Proof of Heaven

I moved down through great walls of clouds. There was murmuring all
around me, but I couldn’t understand the words. Then I realized that
countless beings were surrounding me, kneeling in arcs that spread into
the distance. Looking back on it now, I realize what these half-seen, half-
sensed hierarchies of beings, stretching out into the dark above and
below, were doing.
They were praying for me.
Two of the faces I remembered later were those of Michael Sullivan
and his wife, Page. I recall seeing them in profile only, but I clearly
identified them after my return when language came back. Michael had
physically been in the ICU room leading prayers numerous times, but
Page was never physically there (although she had said prayers for me
too).
These prayers gave me energy. That’s probably why, profoundly sad as
I was, something in me felt a strange confidence that everything would be
all right. These beings knew I was undergoing a transition, and they were
singing and praying to help me keep my spirits up. I was headed into the
unknown, but by that point I had complete faith and trust that I would be
taken care of, as my companion on the butterfly wing and the infinitely
loving Deity had promised—that wherever I went, Heaven would come
with me. It would come in the form of the Creator, of Om, and it would
come in the form of the angel—my angel—the Girl on the Butterfly
Wing.
I was on the way back, but I was not alone—and I knew I’d never feel
alone again.