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My Trip to
Heaven The following story tells about my trip into Heaven in brief. You can read the full account of my ascension into Heaven as well as what happened before and what has happened afterwards by reading my book, "Death, Heaven and Back: The True Story of One Man's Death and Resurrection." You can also purchase the DVD (for $12) made of my testimony by going to the Home Page of Deeper Life Fellowship East (Click Here). Unlike
many, many people who have had a near death or death experience, I did not
see a ‘light at the end of the tunnel.’
Instead, my memories of Heaven begin with my being on a road, flanked
by three angels (one on either side and one in behind me).
People I speak with often ask me if the angels were tall?
As I tell them, ‘tall’ is a relative term and because I’m so
short (I used to be 5’ 3” before I lost all my hair), almost everyone is
tall to me. But, in all
seriousness, the angels were rather tall, maybe 6’ 5” to 7’ tall.
So, while they were tall, they weren’t ‘Goliath’ tall.
I noted that all four of us were wearing traditional flowing white
robes (traditional in the sense of what you might have seen people wearing
around the first century, not the flimsy, silky type of robe we often see
Jesus depicted in), although mine was slightly whiter or brighter than those
of the angels around me. As I said, I was immediately transported into Heaven. The road upon which we stood was the most beautiful pathway I’ve ever imagined. It was translucent gold. Now, when I say ‘translucent’ I really mean translucent. It was a road of transparent, see-through gold and there was light shining up through it in a myriad of colors. There was a brilliant, brilliant light all around us – all around me and everything else. In fact, the word I choose to use to describe my entire time in Heaven is brilliant! Everything that I saw and experienced felt more real than anything I’ve ever known her on earth. Again, the light I was bathed in seemed to permeate everything to such an extent that all I saw almost glowed from it. Yet, the light, being ever so bright, didn’t hurt my eyes. As I walked with my escort of angels I remember looking behind them and me and towards our feet. I’m fairly certain I did this to see if there were any shadows. There weren’t. None at all. No shadows of any type, anywhere that I could see. None under us, none behind us or in front of us, none around the trees or the flowers that lined the sides of the road. Also, the light didn’t seem to have any particular source. What I mean is that there was no sun or other basis of light from which it was emanating. So, I have to conclude that God was the source of the light! While on this road, I also experienced something that I’ve rarely experienced here on earth and that was… peace. Peace that is literally beyond human comprehension. If there is anything that I truly long for on this side of Heaven it’s this feeling of peace. I now know what it’s like to experience a deep, abiding sense of peace and I want to enter into that presence of mind again. My wife asked me if I had been aware of people here on earth (those that were praying for me, herself and my children) and, I have to say, I was. I knew that I had left behind my wife and children and mother and brothers and sisters but it was okay. I knew, in my heart of hearts, that everything was going to be all right. That everything was all right because I was in Heaven. I was at peace with everything. Others have asked me if I was aware of people who were not in Heaven (i.e., those that were in Hell). Again, the answer is Yes. But, again, it was okay. This is perhaps the most difficult thing that I have to try and explain – how one cannot feel remorse or sadness for people (even some of my own family members) who are in Hell. Still, it’s true. Not to sound callous or cavalier (which I’d never be concerning the eternal destination of anyone), but I knew, in my heart of hearts, that the reason they were in Hell was because they’d made a conscious decision not to accept Jesus as their personal Lord and Savior. As such, it wasn’t that Jesus (God) had sent them there because of anything they’d done (i.e., sin) but because they chose not to accept the one Person who could and would have pardoned them. I now know what it means to have all tears of sadness wiped away because, for the briefest of moments my understanding what like that of the mind of Christ. I understood the ramifications of our decisions here on Earth and their eternal consequences. Today, those I grieve for are those who (like my step-brother), who have not accepted Jesus as their personal Savior and, as such, are going to miss out on the glories of Heaven. It is for these people I weep. But, after a person has died, it is too late. Yet, when I was in Heaven, my soul was absolutely tranquil but I was very excited at the same time. How could I have been anything but excited? I was in the ‘other country,’ the abiding place of my Lord and Savior. One of the most enduring memories I have is of the breeze and the smell of Heaven. While walking along the road I felt the most wonderful breeze – not too warm or too chilly or too hard – but it was steady and constant. And, on that breeze, there was a smell unlike anything I can describe. It was so very, very sweet though not overpowering. I’ve been asked to attempt a description of what I smelled that day and the closest I can come to is this: If you’ve ever been to a fruit orchard when the trees are in full blossom and you’ve smelled the sweetness of the fruit trees wafting in the air, you’ll have some pale idea of the deliciously delicate, sweet smell I smelled. Come to think of it, since there were trees that lined the road on which I was walking and because we’re told that there are fruit trees in Heaven, the smell may have come from them. Whatever the source, I’ll never forget the breeze or the smell. Now the road on which we were walking was wide and long. Very wide and very long and I was the only person on it. I mention this fact because I wondered why I was the only one on the road at that moment. I remember thinking that I certainly couldn’t have been the only person to have died that day or even that hour. Honestly, I didn’t give it much thought at the time because I was excited about getting into the city I saw at the end of the road. But, afterwards, when I was telling this story to my wife, I did begin to think about whether or not it made sense that I would have been the only person on the road at that time. I’ve decided that if what I experienced was real and I certainly believe it was, that I had crossed over into eternity. The reason this point is important is because in eternity, time has no meaning. So, since we’re told that each person will have to make a personal account of his or her actions to God, why couldn’t it be that each person who goes to Heaven will get his or her own time on the same road? As I said, I didn’t take any time to really contemplate these types of questions while I was in Heaven because they simply didn’t matter and because I wanted to reach the Heavenly city I saw in the distance. Unlike Brother Don Piper, I didn’t see pearly gates of any type. It could have been that I was already past them at the time my memory begins or it might simply be that I didn’t notice them (although I think that giant pearls or even pearlescent gates would be terribly difficult to miss). But, what I did see was a wonderfully large building amongst other relatively small homes. I think that the building captivated my attention so much because of its size. Huge doesn’t even come close to describing it. The height and breadth of the building was such that I don’t remember being able to see the end to its top or sides. What I do remember though was that in the building I saw arched windows (very similar to the Spanish-style windows we see in some of the more elegant homes) and, as I walked nearer and nearer to the entrance of the city, people were gathering at the windows and looking out towards me. There was also a massive amount of people gathering at the entrance of the city waiting for me to get there. The most unforgettable and remarkable thing that I remember from my entire trip to Heaven was the feeling that I got from the people who were waiting for me to enter into the city. The only way I can describe what I ‘felt’ is as a ‘pressure,’ but I know and knew exactly what it was that the people were feeling. They were giddy; absolutely excited about the fact that I was coming to join them and that I was going to be able to spend the rest of eternity with Christ. The feeling was palpable. The pressure was tangible. It was as real as anything I’ve ever experienced before in my life and I will never forget it. These people, most of whom I’m convinced that I did not know, were happy about me being there with them. Now that’s what I call a wonderful welcoming committee! As I came closer to the entrance of the city, which we know as New Jerusalem, I noticed that not everyone was dressed the way I was. While the angels and I were dressed in traditional white robes (traditional in the sense of the robes worn by people around the 1st century A.D. – not the silky, flimsy robes we often see Jesus depicted as wearing), some of the people I saw were dressed in what I would consider run-of-the-mill, everyday clothes while others did have on white robes like mine. I’ve been asked what I believe the significance of the white robes are and I truly have no clue. Maybe everyone shows up in white robes and then we get a chance to change once we’re ‘at home.’ Who knows? I don’t. But, again, I’m not concerned about it and I don’t think anyone else should be either. For whatever reason, I don’t remember ever going very far into New Jerusalem itself. What I do remember is that I was asked by someone (I have a strong feeling that it was either the Holy Spirit or Jesus Himself) if I wanted to return to earth or stay. I said ‘Yes,’ I wanted to return to earth. At this point I must confess that the reason I chose to return was because of my wife; not my children, as much as I love them. I knew that everyone would be able to get along well enough without me, God would see to that, but I also knew that my wife truly needed me back. Whereas my children, a little girl who was four at the time and my son, an eight-year old, would eventually either forget me or would adapt fairly quickly to my absence, I sensed, probably from all the prayers being prayed on her behalf, that Dawn would be devastated without me. So, I chose to return to earth because of my wife. When I first told Dawn this, she confessed to me that while I was in a coma she had told me that it was “okay if I needed to go be with Jesus.” Then she asked me if I was sad about returning to her. I told her, “No, I’m not sad at all. It’s what I wanted to do and it was my decision.” But, as I’ve told everyone who has heard this story, not a single day goes by when I don’t think about Heaven and all of its wonders. Just before I left Heaven, I remember, as clear as day, that a woman I had never met before (she had died some 30 years before) came through the crowd of people and I immediately knew who she was. She hugged me and smiled and gave me a message for someone very close to me. I mention this because I want everyone who reads this to know that it’s true what the Bible says “For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known.”
For the 'rest of the story,' please see the book, Death, Heaven and Back: The True Story of One Man's Death and Resurrection by Rev. Lonnie Honeycutt (RevLon).
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