A Minister's NDE
for clarity by Ron
Over the years, I have dealt with some very interesting experiences. I know, as Christians, we should not have to rely on experiences to build our faith but I will confess that after talking to one guardian angel, countless demonic entities, and a physical attack by one that amounted to nothing these things can build one's confidence in the truths of scripture, these events have built mine. By the way, demonic entities have no power over us except that which we give them.
I must confess to you my faith is not as great as other's faith. I, too, had a DEATH experience in 1986. Someday I will take the time and write about this situation in more detail. It took me 5 years to talk about what actually happened and I shared that story, finally, at bedtime with about 30 junior high aged boys in my cabin when I served as a camp counselor and master-at-arms one summer for my church. It was at that point when I realized a few things about what happened on that 8th day in October of 1986.
When this incident happened I was Program Director and Station Engineer at a radio station in Utah. The FM transmitter I was working on electrocuted me. I was sitting on the floor and was doing a visual inspection, tracing the circuit from the step-up transformer to the full-bridge rectifier. That is when 4500 volts at a half-amp arced out and went through my metal flashlight then through my right hand which then exited back out of my left forearm. I let out an uncontrollable scream - the microphone was open (or on) at the time in the studio in the next room, so everyone listening to the radio station from western Wyoming and Montana, southern Idaho and all of northern Utah heard me scream. I did not realize I screamed until after it was finished.
I really cannot tell you how long this next description lasted, for me it seemed like a long time but, really, could have been just a few minutes. It was almost parody. I thought about those cartoons where the character is electrocuted, their arms are out stretched, and you could see their skeleton and body outline. I had an immediate sensation that I was outstretched - to the limit that my arms would go. I remember looking at my left arm, outstretched. Then I realized it was just an outline of my body. I turned my head to look straight ahead, which would be back into the transmitter. A high power FM transmitter can range in size from a small closet to a very large room. This was a 5000-watt transmitter that was the size of a small closet sitting in the center of a room.
Instead of seeing the transmitter, I was looking at the back of my head. I moved forward a little and then I was looking through my own eyes. I looked down and I saw my arms just lying at my side, I was still sitting up. I tried to lean against my left arm and, what I am sure was probably a visual illusion, my left forearm bent. I freaked a little and in doing so involuntarily leaped backwards, and now I was looking at the back of my sitting-up body.
I looked around the room, then at my arm and hand. As nearly as I could figure, I was seeing a perfect outline of my body. Like I was invisible but the outline was visible enough to see, a small distortion. I did not see anything unusual in the transmitter room. There were no bright lights; there were no other beings of any type. It was just the room and I as it was. I did not look behind me. I do recall a feeling of Peace and contentment, something of which I hardly feel, especially then. I was having fun testing my new environment and popping in and out of my body. The one profound thought for the moment was that death was painless.
It did not last very long. I felt pressure on my back, like a hand pushing me, and as the pressure increased, I felt my body again. The sensation was like that of a zipper. This feeling went all the way up to my arms to my very fingertips. I felt my legs, and then my waist, and I was gradually zipped back up with my body, the arms, and fingertips being last. I could no longer separate myself from my body.
While I was being pushed back into my body, I did not hear any words, but I felt them. Simple and direct, "You are not yet finished.” I wish I could remember exactly what the words said, but that was the gist of it.
It was not until that evening, 5 years later, at the summer camp that I first told this story. When I got to this point of being zipped back up into my body, I froze and I saw the whole situation over again, except this time I was shown who it was that had pushed me back and spoke to me. It was Yeshua Hamashia, which is Hebrew for Jesus Christ. The kids in the cabin were wondering what was wrong with me, I stood there like a mannequin staring into space seeing all this and reliving it again. I was seeing for the first time the events from a third person perspective, watching Jesus with his hand at my back pushing me back into my body, seeing him speak. I then conveyed to the kids what I was seeing and what was happening.
After I was finished, being “zipped” up, that is when the Station General Manager, Gary Girard, walked in and in his nicotine-ridden breath, which would have woken any dead person, said, "Are you alright? What happened, we heard you scream!"
I looked up at him and said, "I think I got shocked."
"Well I think we should get you to the Hospital.” I agreed and Gary helped me up. I went into the front office, sat at the receptionist’s desk, and called my fiancée, at the time, and her sister answered. As I was waiting for my fiancée to get on the phone, I realized I smelled something that had been burned. I traced the smell from my left hand that was holding the phone receiver down to the midway point of my left forearm. I looked at my jacket. Back when I was the Program Director, I dressed the part and the style of the day. I wore thin ties, nice shirts, and a black Members-Only Jacket. I looked at my jacket and saw a perfect hole about the size of a phone cord. I took off my jacket and looked at my shirtsleeve, there was another perfect hole in the material. I rolled up my shirt and then saw a very large exit wound.
The exit wound took up most of my outer left forearm, nearer to the elbow area, and had the consistency of touching a nicely cooked turkey breast at Thanksgiving time, about the same size too. There was a dark spot at the center and several thin dark rings. My fiancée finally answered the phone and I told her what had happened and to meet me at the Bear River Hospital in Tremonton. When I got to the hospital I was seen immediately and I overheard something about a catheter. I had a catheter once when I had my ears rebuilt in 1981. The experience was painful and horrific until it reached my bladder, and then I praised its invention. Nevertheless, at this point in my life, I did not want one.
The nurse explained to me that when someone is electrocuted the path of electron travel through the body becomes dead tissue. That much dead tissue being flushed out of the body through the urine can cause Kidney failure due to being over worked. I told them I was not going to need one but they insisted. I asked them what do I have to do to prove I did not need one. They gave me a cup and said, "PEE.” I told them that I would fill a bucket if they wanted me too. After all of that they packed me in an ambulance and I got a 70 mile ride all the way into Salt Lake City where they dropped me off at the burn clinic at the University of Utah.
I estimated about 6 to 8 interns were working around me with one doctor as the lead. After about 30 minutes of poking and prodding another old man came in, apparently a Chief Doctor or Supervising Physician and/or Instructor. He came in and started massaging my feet and toes, doing an inspection. He looked up at the other doctor and asked, "Where is the exit wound, I don’t see an exit wound?"
While the Chief Physician was performing the inspection of my feet, the other lead doctor said that the exit wound was on my left forearm. The Chief Physician moved to my side and saw the large, obvious wound. The Chief Physician then moved down my left arm towards my left hand and fingers. He then thoroughly checked my left hand and fingers. By this time, some of the interns had stopped working and watched the coming exchange of dialog. The Chief Physician looked up again and asked, "I don’t see an entrance wound here, where is the entrance wound?"
With that question all the interns had stopped, in midstream, what they were doing and the room turned silent. All eyes were on the lead doctor and he too stopped what he was doing and looked up at the Chief Physician. "The entrance wound is on the right hand between the thumb and the forefinger."
A look of disbelief came over the Chief Physician’s face and he moved around to the right side of the table that I was laying on. He began to inspect my right hand and he found the first-degree burn between my thumb and forefinger on my right hand. He looked at the other doctors in the room, then back at the entrance wound on the right hand and then over to my left arm at the exit wound. He did this several times as to convince himself that what he was seeing was real. All the interns and the other doctor stood there, silent, watching. With a large sigh the Chief Physician then looked at me and said, "Well I have no idea how you did it or how I am even talking to you. Son, you should be dead. It's a miracle you are even here."
I just lay there, soaking it all in. I was more interested in getting out of there and getting myself a Whopper. Things wrapped up soon after that. I was given an antibiotic cream and some bandages and told that the wound would start flushing itself and to keep the bandages fresh. It took a few months for the wound to heal and the center finally came out. Now all that is left is about a 3.5 inch round scar on my forearm, which still itches like crazy every so often. Occasionally I get spasms in my left arm. There is permanent damage, no doubt, to some of my nerves. Today it seems more like a dream than real life. I have the scar that reminds me daily of this event and how real it was.
Now, perhaps, you can understand how my faith is not greater than the average Christian's. I have seen that there is an after-life. I have felt the hand of the Lord on me. I have seen the situation as a third person so I can have the whole perspective of what I went through. John 20:29 (NIV) "...Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” Granted I was a Christian long before this time, but when my faith wavers and I have doubts about who I am and what I am here for, I have no excuses because I have been to the other side.
Rhettman A. Mullis, Jr.
President – Church In Action Ministries