Message From Beyond the Veil

This happened to my eldest daughter on November 6, 1990. This is my journal entry twenty years ago—

Last night something really special happened to Mandee. She was chosen to experience a spiritual manifestation. We were taking turns reading chapter 8 in, A Witness and Warning. We were on the last page, and Mandee was reading a quote from Moroni 9:25-26 (Mormon to his beloved son, Moroni.)

“My son, be faithful in Christ, and may not the things which I have written grieve thee, to weigh thee down unto death; but may Christ lift thee up, and may his sufferings and death, and the showing his body unto our fathers, and his mercy and long suffering, and the hope of his glory and of eternal life, rest in your mind forever.
And may the grace of God the Father, whose throne is high in the heavens, and our Lord Jesus Christ, who sitteth on the right hand of his power, until all things shall become subject unto him, be, and abide with you forever.”

Part way through these scriptures, she looked up at me and smiled sweetly and said, “Oh, you know this scripture.” I can’t remember what my response was. She read a few more lines and said, “You have this memorized.” I was a little bewildered as to why she said something like that twice to me, so I asked her what she meant. She said, “You’re reciting this, so you must have it memorized.”

I wasn’t saying a thing while she was reading, and I told her so. So, she asked if Jason had been (Bill was not home yet, and not expected home until after their bedtime.) Jason had not either, and then she said, “I thought you were whispering what I was reading—the same scripture.”

I wasn’t.

I believe that she was privileged to bridge the veil for a brief moment and have a wonderful, faith-promoting spiritual experience. She began reading again, and kept looking up in bewilderment because she could still hear someone reciting that scripture to her.


The veil between heaven and earth is very thin, and we have but to listen to discover some of its hidden messages.

Don’t forget this, my sweet daughter!

Facing Mortality

A couple years ago, while I lay in a hospital bed, near death from a string of blood clots that passed through my heart and into my lungs, this is the song that came to me when I thought to write about what I was feeling. It's one of my favorites ...

Somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high
There’s a dream that you dream of
Once in a lullaby

Somewhere over the rainbow
Bluebirds fly
And the dreams that you dream of
Do, really do come true

Somewhere Over the Rainbow by E.Y. Harburg

After I typed those words on my laptop, my all-time favorite song came to me ...

I believe in Christ;
He stands supreme!
From him I’ll gain my fondest dream;
And while I strive through grief and pain
His voice is heard: “ye shall obtain.”

I believe in Christ
So come what may,
With him I’ll stand in that great day
When on the earth he comes again
To rule among the sons of men.

I Believe in Christ by Elder Bruce R. McConkie

I believe in Christ! He is not some mystic being that exists to rule over me … but a loving brother, who personally knows me, and loves me.

My mortality
What a journey it is

A kaleidoscope of beauty and love
Mingled with a myriad of trials
All carefully orchestrated for my incredulous growth

My heart is filled with gratitude for my life experiences,
More particularly the ones that have caused me
To reflect on the purpose of life
And the tender mercies of the Lord

As I passed through that new trial, I reflected on some of those experiences …

Near Death, A Choice of Life
Age: 19
Location: BYU Provo, Utah
Date: 1977

I was in the winter semester at BYU, after transferring from USC following the fall semester there, and had for many reasons concluded that life was everlastingly too hard. I was deeply saddened by the events in the world around me, and by the choices of friends, and loved ones. As a freshman 3,000 miles from home, who hadn’t been home for 5 months, I was terribly homesick, too.

Along with that, I was also depressed due to feeling so alone at BYU. I had joined the church at USC, transferred to BYU, and knew very few people. Because I worked the night-shift full-time, I didn’t get to socialize at all. The two students Martha, and Mary, who transferred from USC to BYU with me, had become great friends with each other, and I felt more like a bother to them, not a friend. Martha had a car, and a bank account her father kept up for her, and Martha really liked Mary, and took her everywhere. They never asked me to go with them. I didn’t have a car, and from January to April walked two to three miles each winter night to work, and then walked home in the morning. I barely made enough money to pay for my rent at the Riviera Apartments, and for my own food. I had classes at 10:00 in the morning and sometimes concerts in the early evening (I played in the BYU Symphony Orchestra). I remember a couple of times not going to bed at all, but going from work to school to concert to work …

I guess I had had enough, and one evening deep in thought, I unwittingly willed myself to go home. It wasn’t anything I was attempting to do, it just happened. I lay on my bed at the apartment, and simply asked to come home, back to my Father in heaven, exercising the faith that I had. The faith and the will I had was in conjunction with the spirit. I felt very close to the Lord. I felt a swirling sensation that started from my feet and moved up through my body. I felt like my spirit was leaving my body, and it frightened me, so I stopped it.

I write about it, because it is such a fascinating experience. The faith, the answer, the reprieve … the story of my mortal life continues as such, always being saved from myself.


Unexpected Visitors
Batavia Ohio - Sneed’s Residence
Late 1978 or early 1979
Age: 21

I was about three months pregnant with our oldest son, Jason, when I pulled a string of muscles in my back lifting a small TV. The doctor told me to stay in bed for two weeks while it healed. We left our small apartment in Batavia, and stayed at Bill’s parent’s home on the other side of town. I tenderly remember the loving way Bill’s mother, Shirley, took care of me. One day she peeled a pink grapefruit, broke it into wedges, and sprinkled it with sugar. She brought it in to me. I had never had pink grapefruit prepared like that before, but more especially had not been pampered since I was a child, years ago, by my own mother.

We stayed in Bill’s brother’s room. It was a small bedroom, but we managed to put a TV in the corner, and our three year old daughter Mandee’s sleeping bag on the floor beside us. There was a window across from the bed, and a dresser against the same wall the headboard was against. The bed was alongside the wall opposite the window. I slept on the outside of the bed for easier access both in and out of bed.

I awoke one night to find two men dressed in white standing by my bed. They were not frightening in the least, in fact, it seemed quite natural and not out of the ordinary at all to see them. The one on the left reached his hand out to me, and said, “It’s time to go.” I began to sit up and reach my hand to his, but looked back at Bill, and said, “No. I want to stay with Bill.” I do not remember anything past that. I must have simply cuddled next to Bill, and gone back to sleep.

Was it a dream? If anything had been out of place in that room, I may have wondered so, but there wasn’t. The room was exactly the way it was when I went to sleep that night. I noted that the TV was in the corner, the dresser to my right, Bill on the other side of me, and Mandee sleeping soundly on the floor. There just happened to be two men, dressed in white, standing there, too.

Was it my time to go? Apparently not, but maybe so. Did I have a choice? Perhaps. Was it the same choice that I had at BYU? I think so. And yet, a greater message is woven into the fibers of this experience … I turned to Bill, and chose him.

Dreams and Other Significant Things

What are dreams? Are they the imaginations of the heart, or the soul at play without imposed limitations to restrict it? Do they have meaning—messages from beyond? And what of unexplained phenomenon—has it a purpose? I think, yes. These are some of my life experiences...

1. Being in White
Age: 10 (approximate)
Location: Dairy Farm, Dover-Foxcroft, Maine

Though it was many years ago, I vividly remember the bedroom I shared with my older sister, JoAnn. It was big enough for our twin beds, which straddled the only heat source in our room, a small register in the floor. The square-shaped register had an iron grid top and bottom. At some point we discovered that the top could be removed, and that we could easily fit one of our sneaky heads down into it, and though upside down, could watch whatever T.V. program our parents had sent us to bed early not to see. I often wonder what fear would have gripped my heart if Daddy had looked up and seen my conniving eyes looking down.

Our bedroom had one window that looked out over the meadows, and on to the woods. The room had three doors, one that led down an enclosed stairwell to the kitchen, a short door that opened to a small cubby, and a door to the attic. The attic held a secret of mine as it became the burial place of a small litter of unfortunate kittens, which my tiny hands lovingly laid to rest amongst the soft, pink fiberglass under its worn boards. JoAnn slept in the bed closest to the window, mine was by the attic door. The door that led downstairs to the kitchen was at the foot of both our beds.

JoAnn had stayed late at a friends house and upon returning, decided to sleep downstairs on one of the two couches in the living room. I awoke during the night and went downstairs for a drink of water. I left the door upstairs open. As I ascended the stairs, my eyes beheld a being, all arrayed in white, sitting on JoAnn’s bed, facing mine. I did not turn and run, but quickly surmised the situation. I looked to the register to see if any light from it could be causing the image I saw. I checked the window and the attic door for any signs of light. There wasn’t any, and yet the being remained, eyes fixed on me. He did not do, or say anything. I suppose he waited for my reaction to him. He presented no danger to me—no reason to fear him, but I did. I’m convinced that a staunch Baptist upbringing entrenched in unnatural fear gripped my young heart, of which I sorely regret. I inched my way over to my bed, snatched a pillow, and then hurried downstairs to the second couch with our family dog, Duchess, by my side. I remember no sleep, but prayed for protection for the rest of the night.

Who was that being, and what was his purpose? Why was he entirely white, from the top of his head, to the bottom of his feet? Did he have a message for me, or perhaps a request? Dare I imagine I hold some importance to him somehow? Or was he merely resting, before continuing his journey?

I do know, as anyone would, that he was not of this world—at that moment at least. Perhaps he was an ancestor returning to stir my heart towards spiritual matters, or an angel of God, whose purpose remains unknown for a while longer?

Whatever the purpose, this undeniable fact remains—there is more to life than meets the mortal eye. I bear firm witness of that.

Walking on Water

Don’t you hate it when you have a dream that shocks you awake? The other night I dreamt that Bill and I were on a narrow, well-traveled road. There were other vehicles on the road with us traveling in the same direction, but I don’t remember any coming the opposite way. We all seemed to be moving forward. We were in a terrible storm—heavy rain and wind. I didn’t notice that the road we were on didn’t have any side rails until the wind and rain caused our vehicle to hydroplane off the road and onto the surface of an ocean—pocked with thousands of uniform waves—much like the surface of any water when rained upon. We skimmed the surface of the ocean for about four seconds before I assessed the situation and said, “We’re going to die.” I was shocked awake, and immediately planned our escape from our impending dome (the writer/survivor in me.)

So, I was thinking.

I remember being taught in my youth about the story of Peter. He looked out of his ship and saw Jesus walking on the surface of the water and desired to be with him. Christ told him to come out of the safety of the ship and walk upon the water with him, and with knowledge of the Savior right there in front of him, he took that first step, and then the second, and then the third. I remember as a child being excited to hear that story, I mean, who wouldn’t like to be able to walk on top of water with the Savior? Peter did it, and was doing just fine with his eyes and heart focused on the mark, even Jesus Christ himself, but as he felt the storm around him and looked down, he feared, and slipped into the icy water. I was not disappointed as a child with Peter’s failure, when the rest of the story told of how Christ stretched forth his hand and saved him. As an adult, I see a lot of similarities in my own life.

Faith.

Faith is to hope for things that you can’t see.

I believe in Christ, but even though through faith, I clearly see the mark before me, how easy it is to “look down” and slip into doubt and fear.

How much this life is like walking on water while the storm rages around us, but if our focus is on the mark, even Christ, we can pass through any trial. We can overcome any obstacle, we can brave any storm, but if we do begin to sink, or even get completely submerged in the icy depths of the ocean, Christ is ever there, stretching forth his hand...

I’m walking on water, and I won’t look down.