I have always enjoyed reading books and stories about near-death experiences -- that is, until I lived through one.

I am thirty years old, and saying that I have lived life in the fast lane doesn't even come close to a description. I was the original "wild child". A drinkng, partying, carrousing good-time guy. A dare-devil, and a very mean drunk. By the time I was eighteen, I was a diagnosed alcoholic. By twenty-three, I had already served three rounds of time as a result of my run-ins with the law.

I began my radio career as a program manager/part-time DJ at a popular rock music station. Suddenly I was known, loved and popular myself. I partied with rock bands and felt that life was finally back on the right track for me.

But was I happy? Think about it! Every night, drinking myself blind. Every morning, a "morning after". I was miserable.

In April, my second oldest brother, Kevin, gave his heart to Jesus. And I reacted in my usual arrogant manner. Instead of being happy that Kevin (once so depressed and down-hearted) had finally found the peace he had sought for so long, I made fun of something that I couldn't possibly understand. I gave him a pretty hard time. When he would try to talk to me about it, and say that he was praying for me, I brushed him off or laughed at him. After all, I was Radio Randy, what use did I have for some God that made no sense to me?

But deep inside, where I could only admit it to myself, I resented Kevin's new-found happiness because I was so hungry for it myself. You wouldn't have known it. I acted like my old happy self, and I still made the party rounds and could (and would) drink all others under the table! But still, Kevin (and by now my oldest brother Danny, who had gotten saved about two months later) just kept talking about Jesus to me.

Kevin is a truck driver, and he asked me to go on a haul with him and help him pick up something. He talked so much about Jesus and the changes in his life as a result of knowing Him, and I was resenting it so much, that after downing two six-packs in that one night, I punched Kevin right in the face. Now I was half-way hoping he would punch me back, just so I could say what sinners always say to the saved -- "and you call yourself a Christian". But it did't happen that way. Kevin just took me to a motel room, let me sleep it off, and the next morning he stopped and bought me breakfast, and has never mentioned the incident to this day. That got me to thinking that this "Jesus" must be pretty good, because if I had pulled this stuff before he was saved, Kevin would have taken me on in a heartbeat.

Then one night in June, I nearly met Jesus face-to-face. I had just gotten off the air at the station, and had picked up my six month old son, Seth, at his babysitters. His mother was working that night, and I was planning on just picking the baby up, going home and going to bed. We were about halfway back to our home, when I remember lighting a cigarette and then pulling a tape out of the cassette deck so I could listen to my station. I saw a bright light coming straight at me and heard a horn blowing. Not honk-honk, but one long blast of a horn. The next thing I remember was waking up strapped to a bed and not being able to move or feel anything. I knew that whatever had happened to me, it was bad. And I remember being so afraid that I was not going to live, and I knew I was not ready because I would go straight to hell. I couldn't speak very well, but I asked for my brothers, and they were called in. When I saw my brothers, the only thing I could do was cry and say over and over, "Danny, don't let me die. I'm not ready. I'm not ready. Don't let me die." Danny prayed for me, and I know that Jesus was in that hospital room, as real as my brothers were. I accepted Jesus right there, strapped to a bed and not able to move or even wipe my own tears away. I would later learn that I had been in a coma for almost a week, and that my son had died in the accident and had already been buried. I had a broken neck and severe head injuries, my head was shaved and something had been placed in there to relieve blood that was building up on the brain. Even waking up, I was not expected to live. But I did, to the surprise of an entire hospital staff.

The day after I was born-again, my girlfriend Pam gave her life to the Lord, too. Our first thought as new Christians was that we wanted to get married. We had lived together for so long and had never even thought of getting married, not even when our son was born. But we now realized what a sin that was, and it was important to us that we be married. We were, the next month, with me right there in my hospital bed.

The next week brought three different surgeries, including one to replace the two broken vertebrae with part of my own hip bone. After that, progress was slow but steady. I had once been so confident and self-assured, and now I had to have someone give me a bath, brush my teeth, empty a bag that hung off the side of the bed. I was like a child. But you tend to lose all pride when you find yourself in such a shape. Nothing like pride even entered my mind. I was a new creature in Christ, and just so grateful to be alive.

Therapy was started, and at first it was miserable. I got deathly sick if they tilted my bed up too much, and even squeezing the doctors finger was an impossible task. But I prayed and prayed, and slowly began to do things a little at a time. I was sent to a nursing home which had a special unit for spinal cord injuries, and from there, the Lord began working miracle after miracle after miracle. I could do little things at first, and began working on strength and endurance.

From the beginning, Pam (my girlfriend, now my wife) has been my main support. She has sat beside my bed night after night and has read so much of the Bible to me. My favorite verse has become, "Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me". Believe me, when you've walked through that valley of the shadow of death, that verse and all of life itself takes on new meaning.

And my other main support has been Pastor Steve, who has become a real brother to me in every sense of the word. His love, prayers and staying in constant touch with me and all the famiy, it means more that he ever realizes, and I just ask the Lord to bless his life for all that he does for others. He never puts himself first, and his only reward is in seeing the Kingdom of God grow.

The irony to all of this is that I had lived for partying and drinking. It was what I did best and what I enjoyed most. But the accident was caused when a drunk driver collided with a semi-truck, pushing it into my (on-coming) lane and the truck went into my car headfirst. You can imagine that I never want to be around anything to do with drinking for as long as I live. And Jesus, in His grace and mercy, has taken any desire for that out of my life forever. Also, I have not had a single craving for a cigarette. I was instantly healed of all my worldly vices.

Today, I have good days and bad days. I still have difficulty with some things, and Pam and I still grieve for our baby, even though we know he waits for us in Heaven. But in spite of all that has happened, I know how blessed I am to even be alive. Everyone at the hospital and at therapy calls me "the miracle man", and that's just what I feel like. I will never go back on the Lord, even it meant giving up my life. He was so faithful to me when I was so undeserving. I could never thank Him enough or love Him enough in ten lifetimes.

I would like to point out that not everyone is as blessed as I am, and there are hundreds and even thousands of sudden deaths each day. As you read this, please ask yourself, "If it were me, and I was killed in a wreck like that, where would I be one second after my heart stopped beating?" If you don't know the answer, or if your answer would honestly have to be answered "hell", please give anything that is holding you back to the Lord right now. Nothing in this world is worth it. And you might not be so fortunate as to wake up in a room with people who love you and are there to pray with you. You might wake up in a place so full of eternal torture that your death will seem to be the easy part of it all.

If you need help with your decision, contact Pastor Steve. You could find no one better to talk things over with. This ministry is his life, and the life of the ministry is to see souls saved to Christ. Jesus is waiting with open arms to welcome you as one of His own. He was for me, and I was the most undeserving person on earth.

I want to do my part and point as many people to Heaven as I can. And when we're all there, if you read my testimony and it affected your life at all, even if you're already a Christian as you read this, please come up and tell me. I really want to meet you there some day!

MY TESTIMONY (by Pam)

I sat quietly at the table behind the curtain in a little room to the rear of the building. Quietly I colored, as my mother was busy with a client in the front room. I heard the lady asked questions about her late husband, while Mama told her that he was happy, but had left so many things undone. Then she began a chant which she said would contact the husband about sending a sign from the world beyond. I knew better than to make a sound whenever Mama was with her customers. I had been warned repeatedly. And then it happened. I had picked up my water, and somehow the glass slipped out of my hand and fell to the floor, shattering into a hundred slivered pieces, the water running beneath the curtain and into the main room in front. The lady jumped with alarm, and Mama, seeing the liquid flowing toward them in a straight and steady stream, quickly told the lady that her husband had, indeed, sent a sign water, symbolizing a new fresh life, the straight flow indicating moving forward. She told the lady that her husband was telling her to end her grief and begin seeing men again. After the woman left, Mama came to the back room, looking at me before saying a word. You have to be more careful, Pammie, she said. I used your accident to my advantage this time, but the next time I might not be so lucky. She never mentioned it again, but I was more careful from then on.

This was my childhood. The daughter of Sophia, Santa Monica's most insiteful psychic. Sophia was actually Paula, my mother. She was an unwed mother trying to raise a growing daughter. With seemingly no marketable job skills, she earned her living predicting the future for usually miserable, broken-hearted and lonely people who were trying desperately to hold on to or recapture a once-happier time in their life. Mama received her revelations through any means which would seem to be the most profitable palm reading, Tarot cards, crystal ball, trance communication, and an occasional sance for the more well-heeled clients. Before long, Mama's client roster included private readings at the homes of some of the film industries most well-known and influential celebrities.

Ten years ago, as Mama was closing shop after a late night of business, she was murdered on the street where she was parked. The killer was never found, and I've often wondered if maybe she had given the wrong prediction to the wrong person.

Her legacy to me was a lifetime of involvement in the world of the occult. I had learned the tricks of the trade from the best, and as I grew up, I had began to help Mama with her clients. After her death, I moved to San Diego and established my own client-base and reputation, even calling myself a white witch. Soon I found myself working for one of the many psychic hotlines that flood late night television advertising. The hotline business was owned by a radio network, and as a result, I met a man from the radio programming department and we fell instantly in love. And for the first time in my life, I felt loved. We moved in together, and began to share every aspect of our lives. Randy took an interest in my world, wanting to learn how to configure astrological charts, learn the cards of Tarot, and joined me in weekend seances, whether with clients or privately with friends.

In December, 1999, our son Seth was born. I felt a love for our child that I never knew existed. But life had come full circle. Now I was the unwed mother, responsible for the life of this wonderful little human being who had entered our lives.

Randy's family was never pleased with me as his choice. They were cordial, but cold. Randy loves his family very much, and that never changed. But at times, their feelings for me put a distance between them. But in April, 2000, his older brother Kevin became a Christian, and although I was far from any religious beliefs, I could immediately sense a change in his attitude towards me. He made such efforts to be accepting of me, to talk to me, to show concern for me. And he often said to both Randy and me that he was praying for us. Praying itself meant little to me, but his kindness meant a lot. Then in June, the family's oldest brother Dan was also saved. And again, major changes occurred in our relationship. He apologized for any hurt that he had ever caused me. You might be thinking that we were now a happy, united family. But not for me. I could not be around these men. I was very uncomfortable with them. I sensed something in their spirit that was so opposite from my life that we collided like oil and water.

In mid-June, my world came crashing nearly to an end. While I was working one night, Randy, who had gotten off work at 8:00 p.m., picked up our six month old son from the sitters. On their way home, a semi-truck crossed lanes and hit Randy's car head-on. Seth was killed instantly. And Randy hovered near death for over a week. Among the many injuries he sustained, his neck had been broken, leaving him paralyzed and in a coma. I had nowhere to turn. I knew Kevin and Dan had a minister friend, and I got in touch with Pastor Steve, asking him to pray for Randy. At the same time, I promised God that if He would allow Randy to live, I would become a Christian and change my life, beginning with leaving my job as a phone-psychic.

After a week, Randy woke up from his coma. That night his brothers stood over his hospital bed and asked him if he would like to give his life to the Lord. Randy was ready. His brothers prayed with him, and he accepted Jesus right there in the hospital. The next day, Dan and Kevin led me to the Lord in the chapel of the hospital.

Since then, our lives have been a series of miracles. Randy has undergone three operations, the last being a fifteen hour surgery to replace the two broken vertebrae with sections taken from his hipbone. All the surgeries have been an amazing success. He is now off all life support and breathing assistance devices, he has sensation and some movement, and he has been transferred to a step-down unit. They are currently making plans for therapy and rehabilitation, which will begin soon.

I could never tell you what Jesus Christ is doing in our life. Our hearts, of course, have not been healed from the loss of our baby. But even with that, the Lord has brought peace and a certain comfort that comes from the knowledge that Seth is not dead, he simply returned Home a little ahead of Daddy and Mommy. We will all be together forever someday.

If I could share anything from my life experiences with anyone who might be seeking the Lord, it would be don't wait another second. It will not only change your life, it will GIVE you life. Looking back, I had no idea how sad my life was. Jesus is the greatest thing to ever happen to my life, and He has given me my greatest earthly gift he has given Randy's life back to me. We will soon be married. We are waiting for the okay from his doctors.

In closing, I would like to take this opportunity that Pastor Steve has given me to share two things which are on my heart.

First, I feel I should give a warning to anyone who may be involved, at any level, in the world of the occult. Even if it's something as seemingly innocent as reading your horoscope in the daily newspaper. That will only lead to deeper involvement the Tarot, seances, Satanic rituals. Satan does not need a doorway to enter your life; he can slip in through the smallest crack. Shun it, flee from it, and if these things are still a temptation in your path, pray night and day, if you need to, that Christ will take this from your nature.

Secondly, I feel a need to publicly apologize to anyone whose life I have tainted by making predictions or charting astrological signs. And if you're reading this and ever remember talking with Sheena (for security purposes, we were not allowed to use our real names), I beg forgiveness from you. It is fake fabricated from answers you gave during your application interview and these services are taking you for the ride of your life. You pay well for twisted information you provided to us in the first place. God has completely forgiven me but I ask that you find it within your heart to do the same.

I hope that my testimony will be a help to anyone who is involved or thinking of becoming involved in these evil things. Remember, Satan can not buy you unless YOU have put YOURSELF up for sale. Find a safe harbor in the loving grace of Jesus Christ. Satan can not stand in the shadow of the Cross, and you will find love, safety and security as you rest in the shelter of His arms.

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