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Bob_Crowley
Guest
Thanks for the stories. From what I’ve heard around and about, the business of clocks stopping at someone’s death is relatively common. When my sister died about five years ago, I had this impulse to “Look at the clock! Look at the clock!” So I did. It was 10.23 if I remember rightly. We were shortly going to visit her in hospital again.Bob,
Thanks for those anecdotes. Anecdotal evidence is what materialists lack. However, it doesn’t persuade them to hear it from those who have had the experience.
I have also on three separate occasions felt communications from the dead.
When I was a boy, my great grandfather died during the night. I dreamed he had died. But he died two thousand miles from where I lived.
When my grandfather died about a year later, I saw a faint apparition of him sitting in a chair near me.
When my mother died, the clock on my fireplace mantle stopped at the hour of her death. I didn’t notice it for several hours. Later I tried to wind it up, but it was broken.
None of these incidents is proof absolute of an afterlife. But God manages to hint now and then that He is there for us. Even the atheists and agnostics who visit this website are guided here by the whisperings of the Holy Spirit. The devil’s only recourse is tempting them to believe that we are the fools, not they.
The clock didn’t stop, but about two minutes later her husband rang to say she’d died.
And I agree with your comment about atheists’ arrogance in judging anyone who has a religious bent, or claims spiritual experiences, as being off their meds.
I often get a sense of peace when someone dies, particularly if they’re a Christian that I know. It was very strong when my old Protestant pastor died (stronger with him than anybody else), I don’t always know who it is, but when I ask around I usually find that someone died around that time.
My other experiences have been three “double whammies” (like a breath going through you in waves from head to foot) used to highlight a message being spoken by someone else. I’ve had heavy gripping pressures at night, and a sinister change in the light to a sort of gloomy darkness, despiate the presence of street lights outside. And there are the odd coincidences.
One of the best was when I was debating with atheists on a google site re. NDE’s (Near Death Experiences). As usual I was getting nowhere, so I prayed I might meet someone who’d had an NDE. The experience with my father didn’t count - he was the one who had died, not me.
At the time (about two years ago), I was driving a Maxi Taxi a couple of days a week. About two days after the above prayer, I was sitting in the Cab at Boondall, a suburb not far from Nundah where my father died, although that’s not really relevant to this story.
On the screen a Maxi job came up for a suburb called Brighton. I procrastinated for while thinking someone closer would get it, but when it stayed there I put in for it and got it. It was for a nursing centre callled Eventide a few kilometres away. When I got there I found a bloke about my age, not in good health, who’d only wanted a normal cab. I’d only got the job as a Maxi because of a mistake basically. Anyway he wanted to go to Royal Brisbane Hospital, which was quite a good fare from there.
But we’d only been going a couple of kilometres when he remarked, “I’m one of those rare people”. I asked him what he was talking about, He repiied that he’d been technically dead for ten minutes. We spoke about it on the way to the hospital. He said he could still hear everything that was being said, experienced the usual white light, etc.
But what got me was that he went to the same high school as the eldest son of the very same uncle who’d come to tell me my own father had died.
How’s that for “co-incidence”? Ask a prayer and have it answered in two days, with the job reserved for you by a glitch or mistake, and then find there’s an almost family relationship to the peculiar event when my own father died. And Greater Brisbane has a population of well over a million people.
