Angels In The Midst

In September of 1996, I sat alone in my living room; mentally exhausted and severly depressed. I was contemplating suicide. I was in a deep, dark pit and was fueling my own personal bonfire of self-pity and self-loathing. I could not separate my self worth from how others treated me; or how I allowed others to treat me. My worth was in the hands of a very sick and mentally ill man at this time. My husband; antisocial personality wrapped in demonic sadism. The father of my newborn baby girl, Olivia.

This night was very different, however. The air in my living room seem thick and foreign to me. As I sat on my couch with a glass full of water used to dissolve all the pills I could find in my medicine cabinet the strangest thing happened. Two giant Warrior Angels appeared before me. They were on a mission. They wanted me to follow them down the hall towards my bedroom. They wanted to show me, rather, reveal to me something very important. I even understood what area of the room they wanted to take me to. I felt I had a break in my psyche at that point and after a moment of disbelief, I rebuked them. I told them to leave. They left.

I dumped my suicide concotion in the toilet and flushed it. I felt bitterly ashamed and completely alone. I reasoned that what others had always said about me was gospel at that moment. I was insane and they were right. Something wicked was near me, it was attatched to me and consuming me. I was on sensory overload and needed time to heal and process what had taken place. Eventually, I concluded that they had come to prevent me from killing myself. But I knew that was not the purpose of their visit. It was something terrible and dark they were trying to expose and I told them to leave.

A couple of weeks later, on the last day of September 1996 into the wee hours of October 1, 1996 my life changed forever. My husband and I were fighting fiercely, which was customary. During the fight we were standing in our bedroom and he walked over his night stand and pulled out his Beretta 9mm and loaded a round into the chamber. My skin crawled all over me. I knew something was seriously wrong and felt a sickening, gut wrenching awareness envelope me. I stopped fighting. I shut up. He left our home and went to a friends house.

I was sick most of the evening while he was gone. I put the kids to bed after supper, feeling overwhelmed with emotions. I was lying to myself; I did not have the ability to protect my babies though I was convinced I could. I cleaned my already clean house trying to scrub away the dirty, evil I was feeling consumed by. He had gone on a date with a friend who was a girl and I was stupid for not understanding him. Though he had cheated on me repeatedly, I was stupid. Boy was I stupid!

Eventually, around 11:00 p.m., I heard the gravel beneath his vehicle as he came up the driveway. My heart nearly stopped. I knew how he was after drinking and when defending his right to see other women. I knew how he was, period! His eyes were flickering when he came in the front door. Evil danced in those deep black eyes. I was terrified. I was sick.

He began touching me and fondling me aggressively. We went back to the bedroom, though I was very reluctant I knew what was about to happen and I would just keep quiet and still and let it take place and the kids would stay sound asleep. It was only my body! I had walked this road before. When he finished, I was sobbing so hard I was terrified he would see or hear me. That would certainly throw him into an even more violent rage. I went into the bathroom and tried to scrub off the disgust. He hollered he was hungry so I headed up the hall towards the kitchen. I had just crossed through the living room and stepped into the foyer by the kitchen when I felt as if I had been set on fire. Stars were warping past me like a scene from Star Trek. My senses were acute and intense. My mind was reeling. My fist thought was, "I'm going to Hell!"

I pivoted on the heels of my feet and saw my husband standing behind me near our couch and then I saw his handgun falling from his hand onto the couch. I could not process what was taking place. I pivoted back towards the light from the kitchen, because the living room was very dim. I pulled up my night gown and saw a large hole in my belly, with blood gushing from it. Then the realization hit me. He had shot me.

I instinctively fell to the floor. Thoughts flooding my mind. He was a cop and he had been in possession of a taped recording of a 911 call a few months earlier of a woman whose husband had shot her; she took her last breaths on that tape. He would comment on all the mistakes her idiot husband had made during the murder. I knew not to fight. I just played dead. I heard him scurry from the living room and called my neighbor and told her I had been shot and needed her and her husband to come immediately and get my kids. I was certain my children were still asleep and would be safe soon. I then dialed 911. I was calm and was in severe shock, therefore, pain had no set in yet. I told the operator I had been shot in my home. I panicked and then hung up. Terrified he would catch me, but I knew they would have my address and come for my children.

Then they returned. My two warrior Angels. They were revealing things to me, showing me how to save myself. They revealed to me that the ambulance would get lost on the way to my rural location and would arrive after I was dead. They explained that I had to get to my vehicle. I passed out. The last thing I remember was the sensation of being carried. My next memory was of me standing next to my car watching my neighbors run across the yard. Then my husband appeared from the fron door. He was perplexed and mortified to see me standing in the driveway with our neighbors. He rushed back in to get dressed and then came back out to the car. My neighbors went in to get my children.

He put the keys in the ignition of the car and then gripped my hand hard and said, "let's get our f****** stories straight". I knew what he meant and agreed to everything. I knew, from my Angels, I would make it to the hospital. I was violently nautious and I rolled the windows down to take in the bitter cold air, it was welcome. At the hospital I was rushed to the Trauma unit and was inundated with what seem like hundreds of doctors and nurses. They were poking and prodding. They were in a frenzy. The pain was so intense at that point that I was actually begging God to just let me die. I cannot even put into words the assault that was taking place against my spirit, soul, and body at that time.

Then, in an instant, I was standing next to a doctor who was barking out questions. "What's her blood type?" I answered him, "B+". Then he ask another question, and again I answered. But he wasn't acknowledging my responses. I was perplexed. Then I turned around a saw this young woman lying nude strapped down on the table. I felt so a profound sympathy for her. Then I realized, that was my body. At the moment I had that revelation I was translated to another reality. I was still me, the real me. I was so filled with love and pleasure and peace and comfort. This place was a healing place. I was in the presence of Christ. My Angels were still with me and one of them began revealing things to me once again. I understood His name was Michael and that He had been with me my entire life, strictly to protect my health, my life. I know we had indepth conversations, though it was not verbal, it is much more complete and is like downloading a disc onto a computer. I just knew what he was telling me was absolute and truth. Much of what happened there has been taken from my memory. I remember very little about the second warrior Angel, only that He loves me and Has always been with me.

At one point I was told I had to go back. I refused. I begged and pleaded. I was defiant. But, alas, they must have said something that made me want to return. I understood that the choice was mine and I had to be the one who wanted to return. I wanted to return now.

And then I came back. The pain consumed me once again. But I had determined to live! It was all up to me now and I knew it. The priest came in and prayed over me and the nurses removed my jewelry. They were preparing for me to die, again. Because I was a potential murder victim, I was denied any medication that would alter my state of mind; pain meds, until after the police had questioned me. I told them every single word I had been instructed by my husband to tell them. Then I drifted into oblivion.

I woke up in ICU with a zillion gadgets attatched to me. The pain was incredible. I was alive though and thats all I wanted. God had moved my mountain! He looved me beyond and in spite of my own stupidity.

I have never been the same! That is the shortened version (beleive it or not) and I just wanted to share it with you!
joy41 joy41
36-40, F
2 Responses Sep 13, 2012

i believe in such miracles and Joy ,you're lucky to have been saved by your that all that is behind you,i hope real Joy will replace all your sorrows...remember that there is so much beauty in life ! and be grateful for God loves you...

I just wanted to add that while I was in ICU my Mother came to visit me and she had been to my home to get my kids. She ask me how I possibly traced my bloody handprint so high along the roofline of my house siding going down the steps from the front door. I was perplexed and then realized it was not possible for me or others to reach that high. I realized that, in fact, I was carried to my vehicle by my Angel!