My Glimpse of Eternity (7 page)

My father arose, shaved, dressed and had some toast and a cup of coffee. He then woke John. When he slipped out of the house it was about 4:15 a.m. Dad took Highway 41 from Clay City direct to southern Terre Haute and Union Hospital. The drive took him about forty-five minutes. John left a few minutes later for his station.

Shortly after 5:00 a.m. the telephone awakened my mother. She answered in sudden panic. The woman introduced herself as the night nurse on the third floor of Union Hospital.

“Mrs. Perkins, I’m sorry to call you at this hour, but I have bad news. Your daughter, Betty, passed away a few minutes ago. We can’t reach her husband. Will you try and locate him and ask him to come to the hospital as soon as possible to make the necessary arrangements? If Mr. Upchurch can’t be reached, will you ask your husband to come to the hospital as soon as possible?”

Mother pulled herself together as best she could. “My husband is on his way to the hospital right now. Please intercept him before he goes to Betty’s room. Seeing his daughter’s body will be a great shock for him.”

The nurse promised she would be on the lookout for Dad and hung up. Mother lay down on her pillow and sobbed.

In his own words, here is Dad’s account of what happened when he arrived at the hospital:

“It was still dark when I parked my car near the back of the hospital. The time: about 5:00 a.m. There were faint streaks of light in the sky as I walked toward the nurses’ entrance because it was a much more direct route to Betty’s room. I climbed the two flights of stairs and headed for Betty’s room, number 336. Down the hall, I saw the black nurses’ aide leave Betty’s room and close the door. This was unusual; always before the door had been open.

“I knocked softly on Betty’s door. There was no answer. I opened the door and walked inside.

“The room seemed very dark and still. And empty. As my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I first noticed the absence of the life-supporting equipment. Startled, my eyes swung to the bed.

“A sheet had been pulled up over Betty’s head!

“Slowly the facts worked to a conclusion in my mind: Betty was dead. I stood there for several minutes in frozen silence as feelings of grief flooded my emotions. Then all that I felt focused on one word which I spoke several times fervently.

“‘Jesus . . . Jesus . . . Jesus.’

“It was a plea, a moan and a prayer. It was also the only word that ever made sense to me in times of great bewilderment, or pain or sorrow. I don’t know how long I stood there beside the bed. I only remember that the room lightened as the sun began to slip through the curtains.

“Then my eyes were caught by something. Did I see a slight movement in the sheet covering Betty?”

7
The City of Tomorrow

M
y memory of the late-afternoon crisis and the rest of that day is blurred. Dimly I recall a crowded room, slipping into a coma, then coming out of it. I was vaguely aware that my parents left my hospital room first, John sometime later, that Nurse Barton watched me closely before she went off duty, that a young nurse’s aide was in and out of my room during the night.

It must have been sometime around 5:00 a.m. when my body functions apparently stopped, much as they had earlier in the day. Only this time there was no one at my bedside to call for the emergency equipment.

The transition was serene and peaceful. I was walking up a beautiful green hill. It was steep, but my leg motion was effortless and a deep ecstasy flooded my body. Despite three incisions in my body from the operations, I stood erect without pain, enjoying my tallness, free from inhibitions about it. I looked down. I seemed to be barefoot, but the complete outer shape of my body was a blur and colorless. Yet I was walking on grass, the most vivid shade of green I had ever seen. Each blade was perhaps one inch long, the texture like fine velvet; every blade was vibrant and moving. As the bottoms of my feet touched the grass, something alive in the grass was transmitted up through my whole body with each step I took.

“Can this be death?” I wondered. If so, I certainly had nothing to fear. There was no darkness, no uncertainty, only a change in location and a total sense of well-being.

All around me was a magnificent deep blue sky, unobscured by clouds. Looking about, I realized that there was no road or path. Yet I seemed to know where to go.

Then I realized I was not walking alone. To the left, and a little behind me, strode a tall, masculine-looking figure in a robe. I wondered if he were an angel and tried to see if he had wings. But he was facing me and I could not see his back. I sensed, however, that he could go anywhere he wanted and very quickly.

We did not speak to each other. Somehow it didn’t seem necessary, for we were both going in the same direction. Then I became aware that he was not a stranger. He knew me and I felt a strange kinship with him. Where had we met? Had we always known each other? It seemed we had. Where were we now going?

As we walked together I saw no sun—but light was everywhere. Off to the left there were multicolored flowers blooming. Also trees, shrubs. On the right was a low stone wall.

Once years before I had climbed to the top of Logan’s Pass in Glacier National Park, breathing the pure, clean, unused air amidst the snowcapped peaks. There were small flowers blooming even in the snow. My legs had been sore and tired from that climb.

This climb was different. My legs were not tired and I wasn’t aware of any temperature. There was no snow, though I seemed to be in a high altitude. There seemed to be no seasons but it felt like early spring. My emotion was a combination of feelings: youth, serenity, fulfillment, health, awareness, tranquility. I felt I had everything I ever wanted to have. I was everything I had ever intended to be. I was arriving at where I had always dreamed of being.

The wall to my right was higher now and made of many-colored, multi-tiered stones. A light from the other side of the wall shone through a long row of amber-colored gems several feet above my head. “Topaz,” I thought to myself. “The November birthstone.” I remembered this from working in Edwards Jewelry store in New Castle, Indiana, before my marriage to John. November 6th is my birthday.
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Just as we crested the top of the hill, I heard my father’s voice calling, “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.” His voice was a long distance away. I thought about turning back to find him. I did not because I knew my destination was ahead. We walked along in silence save for the whisper of a gentle breeze ruffling the white, sheer garments of the angel.

We came upon a magnificent, silver structure. It was like a palace except there were no towers. As we walked toward it, I heard voices. They were melodious, harmonious, blending in chorus and I heard the word, “Jesus.” There were more than four parts to their harmony. I not only heard the singing and felt the singing but I joined the singing. I have always had a girl’s body, but a low boy’s voice. Suddenly I realized I was singing the way I had always wanted to . . . in high, clear, and sweet tones.

After a while the music softened, then the unseen voices picked up a new chorus. The voices not only burst forth in more than four parts, but they were in different languages. I was awed by the richness and perfect blending of the words—and I could understand them! I do not know why this was possible except that I was part of a universal experience.

While the angel and I walked together I sensed we could go wherever we willed ourselves to go and be there instantly. Communication between us was through the projection of thoughts. The words sung in all the different languages were understandable, but I don’t know how or why. We all seemed to be on some universal wave length.

I thought at the time, “I will never forget the melody and these words.” But later I could only recall two: “Jesus” and “redeemed.”

The angel stepped forward and put the palm of his hand upon a gate which I had not noticed before. About twelve feet high, the gate was a solid sheet of pearl, with no handles and some lovely scroll work at the top of its Gothic structure. The pearl was translucent so that I could almost, but not quite, see inside. The atmosphere inside was somehow filtered through. My feeling was of ecstatic joy and anticipation at the thought of going inside.

When the angel stepped forward, pressing his palm on the gate, an opening appeared in the center of the pearl panel and slowly widened and deepened as though the translucent material was dissolving. Inside I saw what appeared to be a street of golden color with an overlay of glass or water. The yellow light that appeared was dazzling. There is no way to describe it. I saw no figure, yet I was conscious of a Person. Suddenly I knew that the light was Jesus, the Person was Jesus.

I did not have to move. The light was all about me. There seemed to be some heat in it as if I were standing in sunlight; my body began to glow. Every part of me was absorbing the light. I felt bathed by the rays of a powerful, penetrating, loving energy.

The angel looked at me and communicated the thought: “Would you like to go in and join them?”

I longed with all my being to go inside, yet I hesitated. Did I have a choice? Then I remembered my father’s voice. Perhaps I should go and find him.

“I would like to stay and sing a little longer, then go back down the hill!” I finally answered. I started to say something more. But it was too late.

The gates slowly melted into one sheet of pearl again and we began walking back down the same beautiful hill. This time the jeweled wall was on my left and the angel walked on my right.

Then I saw the sun coming up over the wall. This surprised me since it was already very light and there seemed to be no passing of time. It was a lovely sunrise. The topaz and other stones glowed brilliantly. I remember noticing that the wall now made a deep shadow on my side.

Walking down the hill I looked into Terre Haute as the worlds of spirit and time and space began to fuse back together. Ahead of me were many church steeples glistening in the morning sun. I was suddenly aware of God’s love for all His churches. It was a sudden bit of knowledge, as if I were being told this on the inside by the Holy Spirit. At that moment I loved all His churches too; and as my prejudices dissolved, I loved all His people.

Then I saw the tops of trees, then the hospital. My eyes seemed to bore through the walls of the hospital like laser beams, down the hall of the third floor to Room 336. I saw a figure on the bed with a sheet pulled over it.

After my descent I slowed down and stopped. The sun’s rays were in my eyes. There were dust particles in the light which suddenly changed to wavy letters about two inches high flashing before me like a ticker-tape message. The letters seemed composed of translucent ivory, only fluid—moving through the rays of sun.

I was back in my hospital bed now and the letters stretched all the way from the window, past my bed and on into the room. They read:
I am the resurrection and the life; he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live.

The words were so alive that they pulsated. I knew that I had to touch those living words. I reached up and out and pushed the sheet off my face. At that instant the Word of God literally became life to me. The warmth in the moving letters flowed into my fingers and up my arm. I sat up in bed!

No man can claim credit for my healing.
The Lord had sent forth His WORD and healed me
(Ps. 107:20). Days before, the man Art had read this Scripture at the foot of my bed.

Promise became reality . . . hope became fact.

My father was staring at me in a state of shock. I noticed him only for a moment. I was still seeking out the unearthly light in the room, determined to find its source. My eyes went to the window. Outside was a glorious sight—the green grass on the lawn of the hospital. I had been too sick to see it before, too busy for years to notice how beautiful green grass can be.

Then I saw another beautiful sight outside. A black man. He was carrying on his shoulder a case of soft drinks into the building. I had never before cared for black people. Yet I now felt a great love for that man. God was continuing His healing work in me.

At last I looked at my father standing by my bed. He was still stunned, too startled to cry out, or hug me, or shed tears of joy. Rather he was rooted to the spot, struck dumb with awe before the majesty of the working of God.

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1
]. Editor’s note: Betty was later to discover that the 21st chapter of Revelation, verses 19–20, described the heavenly city whose walls were to be adorned with precious stones. The first foundation was jasper; the second sapphire . . . the ninth, topaz. If each foundation was about a foot high, this would place topaz about three feet higher than Betty’s head.