The day looked like any other day. The daily routine comprised attending lectures, writing essays, a bit of reading here and there, eating and finally sleeping. Little did I know that I would be dead in some hours’ time.
Nothing had prepared me for it. I wasn’t sick. I had never died before, so I didn’t know how it feels to be dead.
Why were they so prompt to bury me? As soon as I died, the coffin was ordered. In no minute, there was a big lorry driving towards our home—it was carrying the coffin.
I knew time was up. I frantically pleaded that they don’t make haste in burying me. My cousin was especially decided. He told me, “Dead people don’t talk back. You are dead and you have to be buried—immediately”.
“Nooo!” I protested, “Give me only five minutes. I will resurrect within that time. If I don’t, you can go ahead and bury me”.
I was shaking and sweating profusely in fear. I would accept anything except being buried. How do I free myself from the fangs of death?
My pleas fell on deaf ears. They asked, “Just how do you think you are going to resurrect?” They were reaching out to capture me and put me in the casket. I ran away. I didn’t know how I would resurrect, I only needed ‘my’ five minutes.
It is a terrible thing to die in sin. I wish I could describe the terror and hysteria that accompany the feeling that one is about to be buried—dead in sin.
When I woke up, I thanked God that it was a dream. I had a chance to live one more time. That I will finally face “real death” some day was not a question of “if” but “when”.
Oh, how I wanted to brash it aside as “just a dream”—a meaningless dream at that, just how can somebody dream that he is dead? The more I wanted to forget about it, the more I remembered that I asked for five minutes.
There was no doubt in my mind what the dream meant. I was not willing to get saved and forget about the lifestyle I was leading. I loved women, I couldn’t just let go the girls. It was not in my power to do so, more so when I was not yet married. How was I going to live without sex for I don't know how long. Meanwhile, I wondered how much time in the spiritual realm was the five minutes I asked for.
I finally “resurrected” on the 22nd January 1989—almost a year after asking for the five minutes. I accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as my Lord and Saviour and life has never been the same again. I realised immediately that it was all that I had been looking for. The girls couldn’t fill the vacuum that was gaping inside of me.
Salvation is real. It bothered the devil when I got saved. Think of it! Before I got saved, I used to chase ladies up and down, left and right. Never at one time did a lady offer herself for me on a silver platter. When I got saved, ladies started hunting me down--literally. On two ocassions (at different locations and by different ladies) I had to employ "operation Joseph" when they undressed, ready for me--I ran away.
And since I got saved, God has allowed mountains to stand in my way. He has removed some as He gives the strength to climb others. Wherever I had to “climb” a mountain, He has enabled me “see” things that can only be seen from a mountaintop. On a mountain, one sees far and wide into the horizon. All directions are visible from a mountaintop. Thank God for mountain view.
Daniel - I am so blessed by your writing that I hope to go through all your pieces, and I will post a review as led. This piece is wonderful - no-one can doubt a personal experience! How often we see "Stepping Stones" in the Lord as "Stumbling Blocks"..your article has encouraged me to see the "mountains" in my life afresh - thank you.
Daniel, I love this part of your testimony! Your reference to viewing from the mountain top, reminds me of Hannah Hurnard's book, "Hind's Feet On High Places." Your godly wisdom reminds me of "Myles Munroe".