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WE ARE NEVER ALONE!!!
“This is a true story that occurred in 1994 and is told by
Lloyd Glenn: Throughout our lives we are blessed with spiritual
experiences, some of which are very sacred and confidential, and
others, although sacred, are meant to be shared. Last summer my
family had a spiritual experience that had a lasting and profound
impact on us, one we feel must be shared. It's a message of love.
It's a message of regaining perspective, and restoring proper
balance and renewing priorities. In humility, pray that I might,
in relating this story, give you a gift my little son, Brian,
gave our family one summer day last year.”
(The story is told by the father. He gets the news that his three
year old son has been crushed beneath an
automatic garage door opener. At first they think he is dead but
the paramedics revive him and rush him to the hospital. The
husband is worried, but he wife remains calm. In the end there is
a “miraculous” recovery. The boy, who was unconscious
and on a respirator and at one time thought to be dead leaves the
hospital with no damage whatsoever.) “By the next day he was
pronounced as having no neurological or physical deficits, and
the story of his miraculous survival spread throughout the
hospital.:
(There is no mention in the story of prayer, or belief in God
except for the following sentence:)
“As we took Brian home we felt a unique reverence for the
life and love of our Heavenly Father that comes to those who
brush death so closely. In the days that followed there was a
special spirit about our home.Our two older children were much
closer to their little brother. My wife and I were much closer to
each other, and all of us were very close as a whole family. Life
took on a less stressful pace. Perspective
seemed to be more focused, and balance much easier to gain and
maintain. We felt deeply blessed. Our
gratitude was truly profound.”(So now they continue with the
main point of the story:)
“Almost a month later to the day of the accident, Brian
awoke from his afternoon nap and said, "Sit down
mommy. I have something to tell you." At this time in his
life, Brian usually spoke in small phrases, so to
say a large sentence surprised my wife. She sat down with him on
his bed and he began his sacred and
remarkable story. "Do you remember when I got stuck under
the garage door? Well it was so heavy and
it hurt really bad. I called to you, but you couldn't hear me. I
started to cry, but then it hurt too bad. And
then the 'birdies' came." "The birdies?" my wife
asked puzzled. "Yes," he replied. "The birdies
made a
whooshing sound and flew into the garage. They took care of me.
One of the birdies came and got you.
She came to tell you I got stuck under the door." A sweet
reverent feeling filled the room. The spirit was so strong and
yet lighter than air. My wife realized that a three-year-old had
no concept of death and spirits, so he was referring to the
beings who came to him from beyond as "birdies" because
they were up in the air
like birds that fly. "What did the birdies look like?"
she asked. Brian answered, "They were so beautiful.
They were dressed in white, all white. Some of them had green and
white. But some of them had on just
white." "Did they say anything?" "Yes"
he answered. "They told me the baby would be all
right." "The
baby?" my wife asked confused. Brian answered. "The
baby laying on the garage floor." He went on,
"You came out and opened the garage door and ran to the
baby. You told the baby to stay and not leave."
My wife nearly collapsed upon hearing this, for she had indeed
gone and knelt beside Brian's body and
seeing his crushed chest and recognizable features, knowing he
was already dead, she looked up around
her and whispered, "Don't leave us. Brian, please stay if
you can."
As she listened to Brian telling her the words she had spoken,
she realized that the spirit had left his body
and was looking down from above on this little lifeless form.
"Then what happened?" she asked. "We
went on a trip." He said, "far, far away." He grew
agitated trying to say the things he didn't seem to have
the words for. My wife tried to calm and comfort him, and let him
know it would be okay. He struggled
with wanting to tell something that obviously was very important
to him, but finding the words was
difficult. "We flew so fast up in the air. They're so pretty
Mommy." He added. "And there is lots and lots
of birdies." My wife was stunned. Into her mind the sweet
comforting spirit enveloped her more soundly,
but with an urgency she had never before known. Brian went on to
tell her that the "birdies" had told him
that he had to come back and tell everyone about the
"birdies". He said they brought him back to the
house and that a big fire truck, and an ambulance was there. A
man was bringing the baby out on a white
bed and he tried to tell the man that the baby would be okay, but
the man couldn't hear him. He said the
birdies told him he had to go with the ambulance, but they would
be near him. He said, they were so
pretty and so peaceful, and he didn't want to come back.
Then the bright light came. He said that the light was so bright
and so warm, and he loved the bright light
so much. Someone was in the bright light and put their arms
around him, and told him, "I love you but
you have to go back. You have to play baseball, and tell everyone
about the birdies." Then the person in
the bright light kissed him and waved bye-bye. Then woosh, the
big sound came and they went into the
clouds. The story went on for an hour. He taught us that
"birdies" were always with us, but we don't see
them because we look with our eyes and we don't hear them because
we listen with our ears. But they are
always there, you can only see them in here (he put his hand over
his heart). They whisper the things to
Help us to do what is right because they love us so much. Brian
continued, stating, "I have a plan,
Mommy. You have a plan. Daddy has a plan. Everyone has a plan. We
must all live our plan and keep
our promises. The birdies help us to do that cause they love us
so much."
In the weeks that followed, he often came to us and told all, or
part of it again and again. Always the story
remained the same. The details were never changed or out of
order. A few times he added further bits of
information and clarified the message he had already delivered.
It never ceased to amaze us how he could
tell such detail and speak beyond his ability when he spoke of
his "birdies".
Everywhere he went, he told strangers about the
"birdies". Surprisingly, no one ever looked at him
strangely when he did this. Rather, they always got a softened
look on their face and smiled. Needless to
say, we have not been the same ever since that day, and pray we
never will be.
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