Rich Dixon continues telling us his story
Looking back, I think I received a visit from heaven.
When I opened my eyes in darkness, I believed Jesus stood beside me in heaven. Completely at rest. No fear, no questions, just safe and loved beyond anything I’d ever experienced.
It wasn’t a mystical near-death experience. I emerged from the depths of a semi-coma, saw the dim outline of my friend praying, and mistook him for Jesus.
But I’m absolutely certain – Jesus WAS in that room. No, I didn’t see Him, but He was there, just as He was there when I fell. Just as He’s been beside me on every painful step along this path.
+ + +
At so many places in this journey, God offered His peace and rest. I might have claimed the unquestioned sense of peace, the knowledge I wasn’t alone. I might have truly believed He’d show me meaning in the midst of meaninglessness.
I might have done those things. But this wasn’t a Hallmark movie.
The real-life me wasn’t ready to accept the freedom and hope of Jesus’ love. I wasn’t ready yet to trust that He was bigger than the Frankenstein brace. But even as I clung desperately to the pain, Jesus provided a glimpse of what was available.
I wasn’t open yet to believing anything good could be found in this terrible new life. But the experience was there, hanging out in the background, taking its place in the tapestry God was patiently and faithfully weaving.
In the face of unspeakable terror, I experienced the certain knowledge that Jesus stood beside me. I felt the peace that accompanied that belief. I knew the absolute reality of Jesus’ presence.
When I was finally ready, the power of that encounter would alter the course of my life.