Chapter 1 - Kowing About God Even Before I Was born

It was a summer day - I was five. My two older brothers were playing with their friends down the street. I finally had the chance to play in the sandbox, in back of our house. I had never been inside the box before, because my brothers usually had their cars, trucks, plastic cowboys and horses in the muddy sand. They gave me a tiny corner for my dolls. That day the sand was warm and dry, so I sat right on top of it, in the middle of the small wooden box, with the sun shining down on me.

As I touched the dry, warm sand and let it run through my fingers, I was surprised at the small crystals and how they sparkled with the sun.   I felt joyful that someone had made these sparkling crystals and put them right here for me to play with. My eyes noticed  how much sand there was and then I saw the edge of the box and how there were   sharp pointed green grass sticking up all around the box. How pretty.  A bird chirped and I  looked for it up in a nearby tree.  I noticed the puffy white clouds on the blue background of sky.  I realized, for the first time in my life, that this world was bright with such a variety of colors.  
    
     A special feeling  came  over me and I wondered,  “Who made all this for  me?”  I knew immediately that my mother would know, so I got up and ran into the house  and to the kitchen, where she was cooking supper and washing dishes.  

  “Mommy, who made the sand and the grass and the trees and the birds and the sky and who made me?”

  A quick answer came: “God did.” 

    “Where is He? I want to go see Him and thank Him for all that he did for me.”

  “God is invisible.  You can't see him.”

   I thought this was strange that I couldn't thank him for all he had done for me.   I stood puzzled and said,   “Why not?”

   “You go out and play in the sand box now and when you are “older” (that word  again) I'll tell you more.”
    
         So, I walked outside with a very sad and frustrated feeling in my heart.  I stood on the front lawn thinking and wondering about God and why wasn't I able to thank Him or see  Him? I'm not sure how long I had stood there, but suddenly I found myself in a  large classroom, with desks and students, with a teacher at the front of the room.  I had never been to a classroom, so I wondered why I was there and why was I sitting in he back row? The students were all older than I, maybe in their late teens.  

    The teacher had written on the chalk board something about God.  Even  though at my young age of five, I didn't know how to read yet, somehow I knew what it said.  Then the teacher asked, 

    “Is there anyone here who wants to know more about God?”  I was surprised to see no other hands going up.   But I wanted to know more, so mine shot up and I kept  saying, “I do! I do!”  The teacher called me up to the front of the classroom.  There were two men who stood in the doorway of the classroom.  

    The teacher  told me that I was to “go with these two men.”  I went with them.  We walked down a long hallway, where they took me to a huge hole in the wall.  I wondered what why it was there. Then I heard a woman screaming.  One of the men said in an excited tone, “She's about to have the baby, we need to get you down there. You need to crawl into this hole. We'll help you get into it.”  I thought  this was a very strange thing.  How was I going to find out more about God by    crawling into a hole? The one man said, “You had better hurry, the baby is almost out.” What was he talking about? What was a baby? Apparently I had no recollection  of what the word meant at the time.)
    
         I finally agreed, so they helped me into the hole, head first.  I began sliding down a long slide-like  tunnel.   It was fun at first, but then I began getting concerned about how long it was going to take to get to the end and what would I find there.  I gently came to the end and found myself in a warm dark place, which seemed very constricting.  I tried moving, but was stuck.  Where  was I? Where is the door to this place, so I can get out of here?  It's so cramped and dark in here.  

         Then I noticed a small bit of light.  Where was it coming from? I began to push and move, so I could get to it.  I thought it was the way back to the hole in the wall.  Why hadn't they told me about all of this? I finally poked my head out of a window of some kind and notice this bright light shining on my eyes. Even with my eyes shut, it was too bright.  
   
        I struggled to get my shoulders and arms free, but once I had, I became very cold.  I tried telling them that it was too cold in the room, but the  only  thing I heard coming from my mouth was a very weird cry.  All of a sudden, I was picked up by someone  and put on a warm surface.  I heard a woman say my name and she laughed.   I was then quickly wrapped in a tight blanket and laid on a hard surface.  Some time went by and I realized I had been wheeled into a room with many others, all crying out to be understood.  None of us were.  A woman came and picked me up and asked me.  “What's the matter, sweetie?” Of course all I could do was cry and try to explain the problem I was having, with no luck at all. I  thought she was going to rescue me from all the crying, but she just laid me back down on a hard surface and walked away.  I continued crying until I heard a male voice.  “You need to go to sleep now and when you wake up, you won't remember any of this.  Things will get better for you.  Stop trying to talk, you can only cry     here.  Just go to sleep now.” So I finally fell asleep. 

       When I woke up, I was standing back on the front lawn, wondering what had just happened to me.  I ran into the house and into the kitchen, where my mother was still cooking. I shouted, “Mommy, I know what happened to me when I was born.”  I  proceeded to tell her the whole story from birth on.  She stood stunned with her mouth open.  I  never did tell her how I knew or how I had gone backward in time and up to heaven, from where we all originate.

   We need to listen to children more often - many have had experiences we never will.