I’m about to share the truth, though I don’t expect anyone to believe it. I, too, would have dismissed it as unbelievable, yet it is undeniably what I experienced. Some may even label me as crazy, while others will find it astonishing but struggle to fully grasp my experience because words inevitably fall short in conveying what I truly witnessed.
Failing To See His Presence
My story unfolds in the woods, where I had been bowhunting for whitetails. It truly was a challenging year with just one successful buck during the entire deer season. Now, with deer season over, I turned to hunting hogs in my frustration. On one such day, I decided to take a break and headed to a clearing where an old Pine Tree was cut down by Park Rangers with only a stump remaining next to two small ponds. I only hunt on public land, so encountering other people on the property was common.
As I sat there, sipping water and enjoying a sandwich, I found myself upset with God. I was an atheist, but for some reason, I began conversing with Him. I asked, ‘Why do you seem to hold me in such disregard, even hate me?’ This was in reference to my lack of success in hunting deer or hogs. I was in self-pity I knew I had opportunities, but the right shot always seemed to elude me. Frustrated with the hunt, I began negotiating with God, ‘If you won’t grant me any game, you could at least let me have a shed.’ Not even thinking about want I just said, I continued to glass for game.
After finishing my lunch and packing my gear, I descended the hill. To my amazement, no more than 4 feet from where I had been sitting, observing wildlife through my binoculars, I discovered a shed. What struck me as odd was that I had walked that very area before settling down to choose the best vantage point over the ridges. I was certain that I had already examined that spot thoroughly. Without a doubt, I grabbed the shed, marveling at my ‘luck.’ Just 20 feet further along the trail I just walked, I stumbled upon another one. It was genuinely thrilling to find a shed so close to my resting spot.
As I continued down the trail, carrying both the antlers in my hands, I couldn’t help but ponder the remarkable odds of this discovery. Then, I noticed yet another shed antler hanging from a branch. It could have been placed there by another hunter, or perhaps a passing deer had left it entangled in the limb. Oddly enough, it hung at eye level for me, a 6-foot-tall man. At that moment, I couldn’t help but think, ‘It’s my lucky day.’ I jumped into my truck and headed home, not attributing anything to God.
In the woods, God continued to show me His love on numerous occasions, though I failed to recognize His presence or acknowledge His blessings. As time passed, I gradually forgot about God once again, finding comfort in my worldly pursuits, unaware that a profound change was on the horizon. God never crossed my mind. (It wasn’t until a year later I showed my family this very spot where God first spoke to me with his actions.)
Illness Falls On Me
One evening, while I was at home, an unexpected and severe allergic reaction began to manifest across my entire body. It commenced on my torso, then gradually extended to my limbs I itched so bad. whelps developed all over my body. They looked like bee stings all over me. Eventually, it all reached my neck and face. That’s when my troubles truly began. This allergic reaction struck in the middle of the night, seemingly without any provocation or identifiable cause. To this day, none of the doctors or allergists I’ve consulted have been able to pinpoint its origin. (One allergist said it could be self-inflicted by stress.) I hurried to the hospital, where they initially administered steroids to alleviate my condition.
After spending a couple of hours in the emergency room, I was sent home. However, as I attempted to lie down and rest at home, my breathing became increasingly labored. Overcome by fear, I rushed to another ER. There, my throat began to constrict, my lips swelled, and my eyes started to close. An EpiPen was promptly administered, and my breathing rapidly improved. Believing all was well, I was prescribed an EpiPen and returned home once again. But my ordeal was far from over. I soon found myself forced to use another EpiPen as my ability to breathe ceased entirely.
The following morning with my supply of EpiPens now depleted, I sought help from my family physician. As I sat in the waiting room, it appeared that the doctor failed to fully comprehend the severity of my situation. I began to lose consciousness, and it was at this critical juncture that a vigilant nurse intervened. Recognizing the gravity of my condition, she administered yet another EpiPen. Following that, I was admitted to the hospital because my rash had now engulfed my entire body.
During my hospitalization, I experienced another life-threatening attack, marking my fourth anaphylactic shock within a span of 24 hours. Although I briefly stabilized, a team of doctors engaged in a fervent debate about the best course of action. It was during this period of uncertainty that my throat seized up for the last time. I found myself taking what I believed to be my final breath, incapable of inhaling any air into my lungs. My eyes closed, and the last sight that met my gaze was my mother, yelling and pointing at me, her eyes filled with terror.
At this moment I was gone. My essence, my soul, was violently torn from my body with tremendous force, plunging me into an abyss of impenetrable darkness. Devoid of light and sound, it was an existence of pure, unrelenting nothingness in every direction. Initially, I struggled to comprehend my surroundings, desperately attempting to unravel the enigma of my predicament.
Confusion and a hint of fear enveloped me as I grappled with the inexplicable events. In the subsequent phase, I cried out with desperate pleas for help, calling for my family, but my anguished cries fell on deaf ears, receiving no response. Even when I implored God for assistance, there was nothing but silence, a continuation of the same unyielding void. I endured what could only be described as decades of excruciating isolation.
Gradually, a realization dawned upon me – this stark, desolate isolation had become my new, inescapable reality. At that very moment of realization, my very essence seemed to shut down, like a computer going into power save mode. I ceased my cries, and the terror that had once gripped me dissipated. I was acutely aware of my location; I was in Hell, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that my presence there was a consequence of my own actions. No one to rescue me; judgment had already been passed. Notably, I did not witness the conventional imagery associated with Hell – there were no lakes of fire, no tormented souls. Instead, what I profoundly experienced was the agonizing absence of God Himself.
This, in essence, constituted the very essence of Hell. In Hell, God no longer heeds your cries; you cease to be His, and all prospects of redemption evaporate. This was the Hell I endured, a seemingly eternal state where being without God amounted to unspeakable torment, an experience I fervently hope no one else ever has to endure. I truly felt the absence of God, and that, in itself, is Hell.
At a certain point, after what felt like years of utter nothingness, it came to an end. I could see my body, first my hands in front of me, illuminating like a light within me. Once I recognized that it was myself that was the light, I began to disintegrate away. I watched my hands and forearms fall like dust. Then, I was pulled back to my body with such force that it felt like an impact. My eyes were wide open, and I was breathing again. I felt weak, but I was no longer sick. A 5th EpiPen in 24 hours was administered.
I kept this experience to myself for a considerable time, primarily due to its incredible nature. I was concerned that sharing it would prompt people to perceive me differently. Perhaps, as you read these words, you might even consider me not of sound mind. It wasn’t until eight months had passed that I finally mustered the courage to divulge what I had experienced. I chose to confide in my wife, although I must admit that I harbored apprehensions about her reaction. “What did you see?” she inquired.
I couldn’t help but ponder how I would have reacted if the roles were reversed, considering I was an atheist. I likely would have attempted to provide a scientific explanation, attributing it to a lack of oxygen to her brain, causing hallucinations as her body struggled to cope with the impending shutdown. Reflecting on it now, I can’t help but roll my eyes at how blind I really was.
The Time Is Now
Despite all that had transpired, I had yet to take the leap toward embracing Christ. I continued to rationalize away what I had witnessed, attempting to find earthly explanations for the inexplicable. However, a pivotal moment occurred during another hunting expedition in the woods as I trailed animal tracks. Everything around me abruptly became still. There were no birds in motion, no sounds, no rustling leaves, no wind hitting the back of my neck and it was as if time itself had frozen for a moment.
In that suspended moment, an overwhelming wave of love and solace washed over me. Strangely, this profound happiness made me feel uneasy. But alongside this sensation, there was an urgent compulsion to depart immediately. I retraced my steps along the same trail I had initially taken, and those five miles out felt like the swiftest I had ever traversed. Before I knew it, I was back in my truck, driving, propelled by a profound desire to be close to God, an unmeasurable yearning to remain in His presence without any interruption.
Recalling the vivid images and emotions of that moment, I realized that I truly believed in Jesus Christ as the Son of God. It was an unshakable conviction that led me to crave baptism. I drove with no particular destination in mind but serendipitously found myself outside a church with parked cars on a Saturday afternoon. Stepping inside, I inquired about speaking to a preacher.
I’m sure I looked like a crazy man, in full hunting gear, straight out of the woods. I may have even had leaves in my beard. I spoke to a couple of men there, confessed my belief that Jesus was the Son of God, and asked to be baptized right then. And I was.
I do not what to tell anyone how they should perceive all this, you will make up your own mind. I can only convey what I personally witnessed. I never saw God, Jesus, or heaven—though I deeply wish I had. Nevertheless, I can assert with conviction that Hell is a reality, and by simple reasoning, if Hell exists, then so must Heaven and the living God. I am emotional every time I recount what I saw for it is horrible.
My life has undergone a profound transformation. I once staunchly identified as an atheist, relentlessly mocking people of faith and diminishing the convictions of Christians young in their faith to the point where they questioned their own beliefs. Regrettably, I cannot erase the past, nor can I reverse the consequences of my words and actions. My only recourse is to now lead a life of righteousness and spread the Gospel.
My unshakable faith in Jesus Christ as my Savior, sustained by the grace of God, is what I believe will shield me from Hell. Personally, I feel undeserving of his salvation, yet I am overwhelmed with gratitude for God’s boundless love and grace to me. He sent His Son to endure the cross for my sins, opening the door to eternal life in His kingdom. This privilege fills me with profound thankfulness, and I am deeply honored to serve His will. Because I have seen.
Salvation Has Been Paid For
As I’ve mentioned earlier, I harbor no expectation that you will readily accept my account as truth. It’s quite plausible that you might regard me as eccentric, or delusional or even dismiss my narrative entirely. Before composing this testimony, I conducted research to ascertain whether others have reported similar encounters with Hell. I found a lot of accounts of Heaven and a bright light. Remarkably, only a handful of individuals have come forward to share their experiences of Hell, and most of them recount tales of torment, agony, and despair. Strikingly, there is just one other person whose narrative closely resembles mine. I hold the belief that God granted me a glimpse of what awaited me if I persisted without repentance.
However, I’m convinced that I only witnessed a fraction of the true extent of Hell. Anything beyond what I perceived might have inflicted insurmountable psychological distress. It’s my firm conviction that God loves both me and you deeply. He desires the salvation of every soul and has no wish for anyone to face eternal damnation. Nonetheless, it’s crucial to acknowledge that there are tangible consequences for deviating from His divine guidance.
I’ll leave you with these thoughts, and I encourage you to form your own judgment. However, I implore you to take my warning seriously. Take a moment to introspect, invite the Holy Spirit into your heart, and delve into the teachings of Jesus Christ. His divine grace can rescue you from the perils of damnation. He has already paid the price for your salvation, serving as the ultimate atonement to God, the sacrificial lamb. The power of faith and grace is profound, and I am profoundly thankful to the Lord for His boundless love, which He extended to me even before I knew Him.
I sincerely hope that all who peruse this account approach it with an open heart. By sharing my experience with everyone, my aspiration is that it may guide some of you toward discovering Christ. While I may not fully comprehend the purpose behind sharing this testimony, I’m genuinely convinced that it’s something I’m called to do. I am not here to save you; I am here to let you know Jesus has already fulfilled that role.
John 3:5-6
5 Jesus answered, “Most assuredly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God. 6 That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit.