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Those Who Know

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Painting by Rita Dolittle

I will start by saying that those people who enjoy writing know when to seize the moment and record their thoughts, and when to let them drift off into the back spaces of the mind. I was watching a Youtube video titled, “Pronounced Dead For 20 Minutes- What He Saw and How it Changed His Life Forever” (done by a person whose channel is called, Prioritize Your Life). The host is interviewing a man in his late 60`s, who at 28 years old, died on the operating table. One of his statements was, that he was hovering over the scene. Before he “went up,” he recalled a person, or being just off his periphery, (like an angel). He then goes on to describe the rest of the journey and being told, ‘It wasn`t your time yet.’ You see, I have as this man has, been there, (well, almost). I took the trip up after coming out of my body, and as he related, there was a person next to me, that asked me,
“Are you ready?” Although I was not allowed all the way in, I remember what I saw, and how I felt, being allowed to experience that, which I now hold dear. If you could now draw in to your memory banks, and pull the happiest, most glorious time you can think of, and put it in to a measurable item. Think of that (as I did), as being the size of a grain of sand. Now, multiply that by the sands on a beach. THAT WAS WHAT I WAS FEELING!
Let me take you to another scene that happened many decades ago. My brother and his wife were having
a party with many of our family members present,
and as I entered his home, I noticed a picture hanging on the wall. It looked to have an inside out funnel cloud, with colorful shapes heading toward a bright lighted area in the center. When I saw this, I told the gathering, “I know what that is.” My sister in law asked, and I told her when I died (briefly) I saw what was painted there, but even the painting could not do it full justice. As I was speaking, her mother, (the one that painted the scene) came out of another room. She overheard the conversation, and then said,”I made the trip just as you did and had to try to put it on canvas.” It seems to me that her gift was that she painted, and tried to relay the experience through her brushes. I am now attempting to use pen, paper, (and media) to relate this to you all. As my sister-in-law`s mother, Rita mentioned at the time,
(and I must paraphrase this quote, as it was so long ago) “There were no colors that I could mix together to portray the beautiful things I saw.” I can tell you now, that there is nothing I can write to you, expressing the awesome beauty, wonder, and love, experienced when it happened to me. Looking back at that time in my life, I believe God allowed me to see what I saw, but did not let me the rest of the way in for the very reason you are reading this. I must lead YOUR MIND to envision, (or imagine) what it will be like when you whom God knows, eventually draw your last breath. I guess that it can only be remembered… and shared by… Those who know!

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Steve Goodwin is a recently retired Christian conservative veteran (of the U.S. Army 82nd Airborne Division), who still feels that "duty to country" did not end when the military uniform got hung up. He and his wife Cecelia live on the edge of a beautifully wooded tract of land just south of the bypass, and are involved in not only church activities, but also attend school board meetings and local community action events as well.