Jamie Mayes, AOE

Archive for November, 2013|Monthly archive page

Introducing the wordle…

In Uncategorized on November 15, 2013 at 8:57 pm

Wordle: jamie's wordle


The Author Emerges…

In Uncategorized on November 12, 2013 at 10:07 pm

The Author Emerges….

A Visit in Heaven’s Waiting Room

In Uncategorized on November 2, 2013 at 8:28 pm


I hardly ever talk about this story, but it was a defining moment in my life that altered my walk with God. After listening to report after report from people who talk about the near death experience that changed their belief in God, I must explain that I did not have the chance to talk to God, but I had an experience that assured me that heaven is real.

The recollection of our last phone call played over and over in my head during the three days after her death. Shanita, one of my childhood best friends, was a quiet introvert who rarely laced our shoulders with hugs or stroked our egos with declarations of a priceless friendship and undying love. Instead, we were forced to be assured by her presence and light humor that she loved us because we were her friends and family. But during our last phone call, a few days after my 22nd birthday, she called me. We talked about how long it’d been since we’d spoken. I apologized for keeping in better contact with Alexis than her, especially since they were roommates. I pledge to do better. She said it was not big deal. Conversation dwindled and we realized we’d been on the phone for well over an hour. Demands of work and school work came to mind and we brought our call to an end; Shanita told me she loved me. With no hesitation, I blurted out my declarations of the same (which was to be expected, since I have always been the most emotional one of the crew). It was strange to hear her say those words, very strange, but she said nothing was wrong. Her comments repeatedly played in my mind; she seemed different. Softer but sterner. Disturbed yet peaceful. I felt no need to ask any questions. It was the last phone call we would share. 

Shanita  had been dead for three days. And for three days I had laid in the middle of my bed, no food, no bath, answering very few phone calls, feeling shattered about my loss. She was only two blocks from my house when she died. Alexis and I had made plans to go visit her that morning and before Alexis could even roll into town, we received devastating news-she was gone. I was hurt and angry with God and myself. I had not seen her in over a month; visits to her hospital bedside had become increasingly difficult and my mother suggested that I stop going as much because I was becoming severely depressed as I watched my childhood friend, who was once strong and courageous, lay in bed like a weak and helpless child. Guilt fell upon my shoulders as I wondered if she knew how much we really loved her. I felt had not done my job of holding her hand until her last breath; I had let my friend die alone.

Therefore on the third day, just before another mid-day slumber between tears, another list of questions plaqued my mind. I wondered should I have asked more. Did she know our phone call would be the last audible conversation we’d have? Did she know how much I really loved her? Did she really know how much I loved her? My eyes closed and I fell into a deeper sleep than I had experienced since the day I got the phone call. My mind and body felt completely relaxed as a deep slumber overcame me.

Dreams, especially those of symbolic nature, are things of mystery. It is like being between being asleep and awake. It is a cross between the conscious and the subconscious. So, it is difficult to explain what happens between falling asleep and dreaming. I can only recall the details of the dream. I came up on an elevator and arrived in a waiting area with at least one sofa and reception desk, with no receptionist. The room was calm, but not dark and there was an illumination about the room. I stood waiting and moments later I saw something transcending from upward. It was like an elevator but it was blocked by light, until it rested behind two elevator doors opposite the ones I came from. The doors opened and behind them stood Shanita. I could hardly catch my breath as I saw a healthy, happy image appear from behind the door.  Her skin was clear, much clearer than the gray and pink patches I’d seen on my last visit. She wore a dress that was so long it touched the floor. Shanita had constantly complained about the inability to find a dress or pants long enough, because of her height. So, I was amazed that she had a dress that touched the floor. I could barely handle the excitement and as I tried to call her name, my eyes rolled back and I fell to the floor. Shanita walked towards my body which was a limp lump on the floor. I wished that I could get up and talk to her, but I couldn’t; I could only lay there. Shanita stooped down and ran her long slender fingers across my forehead, sweeping the hair from my forehead. In a soft, calm, angelic voice she said, “It’s alright, Jamie.” I hoped that I would wake up and talk to her before she left, but my body never moved. Instead, Shanita rose, and just as beautifully as she entered the room, she returned to the elevator and disappeared.

This dream confirmed so many things for me. My friend was happy. Angels are real. God is real. I had never been a disbeliever, but there were certainly moments when I questioned if I would ever have solid proof God’s existence. Not only is God real, but heaven is real, too. The peace gained was in clearly knowing Shanita was undoubtedly in a better place, and that I never had to wonder about that place again. I had seen evidence of it; I believed in it, and one day I would be there with my friend.

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