“Hey Sum.”
I heard Jerry’s beautiful baritone voice and felt him standing next to me, soft and gentle. It stopped me in my tracks and the towel I was folding slipped from my hands and dropped to the floor as my knees buckled.
I gasped, then barely exhaled the words, “Hey Jer. How are you doing?”
His heart surgery had not gone well that morning, and I knew he was in a coma. He was out of body and visiting me in spirit.
“I’m okay. I’ll be leaving soon. But, before I leave, I want you to know that I truly do love you, Sum.”
“I know, Jer. I truly do love you, too.”
I could see him in my mind’s eye, his gorgeous white hair glistening with spiritual light, and his posture relaxed, at long last pain free. I was relieved to feel the peace that he had obviously made with his impending death. He was an Evangelical Christian, and was so terrified of death that he had a very difficult time living, certain that God was displeased with him at every turn.
He and I had an often contentious relationship, but the love between us was deep and abiding for decades; in fact, for centuries, as we were still playing out the karma we shared from a previous lifetime together. He was one of my dearest friends, and he was often the first one I would go to when I needed help with a difficult life issue. I could always count on him to be honest with me, and he would always help to strengthen me when I was feeling weak and wanted to give up. Although some might think that we were at opposite ends of the spiritual spectrum, he had the greatest love for and trust in Dr. Peebles, as I had for Jesus.
The vision of Jerry faded away, as his voice trailed behind. “Goodbye Sum,”
“Goodbye Jer,” I whispered.
Soon after, I received a phone call from his daughter that he had passed at 2:22pm on October 27, 2024. At long last he was with his mother, father, brother and so many other beloved people he had missed so much on earth. And, I prayed that he was safe in knowing that God was not disappointed in him at all, but loved him deeply and eternally as He did all of His children.
The spiritual airwaves were awfully quiet after that encounter with Jerry’s spirit. I wanted so much to hear from my friend again. But, months passed by, holidays came and went, and I’d cry as I reached for the phone out of habit to call him in my time of need.
And then, one night as I was slipping into a deep slumber, he came to me so excited, practically dancing in glee.
“Dante’s inferno!” he shouted, jolting me awake.
“What?” I sat up in bed, “Are you okay, Jer?” I could feel his joy, but why in the world was he talking about hell?
“Yeah, yeah, Sum! I’m fine. Listen, Dante’s inferno, hell, whatever you want to call it, it’s a metaphor! It’s a metaphor for a place where everything goes to burn that is not for your highest good. If you don’t do something the ‘right’ way, you’ll burn in hell for it. But, it’s not a place, it’s what you go through as you are learning about a better way to do something. It’s a casting off of old parts of yourself, and it feels like hell! It’s not a place or a punishment, it’s essentially a process of growth! It can feel like hell, but you always emerge victorious. You always return to God’s love!”
“Oh my gosh, that’s so cool, Jer!” I said, my mind blown by what he was sharing with me. His joy was palpable, and he showed me in a flurry of images, like heavenly postcards flashing in front of my face, how glorious it was to be on the other side, pain free, with loved ones, and now at last free of his Christian guilt and fears. He was growing and learning.
“Yeah! It’s amazing, Sum! I gotta go now, but I wanted to share that with you. I love you!”
“I love you, too, Jer!”
There was a swoosh of energy as he left, and I sat with the joyful knowledge that my friend was at long last safe and sound in the deep knowledge of how loved we all are by God, no matter our spiritual perspectives.
