Often most people in the community say to me, "you have to write a book about your experiences and let everyone know about what happened to you!" So I went to work in 1997, put my nose to the grindstone and churned out a book complete with facsimiles of angels, demons and spiritual planes of existences. Call it what you may, there's no words in the English vocabulary that can describe what's called by many, purgatory, the Kingdom of Hell and Heaven.

I started off with my first vision of demonic manifestation at two. What was impressive and scary at the time was the appearance of Jesus in the same room, standing by the bedroom door, donning a glowing light peach robe, gold rope as a belt, a burgundy cape, long brown shoulder length brown hair and eyes to match. His skin was smooth and off white, a glow emanated around his head. He said nothing, stayed a few moments, then disappeared.

Jesus' reappearance came back when I first turned my life over to God as I understand God to be in a Baptist church at the time. Sixteen years old and hoping to find some answers to living in an alcoholic, abusive home, I asked for a sign that God was indeed listening to me. Upon finishing the prayer of forgiveness, a lightning bolt shot across the ceiling of the room. No one acted differently. I wondered what could have happened. Were they all blind to this light? I went again that evening to the Sunday school church, sat in the back of the room and restated the forgiveness prayer. Again, another lightning bolt shot through the back window, across the room and out of the door. I was just beside myself, not knowing what to think.

That night when I went home, I dressed for bed, knelt down by the side table, closed my eyes and asked again for God to give me a sign that I did the right thing. In the next moment, I saw myself hovering and surrounded in a glowing white light. My eyes were closed, but they appeared to be opened. I wasn't afraid. I felt loved and cared for. This sense of being in a space that was absolutely divine lasted half a minute, which stays with me as a clear memory of God answering my prayer.

When I opened my eyes I was still kneeling at the side of my bed, hands folded and the window opened to the clear night sky. There was no fear present, just a sense of well being and a peace I cannot describe.

Learn more about this author, Gail Labossiere.
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