Over the years, I envied Christians. They always seem of all the things which for me are nothing but doubts.
On August 30th, 2004, sometime between midnight and dawn, I had a vision in that peculiar space between sleeping and waking. I was very near death. The skin all across my abdomen had turned septic. Antibiotics were not working. Even the emergency debridement from the plastic surgery swat team had not fixed it. I knew I was dying. I could feel myself slipping away. I expected death to be more dramatic and certainly more frightening. I was less afraid than sad. I felt I had not done whatever it was I was supposed to do this time around the wheel.
Then came the vision. Unlike a dream, it has stayed clear as crystal. Never has it become faded or confused.
I was a little bird, a sparrow. I was broken and lying, unable to move or fly, on the wet cobblestones of some street in some eastern European city that was in the midst of war. In the background, I could hear the muttering of automatic weapons. As I lay there, I heard a great Voice. I heard it, but not with my ears, and the Voice filled my head.
“Enough” said the Voice.
The guns went quiet. I knew that the people who’d been fighting had ceased to exist, that they had been unmade. I waited in dread. I knew that I had done something bad, although precisely what I had done was unclear. All I could do was wait until the Voice came again.
“As for you, little bird, “ said the Voice, and I thought “There goes the other wing. There goes this fragile bird’s body.”
And then the Voice said, “Little bird, you can fly away.”
I flew away. When morning came, I was fine. The fever broke. My abdomen was clear of infection. A day later I went home. I was going to live.
Nor was this my first “extra throw” of the dice. When I was 19 and had spinal surgery, the spinal cord became infected . I was delirious. The delirium went on for 10 days and nights and I was in a lot of pain. Then, I had a chat with a Voice, who said: “You are in a terrible pain. You don’t have to keep fighting. You can let go or you can choose to stay. If you stay, the pain will continue. It will be a slow, difficult recovery.”
Obviously, I chose to stay. The next day didn’t bring relief from pain, but it brought me out of delirium and into consciousness.
So, that was twice. What does it mean? I don’t know. Something, for sure, but exactly what? Our old Pastor asked me if I was going to ask God for a photo ID. Maybe. That seems to be a problem for me. I want to know who is doing what.
I also would like to know WHY. More to the point, why me?
About the Author
Marilyn Armstrong is a writer, blogger and photographer. She started writing as soon as she could form letters and has never heard a single good reason why she should stop. Marilyn and her husband Garry, as well their son, daughter-in-law, granddaugher and various intrepid canines, live in a setting of rare natural beauty and gigantic rocks in rural Massachusetts.
Marilyn blogs at Serendipity where she offers “memories via anecdotes, observations, occasional fiction, and photographs.”
Find and follow Marilyn
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Fighting the of demons of an abusive childhood and having given up on traditional paths to personal salvation, Maggie decides to find her own path … by building a teepee in her back yard. It’s a peculiar route, but her goal is simple: offload the cargo of her past and move into a future, sans luggage. Armed with a draw knife and a sense of humor, she peels poles and paints canvas until winter passes and she is free.
If you have had a strange experience or encounter that you would like to share, please get in touch with me at findme@scvincent.com (or my usual email if you already have it) and we can discuss a guest post.
I am not looking for sensationalism or fictional tales… but in light of the response to some recent posts, I think it would be both useful and reassuring to others to realise that none of us are alone in these strange encounters and experiences and perhaps we can open discussion on what they may be or may mean.
If you would like to share your story but prefer to remain anonymous, we can discuss that too. If you would like to share your beliefs and opinions on the nature of these experiences, I would be happy to talk about a guest post. Through sharing with respect we may learn to understand our world and each other a little better.
Sue Vincent's Daily Echo 
There is no answer to why. It is beyond our ken and we have no way of knowing what small interaction, words or thoughts have changed the world one way or another. You don’t need to be a Christian to have faith and to be loved by God. The one is not dependent on the other. Very nice post.
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What a wonderful affirmative approach to life! Thanks so much to both of you for sharing this.
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I am left not sure why I have had these two close calls with … what exactly? I can’t argue with the closeness of the calls … but I’m confused that they happened to me. I suppose we are granted what we are granted for reasons that are not ours. If the reason isn’t mine, I will never have an answer.
I would like to say one thing: A vision is nothing like a dream. You get a lot of people saying “Oh, it was just a dream,” but it wasn’t a dream. Completely different head space.
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Reblogged this on Smorgasbord – Variety is the spice of life and commented:
Another tale from the unexpected over on Sue Vincent’s blog. So many people have had unexplained brushes with something that cannot be defined that it is clear we have to keep an open mind. Mine is definitely open and after reading Marilyn Armstrong’s experiences I think you will too. #recommended
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Experiences like this come from someplace else, I think. Depending on where you are coming from, you may feel they come from God — a god or gods — or some variation of godness, however you understand it. But there is not arguing that they come from somewhere and there is a reason why, even if I don’t know what that reason is.
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I agree Marilyn.. having had one or two brushes myself, including a near death experience I have to say that I do not fear death..just the manner of my passing. As to what is to come. As they say the next great adventure.
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Thanks for reblogging, Sally xx
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why me, well maybe it is to tell the tale of your experiences many years later when a global platform existed in a a changing world, and your story could be told to everyone all over the world, not a bad reason…changes
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I guess. I always wonder when there are so many people in need of help — salvation in fact — why me? I suppose the real answer is probably “why not?”
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we all have a reason for being, have an enjoyable day,
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I found this to be a lovely and uplifting post. Thank you, Marilyn and Sue.
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Reblogged this on anita dawes and jaye marie.
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This post reinforces my belief that we are more special than we know…
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The story of the little bird is so powerful. What an amazing experience. Thanks for sharing, Marilyn, and to Sue for bringing us your story.
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It was a powerful symbol for me, too. One which I could not ignore. It was so far out of my “normal” experience, there was no way for me to slot it in with other things. I’m almost uncomfortable talking about it. It seems so … not me … if that makes any sense.
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I think what’s unsettling (and exhilarating) in a way, for me, is that once something like this happens, it blows the doors open tp a whole other level of being/existence. How we define what is “real” is forced to expand and we can’t ignore possibilities for the safety of the “known.” Thanks for sharing. ❤
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Loved the story of the little broken bird. Two amazing incidents – though I don’t have any answers to your questions.
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I think possibly there is no answer, at least none I would understand. So I take it as it happened.
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Beautiful and amazing
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Reblogged this on Die Erste Eslarner Zeitung – Aus und über Eslarn, sowie die bayerisch-tschechische Region!.
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Why not! 🙂 Fascinating, Marilyn. Thanks for sharing. xo
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Thank you, Marilyn and Sue. Why me? It’s a question everyone asks who has been gifted with this experience. There is never an answer. I don’t question, yet I wonder what (if anything) I should be doing. I loved the bird!
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SI would never have intentionally envisioned myself as a broken bird. So far out of the normal way I look at myself and my world, Truly startling.
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Indeed!
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wow. An amazing experience, not the horrible pain and delirium but the voice. xxx
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Reblogged this on firefly465.
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Thanks for sharing, Adele. x
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My pleasure, Sue. xxx
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Reblogged this on Author Don Massenzio and commented:
Meet guest author Marilyn Armstrong in this feature from Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo blog.
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Thanks for reblogging, Don 🙂
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You’re welcome.
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