More on 90 minutes in heaven

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More on 90 minutes in heaven

Post  servant on Sun 09 Mar 2008, 5:59 am

More on 90 minutes in heaven.

Page 29

As a young boy I spent a lot of time out in the
country and woods. When walking through waist-high dried grass, I often
surprised a covey of birds and flushed them out of their nests on the ground. A
whooshing sound accompanied their wings as they flew away. My most vivid memory of
heaven is what I heard. I can only describe it as a holy swoosh of wings. But I’d
have to magnify that thousands of times to explain the effect of the sound in
heaven. It was the most beautiful and pleasant sound I’ve ever heard, and it
didn’t stop. It was like a song that goes on forever. I felt awestruck, wanting
only to listen. I didn’t just here music. It seemed as if I were part of the
music-and it played in and through my body. I stood still, and yet I felt as if
the heavenly concert permeated every part of my being, and at the save time I
focused on everything else around me. I never saw anything that produced the
sound. I had the sense that whatever made that heavenly music was just above
me, but I didn’t look up. I’m not sure why. Perhaps it was because I was so
enamored with the people around me, or maybe it was because my senses were so
engaged that I feasted on everything at the same time. I asked no questions and
never wondered about anything. Everything was perfect. I sensed that I knew
everything and had no question to ask. Myriads of sounds so filled my mind and
heart that it’s difficult to explain them. The most amazing one, however, was
the angels’ wings. I didn’t see them, but the sound was a beautiful, holy
melody with a cadence that seemed never to stop. The swishing resounded as if
it was a form of never-ending praise. As I listened I simply know what it was.
A second sound remains, even today, the single, most vivid memory I have of my
entire heavenly experience. I call it music, but It differed from anything I
had ever heard or ever expect to here on the earth. The melodies of praise
filled the atmosphere. The nonstop intensity and endless variety overwhelmed
me. The praise was unending, but the most remarkable thing to me was that
hundreds of songs were being sung at the same time-all of them worshiping God.
As I approached the large, magnificent gate, I heard them form every direction
and realized that each voice praised God. I write voice, but it was more that
that. Some sounded instrumental, but I wasn’t sure-and I wasn’t concerned.
Praise was everywhere, and all of it was musical, yet comprised of melodies and
tones I’d never experienced before. ‘Hallelujah!’ ‘Praise!’ ‘Glory to God!” “Praise
to the King!” Such words rang out in the midst of all the music. I don’t know
if angels were singing them or if they came from humans. I felt if angels were
singing them or if they came from humans. I felt so awestruck and caught up in
the heavenly mood that I didn’t look around. My heart filled with the deepest
joy I’ve ever experienced. I wasn’t a participant in the worship, yet I felt as
if my heart rang out with the same kind of joy and exuberance. If we played
three CDs of praise at the same time, we’d have a cacophony of noise that would
drive us crazy. This was totally different. Every sound blended, and each voice
or instrument enhanced the others. As strange as it may seem, I could clearly
distinguish each song. It sounded as if each hymn of praise was meant for me to
hear as I moved inside the gate.

To be continued

Do you want more of the story.

Servant

servant
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