My Second Visit to Heaven

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The second time I visited Heaven, I did not flatline. But again I stood there, and the experience resonated just as strongly as the first time. Whether He gave me a vision or actually took my soul back there (as He can do anything), I do not know.

Perhaps my heart isn’t up to another stoppage.

After my second visit, when I opened my eyes in my bed, I heard Him still speaking just like the first time in the ambulance when He completed His sentence after I opened my eyes. It echoed, but without the bouncing effect, if that makes sense. This time, we were repeating a verse He provided to me while there, together. In a beautiful duet. Yes, two voices echoed in my bedroom, but hubby’s side of the bed remained empty—he was elsewhere in the house.

I remembered later that less than a week earlier, while watching the clouds and driving home after emotional moments praying over my sick friend, I had teary-prayed. “Won’t you give me a dream of Heaven, Jesus? Please? I miss it and you so very much.”

He honored that request.

During this second visit, He outfitted me for the journey ahead here on earth. More of this experience is written in the Heaven book, but He asks me to share a portion with you here today.

This piece of our visit highlighted the great importance of truth, especially for those who have visited Heaven and returned. It reinforced in my head and heart how truly vital it is to communicate the truth (and nothing but the truth) to you. I’ve always felt a strong commitment to that. Goodness, my conscience would not let me live with myself if I weren’t so very careful with you, in all my interactions, and in my writing.

But during this experience, He also reminded me how very important truth is to Him.

I don’t remember throwing myself on my knees, but I must have because my first memory is of Jesus sliding His hand down over my wrist as I moved my hand up to catch His, slipping under His robe sleeve in the process. I grasped His wrist, and He helped me to my feet. I lifted my eyes, gazed into His face, and saw intense love overspilling from keenly deep and magnificent eyes, a deeper turquoise than any ocean.

We stood in the large meadow (this might be outside of Heaven, as I don’t remember a gate, but I knew that it was the place where people often greet loved ones on their arrival). A large and wide tree stood tall to His right/my left, reminiscent of the 400-600 year old trees I see here in my town, but of course, much more glorious, and older, with huge roots. The leaves respectfully nodded to Him, faces/fronts downward, and small wildflowers dotted the longish grass, which didn’t seem to be all green this time. It had deep blues and some beige, too.

I loved the purples and blues I saw—also my fave colors here on earth, although they aren’t the same purples and blues. That’s just the palette-family I would place them in, with my limited earth-knowledge.