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Bound For Hell
By Esther G Spurrill
Saturday, February 23, 2002
It was the most terrifying moment of my life. I had just entered the intersection--at 90 k's--on a green light, when this car appeared in front of me. Apparently, the driver had run a red light. I tried to stop, slammed on the brakes, closed my eyes, and prayed for the first time in my life. I really didn't know how to pray; all that came out was, "Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God . . ."
Then came the crash. It was awful. My car's front end hit the right side of the other car, and it flipped up onto my hood and came at my windshield. It was red; I remember that quite clearly. Then it hit the windshield and I couldn't see anything else. Everything just went dark; not black really, just dark.
Just before it went dark, it felt like my whole body was being crushed and cut to pieces. It hurt so bad, I'm sure I screamed; but I didn't hear the scream. All I could hear was rending metal and glass shattering. After it went dark, I couldn't feel or hear anything. It was as if my whole body was numb and I was deaf.
It seemed like an eternity that I just floated in nothingness, without sight, without feeling. Then I heard voices around me, and I was moving. I managed to open my eyes, and there were EMT's all around me. I guess I needed EMT's. Then the pain returned, and I drifted away again.
This time I went somewhere else. I'm not sure exactly how to describe it, except that it bore no resemblance to the "light at the end of the tunnel" visions you always hear about. There was no tunnel, no light--except for the glare from the fire. It was actually more of an inferno than a fire, blazing below me in this impossibly huge pit.
By now, I was really scared. I didn't know where I was or what was happening to me. The heat from the fire was starting to get to me, too, and I was sweating like nobody's business. But then I saw that there were people in the pit--in the fire--and I could hear them screaming. Horrified, I tried to turn away, and couldn't. Then, I saw my brother Jerry who had died five years ago from a drug overdose. Below me, among the roaring flames, he was fighting his way towards me. His skin was blackened and charred, his eyes tearing from the awful smoke. Looking up at me, he cried in anguish, "Go back, Carl! Go back! Don't come here; it's horrible here!"
Terrified and revolted, I begged him, "What is this place?"
He looked at me, tormented, and replied, "Don't you know? This is Hell, Carl! This is Hell!" His anguished eyes pleaded with me. "You're not really here yet, Carl! Go back while you still can! Once you're here, there's no way out!"
No way out, no way out, no way out. His words echoed in my soul. I had to leave, get out, go back. But how? How could I get away from this terrible place? I wished with everything in me that I would wake up, that I would be alive.
It seemed to work. I opened my eyes in the ambulance. The EMT's were working frantically, trying to keep me alive. But somehow I knew that nothing they did would help; if I was to stay out of Hell, it was up to me to do it. The pain was back now that I was awake, wracking my body with agony, almost causing me to lose my grip on reality and slip away again. I fought it with everything in me.
I had never believed in God or the devil or Hell. Such things were fantasies of the weak-minded. Even as a child, I had never gone to Sunday School or church. My parents were very modern; religion had no place in our lives.
My brother and I had often laughed together over the Christians we met. We couldn't believe anybody could actually believe in that stuff. Now, though, Jerry was in Hell, and I was about to become his next-door neighbour.
The darkness was there with me, just beyond my consciousness, waiting. All I had to do was relax just a bit, and it would have me. No! I wouldn't! I wouldn't die!
But I was so tired. I couldn't keep fighting. My control began to slip and the darkness rushed in to consume me. The fiery inferno opened once more beneath me and the heat came up from it to strike me like a hammer. Hellish heat. Um, bad choice of words.
I was moving now, descending toward the pit. The heat was getting greater and greater as I approached the fire. I knew I was dying, and going to Hell. "No!" I screamed. "No!" But nothing happened. I fell, faster and faster, the hungry tongues of flame licking up toward my body. Then, I remembered something I'd heard once. A preacher on TV had said, "If you're in trouble, just call on His Name. Just say, 'Jesus!' and He'll be right there beside you." I'd laughed then, but I wasn't laughing now.
There was no time for long, flowery prayers. The flames of Hell were licking at my toes. In seconds, I'd be within them, lost forever. I screamed, "Jesus!" and the flames actually shrank back. Encouraged, I screamed, "Jesus!" again and I stopped falling. Suddenly, I believed everything those crazy Christians had tried to tell me. I began sobbing, tears just pouring down my cheeks. "Jesus," I gasped between sobs, "please save me."
Just like that, the fire and the heat and the burning people were all gone. I was standing on nothing, in nothing. But I was at peace. Then, Jesus was there, standing in front of me. He didn't look anything like the pictures of Him; He looked like God. Please don't ask me what God looks like. I can't explain it, but I just looked at Him and knew He was God, I was seeing God.
He smiled. Jesus smiled at me! He put His arms around me and hugged me close. Then He told me I had to go back. I didn't want to--I wanted to stay with Him forever--but He told me He had a job for me on earth.
I woke up in a hospital bed. My recovery was fast, so fast I amazed the doctors. Then I started telling my story and people listened and came to know Jesus too. I'm a preacher now!