From Near-Death-Experience To Prophetic Artist
As March 2025 approaches, I find myself reflecting on an experience that forever changed my life. It’s been 25 years since my near-death-experience – a time that began with a normal day, and ended with an encounter beyond anything I could ever have imagined.
On the bright Spring Sunday morning of 26th March 2000, I was 7 weeks pregnant, carrying our baby. Just eight months earlier, I had suffered a heart-breaking miscarriage. My husband, Brian, and I had just arrived at church with our two young daughters, and the meeting had started with announcements and a baby dedication.
We would normally take it in turns each week as we’d sit with our young girls in the creche, and today Brian went with them while I stayed in the church service. As the first worship song began, I stood up to sing and was suddenly overcome as the most terrible sensation swept over me. It started in my lower abdomen – an intense, gripping pain, and I started to feel very sick. I felt that something was very wrong whilst still feeling calm, and as I looked around at everybody worshipping, I started to feel shaky. Immediately the thought came to mind which I now believe was the voice of God speaking to me, “Go to the hospital, now - get Brian and the girls.” I immediately got my things and left the auditorium, and very carefully started to walk down the staircase feeling sick and shaky. I met one of the church leaders on the stairs who asked how I was, and I explained that I didn’t feel well and was going to the hospital. “Maybe you should just rest on the sofa?” he suggested, meaning well as he tried to reassure me, but deep inside I knew I had to go and not ignore the sense of urgency I was experiencing. I politely declined and asked him if he’d call my husband and girls for me. There was no obvious signs of miscarriage, so I presumed it was something else.
Bless Brian, he didn’t question me at all but just got us all in the car and drove us to the nearest hospital. As we drove the short journey I started to feel worse with weakness, hot and cold sweats and difficulty focusing. As soon as we had arrived I told Brian to let me out at the entrance of the Accident & Emergency Department whilst he looked for a place to park, and I carefully stepped out of the car. I looked over and I saw a woman who was a paramedic standing by an ambulance. As soon as she saw me, she asked if she could help and rushed over, kindly taking my arm helping me into the hospital.
I sat on a chair trying to get to grips with what was happening to me. The nurse came over and I explained that I was 7 weeks pregnant and experiencing terrible stomach pains. She gave me 2 paracetamol tablets and seemed quite relaxed, explaining that there was a bit of a wait as all the doctors were busy, and that I’d be seen as soon as possible. But the pain just grew worse, and I was given a cubicle to wait in as I moaned in agony frequently pressing the button for someone to come and help me. Brian and the girls were with me, and I was doing my best to just cope with the pain, but it was so difficult. I was feeling nauseous and had been sick a few times – perhaps I had food poisoning. My brain was trying to figure out what was going on while, at the same time, I was trying to keep on top of the now excruciating pain. I knew I needed to focus and use all of my mental strength to cope with what was going on. We had arrived at 12.00 midday and it was now 1:15pm, so I asked Brian to take the girls to the canteen for some lunch. After they left it was a moment of relief as I could now focus fully on myself. By this time the pain had got to its worst point, I was still having hot and cold sweats, and feeling faint and dizzy.
As soon as I saw them leave through the double doors I prayed silently “Please, Jesus, help me!” and that was when everything changed….
At the peak of this unbearable pain, dizziness and overwhelming weakness it seemed as if I was watching an old black-and-white TV screen shutting down, shrinking smaller and smaller until everything faded into total blackness. Medically, I now understand this was my brain’s response to extreme blood loss and oxygen deprivation. As my body struggled to survive, my vision narrowed, my veins collapsed, and my brain began shutting down caused by a lack of oxygen reaching the visual cortex as I finally lost consciousness.
Instantly I was aware I was somewhere else. I was standing upright instead of lying on the hospital bed. All the pain, fear and surrounding noise of the hospital had gone. Time seemed to stand still as I stood in total blackness. “Have I died and gone to Heaven?” I seemed to speak out from somewhere inside myself. Somehow, I had communicated those words but it was with my thoughts, and not actually verbally. I was trying to make sense of where I was. I felt a pulling sensation by my stomach and I looked down and saw a bright white light drawing me upwards. As I was being drawn up there was a feeling that felt like pure electricity, almost static – this is the only way that I can describe it! I felt wave upon wave of the most immense love, peace, joy and happiness that I had ever experienced, wash over me. There was also so much love coming out of me for the Lord, and I was worshipping Him in the purest way - without even trying, but it was just coming out of me from every fibre of my being. I was so happy and didn’t want to leave that place. I was being drawn up further towards the brightest white light. Everything in me desperately wanted to get to the source of the light which was the brightest I had ever seen. It was a feeling of longing as though I was coming home. I recall asking “Lord, is this my time?” as I was still being drawn up, and I heard the voice of God speak again to my heart saying “Brian and the girls,” but still everything within me was longing to go to that bright light which I knew was the Lord God, my Heavenly Father. Again, the voice came back to me, gently but firmly “Brian and the girls!” and the next thing I knew was that I was lying back in my physical body again. Although my eyes were shut, I was able to see several figures around my bed which I instinctively knew were ministering angels. I watched them for a short while and then opened my eyes. With my eyes opened I was not able to see the angels, so I closed them again and saw them once more. As I opened my eyes for the second time, I saw the familiar hospital cubicle and felt the pain again, but this time I was also finding it increasingly hard to breath. That clear voice came to me again “Press the emergency buzzer - the nurse will come to you this time.” Up until then I had pressed the buzzer numerous times but no one had come, but I was assured now that the nurse would finally come to my aid.
I saw the nurse on the opposite corridor as I called out to her for help. As she approached me, I managed to tell her that I was finding it hard to breath. She sighed as she looked at me, probably thinking that I was fussing unnecessarily, as she took my hand and looked at her watch to take my pulse. Within a few seconds her countenance changed as she hurriedly pressed an alarm and the loud siren rang throughout the department as everyone rushed around in preparation for the emergency. The nurse tried to come across jovial, probably trying to reassure me, as she said with a hint of panic in her voice “Oh you’re drop dead gorgeous, aren’t you?” as she hurriedly wheeled me through the open doors to Resuscitation, where suddenly doctors and medical staff had gathered to receive me.
“I’ve just been in the presence of the Lord” I declared joyfully to a doctor as he examined me, finally relieved to be receiving help and to be taken seriously. He looked at me strangely, probably wondering what I was talking about and why I was so happy in the face of trauma. He then told me that they believe I’d suffered an ectopic pregnancy with internal bleeding, and that I needed immediate emergency surgery. Bearing in mind that I had just had the most amazing spiritual experience (nothing could take that away from me), the joy was sustaining me, and I felt no fear. Repeatedly they tried to locate a vein in my arms and neck so I could received IV fluids but, unfortunately, my veins had shut down. After a while after repeated failed attempts to secure a vein, I experienced my body starting to go into strong uncontrollable convulsions. I instantly heard the now familiar voice of the Lord speak to my heart assuring me saying “They will find a vein now.” Instantly, the doctor successfully found a vein in my leg, and was able to hook me up to the IV fluids. At that point Brian and the girls had entered the room. I turned my face to look over to them standing there. I can still picture Brian standing by the door holding our older daughter’s hand whilst carrying our younger daughter, and a tear rolled down my cheek as the full weight of what was happening finally hit me. I was then taken to Theatre where they performed an emergency operation and was given two blood transfusions. I was later told upon waking up from the surgery that I had lost precisely 2.5 litres of blood that had gathered internally from the ruptured ectopic pregnancy, and that a fallopian tube had to be removed. I was also told that it was unlikely I would have more children.
Thankfully, after returning home soon after, I had a very swift and blessed recovery, although the weakness continued for a few weeks. I would often listen to worship music and be taken back into that amazing place of worship and praise. It was so beautiful, and I was so thankful to be alive with my awesome family. We truly do have an amazing, miracle working God, as 3 months later I became pregnant with our third child, and then went on to have our fourth child a few years after (which was an amazing pain free supernatural childbirth!)
Afterwards, whenever I would listen to worship music I would feel the same overwhelming joy, love and peace that I had experienced as I lost consciousness that day. It’s as if worship is my doorway into God’s presence, and it allows me to encounter Him again in a very deep and intimate way. It wasn’t just a memory of what had happened once, but it became a living encounter that continued to shape my faith in the Lord. One song in particular became so significant to me – “My Jesus, My Saviour” by Darlene Zschech and Ron Kenoly. Every time I’d hear it and sing it, it was as if I was back in Heaven again worshipping the Lord with all my heart, soul and being, whilst receiving His peace, love and joy all over again.
Shortly after we felt led to home-school our children continuing for 18 years, and then started a small business from home making preserves, sweet treats and crafts, so I never really had the time or space to fully unpack what had happened to me that day in March. However, I knew, without a shadow of doubt, that my life had been miraculously saved by the Lord. The way He clearly spoke to me giving me instructions, assuring me of what to do and what was going to happen next, was truly remarkable and reflective of His Majesty and faithful love for me. It was only the other day whilst reading my journal entries from that time, that I began to reflect fully on it all as researched my symptoms and experiences. Interestingly, I began to reflect on how my journey as a prophetic artist had been deeply influenced by my incredible experience of Heaven.
Last year, as I returned to my childhood passion for painting, I found that my art began to carry the same themes and emotions that I had experienced in that Heavenly encounter and throughout my life experiences. In particular, my spontaneous prophetic paintings are an expression of that deep profound connection with the Lord, as I often pray before painting and listen to praise and worship music as I paint, asking the Holy Spirit to lead me. I believe this is an act of worship in itself, and even in my earlier paintings whilst being tutored, although they were more structured in composition and planning, I still dedicated them to the Lord. Just as singing would transport me into God’s presence, painting has become another way to step into that same intimate space of expressing my love for Him whilst encountering His love for me.
I may never fully understand the magnitude of what happened to me that day in March 25 years ago, but one thing is certain, it showed me the reality of an eternity Heaven which I always believed to be true, but never experienced until that day.
However, this journey hasn’t been without sorrow. Grief has featured in my creative process. After miscarriages and losing my brother 6 years ago, and other loved ones, I’ve had to allow myself to grieve. To me I have come to accept that no matter how hard, grieving is something that can be walked through and faced as a very real part of life. One particular piece called “Joy Comes In The Morning” was painted during the month of remembering my dear brother’s death. Some of my most personal works reflect the hope of being reunited with loved ones in Heaven, a promise that brings comfort in the midst of loss. Through art I have been able to express my emotions from loss, as well as the joy of knowing the reality of Heaven and personal relationship with the Lord.
As I approach my 25th anniversary of my near-death-experience I find myself with a deeper revelation of all that took place. Before the painting started there was worship – a longing to express what words could not. Over the past year that expression has taken on colour and form, growing into something beyond what I could ever have imagined as my art has become an extension of that worship.
As this milestone approaches, I am reminded that this journey is not just about art, but about worship, responding to His call and timing, and about sharing the love of God through creativity. I am so thankful to be able to share my very personal story with you in detail today.
Thank you so much for taking the time to read my blog, and for being part of my journey. I hope you are left feeling inspired and blessed too.
With love,