were wrong,
and now he was willing to accept their
consequences. When he was thrown from the
van that he and his wife and a friend had
been in, his head had hit a rock, and he had
been killed instantly. When he got to the
other side, he was given a choice to stay in
the spirit or return to Earth. He could see
that his growth on Earth had come to a stop
and that if he returned he might lose even
that light which he had gained. So he chose
to stay.
He asked me to
explain this to his mother, and I said I
would, not knowing how I would accomplish it
since I had no thought of going back
myself. Then he said that he had a lot of
work waiting for him, and he turned and
left. I could tell that he was very busy,
very engaged in matters that were vital to
him, that would help him, though I didn't
know what they were.
I looked at my
grandmother and asked why she had prevented
me from embracing him. She explained that
this was a part his of "damnation".
I was taken
aback.
"The powers we
are given," she explained, "are self-given.
We grow by the force of our desires to
learn, to love, to accept things by faith
that we cannot prove. Our ability to accept
truth, to live by it, governs our progress
in the spirit, and it determines the degree
of light we possess. Nobody forces light and
truth upon us, and nobody takes it away
unless we let them. We are self-governed and
self-judged. We have total agency. Jim
decided to limit his growth on Earth by
rejecting things he knew were true. He hurt
himself and others by using and selling
drugs. Some of the people were hurt
severely. He had various reasons for turning
to drugs but the fact remains that he knew
these things were wrong. He chose darkness
over light often enough that he would not
choose light again. And, now, to the degree
that he became spiritually dark, he is
consigned to a similar degree of darkness -
or lack of light - here in the spirit. Yet
he still has agency. He can grow. He can
still find all the joy he is willing to
accept, all that he is capable of
receiving. But he knows that he does not
have the same powers to progress and achieve
joy that others with more light have. This
is a part of damnation, because his progress
is limited. But he is choosing to grow. And
he is happy."
"The Lord never
gives more challenges in life than can be
handled," she continued, "Rather than
jeopardize someone's spiritual progression
or cause more suffering than can be endured,
he will bring that spirit home, where he or
she can continue progressing."
All of this rang
utterly true to me. She had communicated it
with lightning speed, faster than computers
can talk. It was instant and total knowing.
I found that Grandmother and I could think
on several levels at once and communicate
them all simultaneously. You can't know
something without knowing everything around
it, what causes it, what sustains
it. Knowledge dovetails in the spirit world,
each piece fitting with other pieces. Every
fact connected to it is seen instantly, in
totality. We have nothing like it on Earth.
We can't even approach it. Our knowledge and
ability to communicate is like a child's who
hasn't yet learned a language. We struggle
to communicate, but we don't possess the
tools. We're like little children.
My grandmother
held out her hand and said, "Come quickly."
I reached out to
take it and stopped.
"Wow," I
said. "Look at my hand."
My hand was
clear, like transparent gel, but there was
light coursing through it like clear blood.
But, the light didn't run in irregular
patterns as it would in veins; rather, the
light shot through my hands like rays or
beams. My whole hand sparkled with light. I
looked down and saw that my feet also
sparkled with light. And I noticed again
that they weren't burned. My feet and hands
were perfect and whole. They radiated this
glistening, beaming light, and I looked at
my grandmother and saw that her light was
brighter than mine. Every part of her was
more brilliant. Even her dress was glowing
white. And I recognized the dress. It was
the dress that she had been buried in. My
mother had bought it for her funeral. I
thought about what Jim had been wearing, and
I understood that people there wear what
they want to wear. They wear what they're
comfortable in, and I knew that my
grandmother must have loved this dress my
mother bought for her. Although she had
never worn it in life, Grandma was wearing
it now, and she was radiant.
Moments later we
were walking, holding hands, and the most
beautiful panorama I had ever beheld opened
before us.
Meeting Her
Future Son
A garden cannot
exist on Earth like the one I saw. I had
been in gardens in California that had taken
my breath away, but they were stuck into
insignificance by the scene before me now.
Here was an endless vista of grass rolling
away into shining, radiant hills. We have
never seen green in our world like the deep,
shimmering green of the grass that grew
there. Every blade was crisp, strong, and
charged with light. Every blade was unique
and perfect and seemed to welcome me into
this miraculous place.
And the whole
garden was singing. The flowers, grass,
trees, and other plants filled this place
with glorious tones and rhythms and
melodies; yet I didn't hear the music
itself. I could feel it somehow on a level
beyond my hearing. As my grandmother and I
stopped a moment to marvel at the
magnificent scene, I said to myself,
"Everything here seems to be singing," which
was woefully inadequate to describe what I
felt. We simply don't have language that
adequately communicates the beauty of that
world.
I noticed
something unusual about the flowers near us.
My grandmother waved her arm and, without
speaking, commanded them to come to her.
Although it was a command, the flowers took
joy in obeying her. They floated through the
air and came to a stop, suspended within the
circle of her arms. The bouquet was alive.
Each blossom was able to communicate, react,
and actually enlighten others near it.
"Grandma," I
said, "they have no stems."
"Why should they
have stems?" she said. "Flowers on Earth
need stems to receive nourishment, to grow
to their fullest potential. Everything God
has made is spiritual and is designed to
grow towards it own spiritual potential. A
flower reaches its fullness in the
blossom. Here everything exists in its
fullest form. These flowers have no need of
stems."
"But they just
float."
"Should they
fall? Everything here is perfect." She took
one of the flowers and handed it to
me. "Isn't that beautiful?" she said.
The whole blossom
was filled with various shades of light, and
its beauty was incredible. Then the flower
became part of me. Its soul merged with
mine. It experienced everything I was doing,
or had done before. It was acutely aware of
me, and at the same time it changed me with
its delicate spirit, with its own existence
and life. It affected my feelings, my
thoughts, my identity. It was me. I was
it. The joy that came from this union was
more pervasive and delicious and fulfilling
than any I had known until that moment, and
I wanted to cry. The scriptures say that one
day all things shall be as one. That
statement has great power for me now.
My grandmother
commanded the flowers to return, and they
floated gently back to their places just
above the ground. The one in my hands also
returned, but its essence remained with me.
"All this comes
from God, and the power to sustain it comes
from him. It is the power of his love. Just
as the plant life on Earth needs soil,
water, and light for nourishment, spiritual
life needs love. All creation springs from
God's love, and everything he creates has
the capacity to love in turn. Light, truth,
and life are all created in love and are
sustained by love. God gives it love. We
give it love. You give it love. And thus
creation grows. And, RaNelle," she said, "I
love you!"
As she said the
words, I felt her love charge into my being,
filling me with incredible warmth and joy.
This was life. This was true existence.
There had been nothing like it on Earth. I
felt the plants loving me, the sky, the
fragrances, everything. And as I received my
grandmother's words and this love, I knew
that now I would be responsible to increase
and heighten all love around me, whatever my
circumstances. She was teaching me love, its
definition, its extent and power, not just
so I could take pleasure in receiving it,
but so I could express it to others. I was
being filled with love in order to become a
source of love.
My grandmother
took my hand, and as we walked through the
garden she explained some of the basic
purposes of our life on Earth, the need to
live the golden rule, the need to help
others, the necessity of a savior, the need
to read scriptures and have faith, and I
said, "Grandma, I already know this; I
learned it all in Sunday school. Why are you
teaching it to me again."
She spoke simply,
"It is within the simple principles of the
gospel that the mysteries of heaven are
found."
What was she
saying? I couldn't see any mysteries in her
words. I felt her immense love, but I could
see no purpose in teaching me principles
that had come clear to me years before. Yet
she continued, reiterating the importance of
basic goodness, religion, the power of
repentance, things anybody can learn in the
Bible. I listened, my frustration growing as
we walked up the side of a hill. We came to
the top, and I said, "Grandma, I know all
that. I really do. Teach me more."
"You're not
ready."
"Yes, I am,
Grandma. I'm ready for much more."
"No, you don't
believe the basics yet. You lack faith."
"What is it I
don't believe? How do I lack faith?"
Oh, but she knew
me. She knew me better than I could have
imagined. As we stood on the bluff
overlooking a small valley, I saw a scene
that changed me forever. The scene was
sacred beyond words, beyond expression, and
those who have witnessed it keep it hidden
in their hearts. I saw that I had indeed
lacked faith, that love isn't simply a word
or an emotion; love is a power that gives
action to all around it. Love is the power
of life. This was a turning point for me,
something that allowed all of my
understanding and love to magnify, but I can
never share the details here except to say
that I know that love between people here
can be eternal. I felt Grandma beaming with
happiness. I had passed a test.
Grandma took my
hand, and we traveled quickly over the
landscape. I looked down at the ground
flying under us. We streaked like a beam of
light across this immense spiritual world
then moved upward into space, traveling even
faster. Floodgates of knowledge opened, and
truth poured into me without end or
constraint. Its source was the light and
truth all around me, and it was clarified,
or explained at my level, by my grandmother.
She gave me knowledge about God, life, the
creation of the world, and even the reaches
of eternity. The truths were comprehensive
and complete and rushed upon me in such
enormous volume that I thought my head would
explode. It was coming too fast. I wanted to
be able to absorb it, to remember it all,
but it was too much. "I can't take this!" I
said. "Stop!"
Instantly all
communication ceased and we came to a
standstill. My grandmother looked at me and
I felt her surprise. "Why are you doing
this?" she asked.
"I can't handle
all you're giving me. How can I possibly
retain it all?"
"RaNelle, don't
worry about it," she said to me. "Let go of
the fear. Don't doubt yourself. You will
recall things as you need them, and they
will be brought to your memory by the
Spirit. Have faith. Believe in the power of
God."
Then I understood
what had become the greatest block to my
growth in life: fear. It had plagued me all
my years, had stopped my progress, cut short
my attempts at working through
problems. Fear had limited my enjoyment of
life and it was blocking me now. When I
feared, my powers of travel, understanding
and progression became paralyzed. "Don't
fear this," I said to myself. "Let go." And
we were traveling again, knowledge pouring
into me faster than ever.
Scene after scene
of living truth passed through me: history
on Earth, history of our existence before
Earth, principles, facts, things that I had
had no conception of. I saw them. I
experienced them, literally becoming part of
each scene.
I saw that we all
stood before our Father before coming to
Earth, brothers and sisters in eternity. I
experienced this anew, just as I had
experienced it in my own pre-mortal life. I
saw that we chose to come here, to face
trials and to gain the experience of this
Earth.
I saw that we
elected to follow a savior who would redeem
us from the sins of our mortal lives and
bring us back to our Father. I felt love and
joy sweep over me again as we accepted Jesus
Christ as savior. Then we raised our right
arms, just as we might in a court of law,
and we made a sacred covenant with God that
we would do all in our power to accomplish
our missions on Earth. And I felt the
tremendous honor of making this covenant
before our Heavenly Father. We vowed, in
effect, to become partners with him in
bringing about goodness on Earth. We
promised to use our time and energies and
talents to help bring about the savior's
full purposes, to help bring our brothers
and sisters back to him and to our Father
again.
I saw that our
God knew each of us individually. He knew
our hearts, our souls, and he loved us
unconditionally. It was as though he spent
unmeasured time with each of us, counseling
us, loving us. Time did not exist; each of
us had always had a relationship with Him.
I saw that the
people standing beside me on that occasion
were people who would play an integral part
in my life on Earth. We were connected to
each other in vital ways. If one of us were
to fail in his or her mission, all of us
would be hurt in some way. If one succeeded,
we would all benefit. It was as if we were
part of a puzzle with millions of pieces. It
was put together perfectly, but if one piece
were removed, we all would be lacking and
would not be content until that piece was
found and returned to its rightful place. We
needed each other. We still do, and always
will. I believe that it is impossible here
to imagine the grief of a brother or sister
who is lost from that grand family
organization.
Many other events
of eternity passed through me. I seemed to
bathe in them, to become them. They were
infused into my soul. And I know that all
this knowledge is with me yet, some of which
I remember, such as making the covenant with
our Father, and some of which I am waiting
to remember.
I asked my
grandmother if I could visit my friends, the
ones I had cherished throughout eternity.
She said some of them were still on Earth
and that I would not be able to see them. I
asked for the others, and instantly they
came to me, beautiful people of light and
love. I remembered them and their
names. Some had already lived on Earth and
died, and some had not yet been born. All
the memories of my existence before Earth
came back to me, but I was told that I would
not retain them, that they were for this
place only. I accepted that, and my friends
came and embraced me, welcoming me back.
My friends
embraced me again and committed to stay with
me. I felt their perfect love and knew they
would never leave me. One female friend
lingered and embraced me for a long
time. She seemed bonded to me in a unique
way, but I didn't quite understand what it
was.
"You know I've
always been with you," she said. "I've never
left you. And I never will." She hung on
every word I said, and I was moved as I
recognized her passion to be with me, her
absolute devotion and love.
"I'll always be
there," she said again.
My grandmother
took my hand, and we found ourselves in the
garden again, traveling above another
beautiful hillside. Everything was
harmonious, perfect, like sweet music.
She waved her
arm, and we stopped above another high hill,
and I saw millions of people before us.
"These are the
spirits of those that have died," she said.
"They are waiting for the work to be
done. They're waiting for those on Earth to
finish their part of the work."
"Their part of
the work?" I asked. "What work?"
She showed me
that the people were organized into family
units.
"You committed
yourself to giving your time and talents on
Earth to further the work of the Lord. You
need these people, and they need you. We are
all dependent upon one another."
My life review
had already pointed out how remiss I had
been in serving others. Now I saw that there
was much I could do, sharing, sacrificing,
offering what I have. The spirits of those
who have died are waiting for each of us to
come closer to the truth, to become part of
the complete puzzle again, to recognize the
divinity of God and live in his light.
Before moving on
I saw that each person wore clothing from
his or her own time period on Earth. As with
my friend, Jim, they wore what they were
comfortable in.
Grandma waved her
arm and the ground opened before us. I
looked and saw a person lying on a hospital
bed surrounded by doctors and nurses. The
person's face was bandaged.
"You will never
be the same, RaNelle," Grandma said. "Your
face will be altered and your body filled
with pain. When you go back, you will have
years of rehabilitation ..."
"When I go
back?" I looked at her. "You expect me to go
back?"
Sudden
understanding came, and I looked at the
person on the bed. The arms were spread
wide, and both arms and hands had been
sliced in several places to allow the fluids
to drain into plastic bags.
"Is that me?" I
was horrified.
"Yes, RaNelle, it
is you. You will be badly scarred . . ."
I became frantic.
"Grandma, I'm not going back."
"Your children
need you, RaNelle."
"No, no they
don't. They're better off with someone else.
I can't give them what they need."
"It's not just
your children, RaNelle. You have things to
do - things that aren't finished yet."
"No, I'm better
off here. I don't want to go through all
that." I pointed to my body. "I refuse. I
want to stay here."
I sensed my
grandmother's awareness that time was
growing short. "You must go," she
said. "Your mission isn't complete."
"No, I'm not
returning to that body! I'm not going back."
In response, my
grandmother swept out her arm and
commanded: "Look!"
A rift opened in
the space before us, and I saw a young man
walking toward us. At first he didn't seem
to understand why he was there. Then he saw
me and looked stunned.
"Why are you
here?" he said almost in disbelief.
As I remained
silent, his disbelief changed to grief, and
he began crying. I felt his grief, his
sadness, and I too began crying.
"What's the
matter?" I asked. "Why are you crying?"
I put my arms
around him, trying to comfort him.
"Why are you
here?" he repeated.
Then I understood
that my refusal to go back to Earth was
causing his sadness. I belonged on Earth for
him, I understood, and I immediately felt
guilt for my selfishness.
His name was
Nathaniel, and he hadn't been born on Earth
yet. He said that if I didn't go back, his
own mission would be hindered. Then he
showed me his mission, and I saw that I was
to open doors for him, to help him, to
encourage him.
"I will complete
as much of my mission as I can," he
said, "but I will never fulfill it without
you. I need you."
I thought my
heart would break. I was a part of his
puzzle, and I was hurting him and everyone
he would help by refusing to go back to
Earth. I felt a great love for this young
man, and I wanted to help him in every way I
could.
"Oh, Nathaniel,"
I said, "I swear to you that I will help
you. I will go back, and I promise that I
will do everything I can to do my part. I
will open those doors for you. I will
protect and encourage you. I will give you
everything I have. Nathaniel, you will
complete your mission. I love you."
His grief was
replaced with gratitude. His face lit up,
and I saw the great spirit he was. He was
crying now with gratitude and joy.
"Thank you," he
said. "Oh, I love you."
My grandmother
took my hand and drew me away. Nathaniel
watched me leave, still smiling, and I
distinctly heard him say, "I love you, Mom."
My spirit was
thrilled, but I couldn't respond to him, as
things began happening very quickly.
"RaNelle," Grandmother said, "there is one
more thing I need to say to you. Tell
everybody that the key is love."
"The key is
love," she repeated.
"The key is
love," she said a third time.
Then she let go
of my hand, and the word love reverberated
in my mind as I left her and fell into a
deep blackness. I was crying as I left the
world of light and glory and love.
The last thing I
saw was her outstretched hand.
[RaNelle's
near-death experience ends here when she
returns to her burned body in the
hospital. About seven years later, she gave
birth to a son whom she gave the name
Nathaniel. She states that she often sees
expressions on her son's face that are
remarkably similar to the Nathaniel she met
in heaven.]
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