The Only Thing You Can Take With You

The Only Thing You Can Take With You

by Betty Malz

Transcribed from the original recording; may contain errors.

I’m here tonight with a pitiful hairdo, but I’ve got a fancy story. David failed to tell you that I’m an investment expert, too. My message tonight is on investments. A while back, I engaged in pillow talk with my husband just before falling asleep, and I said, “I’m tired of being poor. I want to be rich.” He said, “Go ahead. When it happens to you, it happens to me.”

We both got the same last name. Two days later, would you believe, fate would have it, a man knocked on our door. He said, “I have an investment opportunity for the two of you, if you’re interested. I already have three couples that have invested. We’re going into Kentucky and sink an oil well. And if you are interested, we will sell you the last fourth of this investment.” Well, we didn’t have much, but we sold our second car, took everything out of savings and gave it to that man. And two weeks later, he called. He said, “I have wonderful news for you. Get here as quick as you can. We have a gusher. Today, we have already pumped 80 barrels of oil.” Now, I’d never seen an oil well come in. When we arrived there, we pulled up beside that rig. And he explained to us they had a leak around the bushing, whatever the bushing is. And that black stuff was spraying sideways and up. And it was all over the car, all over the windshield. It was all over my white blouse, all over my sunglasses. But it felt so good to be filthy rich. I didn’t mind one bit having that stuff all over me. It felt so good. We watched this until quite late.

And finally, we decided we needed to get some sleep. So we went to an old second-rate motel. Now, remember, we weren’t in the money yet. And we could not fall asleep. It was so exciting. I remember laying there, and my husband said, “The first thing I’m going to do, I’m going to the store and buy a large bar of soap.” Now, my husband wears a size 14 shoe and a 13 ring. So you know he’s a big one. And he said, “I’m going to buy a large bar of soap. I am sick of using these little motel dinkies that you bring home all the time.” And I said, “And I’m pulling up to a full-service gas pump. And I’m going to act prissy. And I’m going to say, ‘Fill her up.’ No more pumping my own gas.” Yes. And we talked. And I said, “You know, another thing I’d like to do. Our dogs, our collie dogs, have gagged on generic dog food for years. I’m going to buy Alpo. We’re having Alpo.” About that time, our youngest daughter, April, came through the door. And she says, “And Mother, I have a request. Now that we are rich,” she said, “we have used this cheap scraper paper. Could we have White Cloud toilet tissue?” Yes, we’re going to buy that expensive stuff.

And we planned. We dreamed. I mean, this went on until it was almost ridiculous. Finally, we decided we better go to sleep, get some sleep. And we did. The next day, we went by and talked to the crew, and then we went back home to make a living. About three weeks later, we got a telephone call from Mr. Miller. He said, “Folks, I have some bad news. One of the other leases have slant drilled under our lease, and our vein of oil has dribbled from a gusher to just… It’s waned until it’s just a trickle now. Rather than to go in debt, we’re going to send back the equipment.” And it was not a strong vein to begin with, or it could have stood, this pressure coming off the other rig. But he said, “We are going to send the equipment back and dismiss the crew. But take heart. We do have some proceeds, some net profit, and we’re going to divide it four ways. And after all the bills are paid, you’ll still get a check.” So we waited, and several days later, we did get a check in the mail. When it arrived, my husband kept saying, “Hurry, I had the letter opener.” He could hardly wait. And we opened it, and when I looked at it, it was for $2.34.

I didn’t even cash it. We put it in a little green frame at home, and every once in a while, when one of the kids complain about being poor, we point to this little thing, and we say, “We used to be rich.”

It seems that God… I’m still not rich. I get a royalty check every August, but have you ever tried to budget your money for one year? I go to prisons and high schools and to the terminally ill, and I talk to nursing homes. And of course, you can’t set up a book table. You give away hundreds of books and tapes. And my husband was pastoring a wonderful church in Dunedin, Florida for three years, and these people treated us royally. August, the middle of August, he took a foreign missions assignment for $100 a week. And now we’re poor again. He’s going back and forth to Russia, going to the Ukraine. One day, before I leave, I’ll tell you some of the wonderful things that he has reported to me. You would think I would have learned a lesson, but I didn’t. My brother in Houston, Texas, talked me into investing in some quarter horse stocks, some good bloodlines with quarter horses. And I love training my own colts. I have done this for a while, and so we never broke even. We lost money on that deal. Then I had a man in Tampa talk to me. He said, “You have some good Belhaven collies, purebred collies. You need to get into the show business over at the Tampa Stadium.”

“Get into the collie dog shows, and you’ll make a little money. Breed your dogs and market them and make some money.” Well, every time somebody would come with a little kid that would pet those dogs, and they would say, “Please.” And I would tell them, “They’re $135.” “Oh, no.” Their dad couldn’t afford it. And they would cry in the car. Of course, I’d say, “Wait.” I’d go stick a puppy in the window. I lost money. Lost money on the collie dogs. And I guess I’m determined to be poor the rest of my life. But you know, I found out he is rich, he was satisfied. And success is finding a need and filling it. And one day, I had an experience. And it all began when everyone has a story like that. But I have never, never liked people. And I want to qualify this because I want you to know who I am. I cannot be any ammer than I am. And I’m not going to put on any airs while I’m here. I’ve learned that a person is rarely good at anything they don’t have a little fun in doing. And I’m going to have fun in front of this microphone while I’m here. But I want to confess to you, I never liked people.

I was overexposed to people. My father was camp chairman. And every summer, we were overexposed to campers. And he pastored a church. My father was an old-fashioned revivalist. Our revivals lasted six weeks. Sometimes they would go on seven weeks. We did not rest on Saturday night nor on Monday night. And guess where the speakers stayed? Not at the motel, not in a camp cottage like the nice place I’m staying. They stayed at our home. Mother and I took care of them. And they slept in my bedroom. I kept a diary one year when I was 17. I got to sleep in my own bed 66 nights that one year. That was a highlight. So I was overexposed to people. I never liked people. But I had an experience that turned all of this around. And let me explain. My mother and dad at the time were pastoring a small church in Indiana. I had two brothers married and I had two kid brothers. And mother and dad and the two kid brothers wanted very much to come to Florida for vacation. We had never been here before. My husband owned a Sunoco service station. And I had a six-year-old daughter. And we all decided we deserved vacation. We had no hospitalization insurance. We had no money for this trip.

So we borrowed it. And we prayed that God would give us a safe trip and a healthy one because none of us really had the money for the vacation. I have to tell you that I took a credit card, went to Maas Brothers and charged two new swimsuits so that I could really have a good time. We arrived here in the middle of June. And every motel on Clearwater Beach was full. We finally met a man at registration in one of the motels. He said, “I know of a little place north of Clearwater at Crystal Beach. It belongs to a church. And since one of you are a minister, you could stay there for $7.50 a night per room. And that’s the only place I know that has an opening right now because it’s… all the kids are here going to Disney, going to Clearwater to swim.” So we arrived that night and we got a room. The following day, we went out at low tide and took an army raft and at a sandbar at Clearwater Beach, I’ll never forget, we got 122 sand dollars. We had a wonderful time. We were all very sunburned, very tired from water skiing and we just couldn’t get enough of that good warm sunshine. All of us were very sunburned until we could hardly find a comfortable place to lie still.

But they all fell asleep out of fatigue but me. I began to vomit. I was very, very sick. Now, I had never been sick. As far as I can remember, I had never, ever taken an aspirin. I’ve never had a headache and I had never been in a hospital only to have a baby. That night, I became so very sick. I vomited many times and finally, my husband went into the other part of the lodge and awakened my dad. I confess to you at this point, though I was a married woman with my own family, my father was my pastor. He also did a lot of my praying for me. When I got in a bind, I always called my dad. And I was not a heathen. I found Jesus as my Savior at the age of 13. But I was real busy establishing a home, a family, helping my husband with his business. And I was working for a jewelry store. At this point, I remember how desperate I felt and how very sick I was. And I could not cope with pain or sickness because it was all strange to me. This frightened my husband. Mother took care of my two kid brothers and my daughter. And my dad and my husband got me in the back seat of the car.

And we started toward Alternate 19, the highway. I remember my husband asked my dad, “Which way?” He said, “I have no idea. I don’t know where a hospital is. Just turn left. Start north and drive too fast. Maybe the police will stop us.” Well, they did. We got arrested for speeding. That’s what we wanted. My husband said, “We have an emergency. My wife’s very sick. Take us to the nearest hospital.” We got a police escort. When we arrived there, I looked at that dinky little Tarpon Springs Hospital. Now, they have since remodeled it and it has become Helen Ellis Medical Center and it’s bigger now. But that night when we arrived there, it was very small. The red brick part that you see was all there was. And I told my husband, I said, “Man, our library back home’s bigger than this. Don’t take me in there.” And then the emergency crew came out with a wheelchair and I said, “No way I’m riding in that chariot.” I had a private disdain for handicapped people. And my father prayed for the sick at church and there would be a long line of sick people come for prayer. And I used to whisper to mother many times, “You know, a lot of those old ladies just want Dad to hug them and feel sorry for them.”

I could not, really, I could not identify with suffering or with sickness. But I was about to get a very good education on that topic because about the time I got into the emergency drive and they brought this wheelchair, I had a horrible pain again, doubled over and began to throw up. And I relaxed and that wheelchair looked pretty good to me about that time. Then when they wheeled me into the emergency room, the doctor that arrived was Dr. James B. Thompson. He was too young and too good looking to know his business. And I looked at this tall, skinny doctor and I whispered to my husband, I said, “Man, he’s too young. He probably wouldn’t know what’s wrong with me.” My husband said, “And he poured in a storm. Let’s see what the man has to say.” Well, I remember relaxing and they took a urine specimen. They took a blood test. He took some x-rays and then he gave me a shot for pain. He said, “I’m going to have to put you on a cot in the hallway. We’re really in a bind here tonight. I’m just an intern and I’m the only one on duty. We have 24 beds. I have 26 patients. Two of them are women in labor to have babies and I’ve never delivered two babies at once.”

And he said, “I’m just looking at your complexion and your eyes. You have green complexion, yellow eyes, and you seem tender in the right side. I would say you have an emergency appendix attack. But we’ll see.” He gave me a shot for pain and went in the lab. When he came back, he said, “We’re really in trouble. I cannot do it here. So I have called ahead to Morton Plant Hospital in downtown Clearwater. Dr. Black, a very fine surgeon, has talked with me on the phone and he promises to be there in 30 minutes.” We got in this ambulance and oh no, they turned on the siren, they turned on those flashing lights which announced to the world that I was sick and infirm and weak and I had always been very strong. Now let me qualify a little bit. I want to talk about who you are at this retreat too. I have never been real brawny or athletic looking but I’ve always been wiry and very strong. I have been 5 foot 12 since I was 12 years old so I played women’s basketball. I wasn’t good but I was tall and I had a lot of drive, a lot of energy. This night I didn’t know who I was in this emergency vehicle screaming down the highway toward Morton Plant.

My father had prayed and asked the Lord to heal me and God did not answer that prayer. I was getting sicker and by the time we got at Morton Plant Hospital my vision was blurred and I was sort of in and out of consciousness. When we arrived there, Dr. Black was a little older and I was encouraged. He began to examine me and he said, “That intern up at Tarpons made a dreadful mistake on you. He would have ruined your vacation. Your appendix area is not even swollen.” He said, “I’m glad you came to us. Your blood test shows you have some peritonitis, which indicates that you Yankees get sick up north and you come down here and get too much sun and it makes you worse. We can treat you with antibiotics. We’ll have you back out on the beach in two days, I guarantee.” Now that’s the doctor that I wanted to hear. When you don’t have insurance and have never been sick, you don’t want to go to the hospital. My family was mad at me. We had two weeks vacation and I ended up 24 hours after we arrived here in the hospital. The next morning I was not better. The doctor that was on duty came in and he said, “I believe we have a serious vaginal infection here.”

“It has been aggravated by this hot weather and we’re going to increase the antibiotics.” We’re going to put you on an irrigation system. They hooked me up to IVs and began to flush my system with some very high powered drugs for infection. I did not get better but I got worse. I have always been too tall and too skinny but I was swollen very badly out like this by the 11th day. At the end of 11 days I was blind with toxic poisoning and in and out of consciousness. They called a specialist from Tampa General and he looked at the doctor that had been attending me. He said, “I hope you realize this woman is sick.” After 11 days this is quite a statement, and he said, “She has a tubular pregnancy,” and on the sheet I could not see it because my vision was gone, but he took a magic marker and showed my husband what the right tube looked like and he began to draw a diagram. He said, “We must operate immediately. According to her size, her high fever, 103, 105 fever, and the swelling, I would say we’re looking at a 4 month dead fetus. It’s very serious. We’re talking about gangrene and unless we operate immediately she will not be here but a few hours.”

My family was very frightened. We were on vacation. Three doctors had three different diagnoses. At this point they signed a release, my family, mother and dad and my husband. They put me on a jet plane, flew me back to good old Indiana where I had come from, and they sent me directly to the same hospital where I was born as a baby. I felt very comfortable. This was a hospital where I had been born. I had a feeling I was going back there to die, but I at least knew a couple doctors and one nurse that was a neighbor of mine. And I felt safe that I was going back at least to die back in my own territory with relatives. Also, tonight I have fond memories of camp. The camp meeting by this time was in session over the 4th of July at Hartford City, Lake Placid. And when I arrived there, everyone assured me that they were praying for me at the camp that I would be healed. And I could plan on the Lord intervening in a very supernatural way and that I would be healed. I remember when they rushed me to emergency surgery, they called a gynecologist and a surgeon, thinking that I had a four-month dead fetus, a tubular pregnancy.

And they operated. In intensive care, I recall they talked to my parents and my husband and explained that the first little intern at Tarpon Springs was right. It was a ruptured appendix 11 days ago, and there was no hope that I could live. This doctor explained to my family that he had lost 200-pound men in 48 hours with a ruptured appendix. But I had survived 11 days with a ruptured appendix and gangrene, and I had only 120 pounds of body weight to fight that infection. But he explained, “We are not going to even sew her up. We will leave her open to drain. We’ve had to make three incisions for a very serious bowel block.” And the doctor explained to my husband that all of my… He called them innards to my husband. Have all started to disintegrate. Now, in common language, that means rot. And he explained that I had a serious bowel block of four days. If, by some remote chance, I would live, they would have to do a colostomy, and I would carry a bag on my side for the rest of my life. It was a very serious mistake that they had made in the hospital in Florida. I remember at this point when they began to talk this way, I’ve always enjoyed playing tennis.

I love to swim. And I’ve always trained our quarter horses myself. I could not see functioning as a living person with a disposable bag on my side the rest of my life. So I prayed to die. The Lord did not answer that prayer either. I lived, but I did lapse into a coma that lasted the greater part of 44 days. I would never want to go through that again, but I have to tell you tonight that 44 days in a coma was probably the greatest learning experience of my whole life. I have a great love for the medical profession. Nurses and nurses’ aides and doctors fought for my life, and they went the second mile. I am glad you have no labels here at Camp Farthest Out. I had never attended any church but the denomination that my father pastored in my whole life. I was learning that there were children of God in all denominations that had known Jesus in a very personal way. I had no idea. But I met a Catholic sister and a Catholic priest. They came to see me almost every day. They were born again, spirit-filled, and they knew how to love people and how to pray. I was so amazed at the very wonderful private way they had embraced Jesus and had a compassion for people who suffered.

I have to go on to explain to you, though, I had some other strange visitors. Charisma without character produces chaos. I had a young evangelist from the campground that came, and he decided he was going to heal Betty. And he walked in the room and took over. He did not anoint me with oil with a drop on the forehead, but he took a whole bottle and poured it on top of my head. Now, I was a very proud, haughty person. And all I could think of when he did this was, “Oh, no, my hair is going to be so greasy.”

And it was. It went all in my hair. It went in my ears and down my neck. And when you’re unconscious, you know all of this, but you can’t respond. You cannot do anything about it. I’ve always been in control. Had a lot of self-confidence. I came from wonderful, godly people. If they could not do it for me, they would fast and pray till God did it for me. But this was a situation where I was out of control. Totally out of control. And here this young man came in. He put his hand on my head, and he vibrated my head. He was going to shake life into me. And I’m not making fun. Please don’t misunderstand. I appreciated every bit of energy he put into those prayers. And I wish I had that vitality that he had that night when he prayed for me. And I appreciated him so much. But I have to tell you the variety that God was giving. What an education I was receiving. And it wasn’t free, folks. Without hospitalization, every day was costing a lot of money. But it was the greatest learning experience of my life. I have to tell you about some other visitors I had. Now, three ladies from a circle, from a church. A snooty church in our community.

And I won’t tell you which one. But they came to visit. And they brought a plant and put it over on the side. And then one said, “Did you fill out the visitation report so we can get credit at the circle?” And the one said, “Oh yes, I did that in the car.” And then they began to talk about where they would have lunch. Now, here I was for over a month on a stomach pump. I would love to have had food. I had not had anything to drink for over 40 days. I had 105 fever. And they were talking about the goody shop. What they would have for lunch. What they were going to drink. One was going to have Chinese food. And all I had was intravenous feedings. And this tube that was gagging me. Where they would pump my stomach from this green bile. And then the one old lady said, “Man, I got to get out in the hall. It smells so bad in here.” The one says, “Yeah, well take a look. Said they never sewed her up. They let that green stuff boil out. Her mother said they just take peroxide and pour in the holes. And then they remove the gauze whenever it gets full. Yeah, it’s awful.”

“Doesn’t she look awful? If they would just pray for me. If I could just feel your presence.” One old lady came over, took a Kleenex. And she wiped my forehead. And the sweat was popped out on my forehead. And she said, “Lord, give her a peaceful hour in which to pass.” Well, they had signed my death certificate. And I guess everyone knew I had no chance. And they talked very freely about the fact that I could not live. And if I lived, I would always be blind. And I would never have other children. I’d have brain damage. I would carry a bag. I mean, they told a lot of horror stories. Let me tell you about Joan and Charles. They played tennis with my husband and I. And they came to visit. And he said, “Joan,” as they came in the door, “did you turn off the sprinklers?” She said, “Chuck, you told me you would turn them off.” “No, you’re lying.” He said, “I’d ask you to.” She said, “Shut up. You’re going to make Betty worse.” He said, “She’s out of it. She can hear us.” She said, “Well, why do we come then?” He said, “To bring the plant.” “Plant?” She says, “Oh, I guess we left it in the car.” So one of them went and they got the plant.

Now, they were talking about the sprinklers. When I had not had anything to drink, had a 103, 105 fever. I mean, these were bad visitors, folks. I love these people. And then the bottom line, this was the killer. Now, you know what I did? I heard all of this. And I wrote all of this in the book, Glimpse of Eternity. They didn’t know I could hear them. I reported their conversations. You know, I’ve talked to a lot of people. I talked to a little old lady, Ida Ill. She said, “With a name like that, I’ve been sick all of my life.” And she said, “Do you know, I was unconscious two weeks. And my kids, my daughter and my son, quarreled over my real estate, over my savings account. And my daughter said to my son, ‘Well, if she lasts much longer, at $365 a day for a private room, there isn’t going to be anything left.’” She said, “Do you know what I did? I fooled them all and got well and changed my will.”

Well, I’ve got to tell you about Joan and Charles. As they got ready to leave, he said, “Well, one thing you can be sure of, as soon as she dies, her husband’s going to get married again.” She said, “I suppose so. He’s good looking and he’s got a good business. I guess he will.” Then they told horror stories about people that had died and the mate remarried and the new step-parent was mean to the children. And then they talked about, “I hope he gets someone that will be good to Brenda.” Do you know what I was doing all the time? They were doing this. I was so frightened and so fearful and so worried that I gritted my teeth and I clenched my fists. I decided I was not going to die and let my husband get married again. And I fought. I really fought to live. Do you know I have 102 pages of medical records? I was better or worse, according to the kind of visitors that I had. I have been flown all over the country. This is a charity. They don’t give you a love offering for this. But I talked to doctors and nurses in training about the effect of visitors on a comatose patient. It really does affect people.

I would encourage you, because I really believe we need to guard and keep our conversation positive. The finest thing you can do for anyone in a coma is to take the Word of God into that room and read the Word, one easily understood scripture, and then take their hand and pray for them. I honestly believe that we have let thousands of people go out into eternity without Jesus, because we did not talk to and pray for the comatose person. You may well be the one, just before that person dies, that reads the Word and prays, and in their heart, they will believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and be saved. And you can change the course of their destination from hell to heaven, because there are two places to go when you die. And I really believe that we need to be very careful about how we react and what we do in the room of an unconscious patient. I’ve done it more than once. I’ve prayed for a person unconscious, and they have died with a smile on their face. I don’t know if any of you caught the show when I was on To Tell the Truth with Garry Moore, but after that program with Garry Moore, he asked me if I really thought everyone hurt in a coma, and I gave him my tape, Glimpse of Eternity.

He took it to the hospital and played it for his sister-in-law that had been in a coma for 13 days, and she revived listening to that tape and sat up and went home in a couple of days. I believe the Lord could well use some of you to pray for a person in a coma and lead them to Jesus before they die. Well, I have to tell you how I know. I had other wonderful visitors. My dad did not leave that room at one time for eight days. His positive prayer and worship was so great, it was an anchor to my soul. My… I felt like a piece of driftwood on the sea of life, but my dad would stand up near the window, and I would hear him saying, “Bless the name of Jesus. Praise the Lord.” And he would hum, and he sat in a squeaky leather chair, and I could hear him turning the pages of the Bible, reading the Word, and he would pray for me. What a comfort it was to have my dad in that room praying for me. Even if I lost, I would win. My dad knew that I was headed for a wonderful place where there was no more pain, no more gangrene, and where there would be no more death.

Toward the end of this 44 days, I remember on two occasions when I was having trouble with my blood pressure and my breathing, and I prayed silently. You can pray in a coma, too. And I prayed, “Oh, Lord, send somebody to help me. I can’t get my breath.” And immediately, someone would come through the room, either a visitor or an aide, and they resuscitated me two times when my blood pressure was gone, and there was no more pulse, and my heart had stopped beating. Then, I heard the doctor explain to my family, “We have a new emergency. We cannot find any more B-negative blood.” My father had given way too much blood. They flew plasma in from Indianapolis, and there was no more B-negative blood available. So they got on the media and began to plead for donors that had B-negative blood. My Uncle Jesse was a railroad brakeman, and he was on the caboose of a Pennsylvania Railroad train. He was dead heading back from Peoria, Illinois, to Terre Haute, Indiana. And he said to one of the other fellows on the caboose, “You know, I think I’ve been hanging around with those Balmy Baptists too long. They say God speaks to them.” He said, “Do you know, I picked up that tin mug of coffee, and something spoke to my chest.”

This is the way he put it. “And told me to go directly to the hospital. Not to go home and shower and shave, but to go straight to the hospital.” He said, “It’s ridiculous. I’ve been in these dirty clothes three days. It’s not visiting hours. But I don’t know what to do with this impulse.” He said when he arrived at the roundhouse, he thought he would not do that. But he could not disobey the impulse, and he steered to the hospital. When Uncle Jesse arrived, he learned that I had eight to ten minutes to live. There was hardly any blood pressure because they could not find any more B-negative blood. Uncle Jesse said, “Type me.” They typed him, and guess what? He had B-negative blood. Yes, God still speaks to people today. Do you know, I’m going to pause here. I had a wonderful… I have wonderful heritage. My roots go back a long way, and my mom, Perky, my grandmother, told me once, “The reason some people do not receive from God, they are too smart to understand.” You’ll let that sink in. It will mean a lot to you. And I really believe that God is speaking to people today, but we are too smart to understand. We try to figure it out with a formula and with a textbook.

But Uncle Jesse is so glad he obeyed that impulse. They didn’t even take his blood. They put a tube directly from his arm to mine and transfused me, and I revived for a short while. Right after that, I took pneumonia, and water filled my lungs. I remember, on more than one occasion, they would bring a needle, a four-inch needle, and go through my chest cavity and pull water out so that I could get my breath. And then, all of the veins collapsed. There was nothing more they could do. The doctor gave an order to one of the nurses to put a no-visitors sign on the door. “No visitors, just family.” And then, the doctor talked to my family. He said, “Now that we’ve pulled all equipment, there’s nothing more to do but wait. We would suggest you go home, get some sleep and some rest. We’ll call you when the end comes so you can make arrangements for Betty’s body.” They all left, and I remember I could hardly get my breath again. And I began to pray, “Oh Lord, send somebody to help. I’ve got to get my breath.” And I heard a man’s footsteps. And I thought, “Oh, that’ll be the doctor.” I prayed for a doctor. And even if it isn’t the doctor, it might be my husband.

Now, my husband was my worst visitor. Folks, I’m going to talk in the morning about praying for results. Now, prayer is not worrying out loud. But that’s what my husband did. He would say, “Oh, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. Oh, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.” My husband was worrying out loud. But I thought, you know, even if it is my husband, he will see that I can’t get my breath, and he’ll go get a doctor. Maybe it’ll be my good dad. My dad will pray for me. And if I’m going to gasp my last breath, he will be with me when I die. It was none of those people. I heard the voice of Art. Now, let me describe Art. Art was a homemade preacher. Art had never been to Bible school. Art would come to church and bring his untuned guitar uninvited. He would sit on the front row and play that untuned guitar and help me with the music. And I did not like his help. I was church organist. I would prepare all week a postlude, a prelude, an offertory to impress people with what I could do. I’m confessing to you that that Hammond organ bench was my private throne, where on Sunday I could show off what I could do. And Art messed this up for me on many occasions.

This man, during the black market days, black market, sold gasoline and candy bars and nylon stockings. I don’t know where he got them. And then all of a sudden he said he was turned on to Jesus. And man, people liked him better as a sinner. He was so fanatical. I mean, he was self-righteous. He, all of us, looked black in comparison to his… I mean, he walked 22 inches above the ground. And he would pray on the street. It didn’t matter where. Well, this, when I prayed for a doctor, this is what I got. I got Art. All of a sudden, I kept thinking, “Oh, no. I don’t need a preacher. I need a doctor.” He didn’t even look at me. He was turning his Bible. And I suddenly quit worrying about who he was and listened to what he had to say. I’m going to stop here. I feel the Holy Spirit prompting me. The Word of God has got to be more than the written word with a black leather cover, folks. When I was two years old, my father would hand me a microphone and I could quote scripture on the radio. On Sunday morning, people would say, “Isn’t she cute? Pastor’s daughter quotes all of that scripture.” Do you know what, though?

Forgive me, folks, but it was showing off. And I’m going to hesitate here. Our kids are out. And I’m talking to adults tonight. I have spoken in camps, at writer’s workshops, and retreats in 49 of the 50 states now. Vermont is the only state I haven’t spoken in. And our churches are fast becoming religious theaters of the performing arts. And so many of our ministers are no longer servants, but they are becoming what they think they are, Christian movie stars. God help us. The blind lead the blind, and they’re all going to fall in the ditch. Jesus was not rich. Now God will prosper you if He can trust you. But I wonder where the servants are. Where are the shepherds anymore? And I have to tell you honestly, that day, when I was breathing my last breath, when Art began to turn the pages of the Bible, and he read, Psalm 107, verse 20, “He sent His word and healed them.” The Word of God became alive to me more than just promises or written words. It became alive. God had chosen a person I didn’t even like, a homely instrument to play sweet music to my dying soul. And I want you to know, a well of faith like a spring began to spring up within my spirit.

And when Art left that room, I did something else that I never do. I never cry. I maybe cry every two years, whether I need it or not. And when Art left the room, I cried. And in my unconscious state, I prayed, “Oh Jesus, give me a second chance to live again.” I have never liked people. I liked people if they had the right pedigree, the right measurements, were the right age, if they looked right, if they had the right label, went to the right church. But do you know, when you are dying, none of these things mean a thing. And I know that Art was not smart enough to have chosen that scripture. But God, by the Holy Spirit, had caused him to violate a no visitor sign and brought me hope. And I cried. And as I breathed my last breath, will you believe me if I tell you my last earthly thought was an old quote, “You can’t take it with you.” And it dawned on me, the only commodity that transfers from this life to the next is people. Now, I was headed for heaven because at the age 13, I knelt and asked Jesus’ blood to cleanse my sin. And so I had a passport visa. But I would have no reward because I had never invested in people.

You can be sure now, oil wells, quarter horses, collie dogs, those things do not mean a lot to me anymore. I have decided to invest in people. It’s the only thing you can take with you when you die to the next world. And that was my last thought that I thought as I gasped my last breath. But do you know, I have to tell you, God in His mercy made it wonderfully easy for me. It was not frightening. Death was just being launched from this planet to another. It was very sudden. The scripture says it’s in a twinkling of an eye. And I felt as though I’d gotten on a roller coaster at Disney World. And when you peak that high point of the ride, it was a thrill. And I was launched from this planet to another planet. And I began to walk through a meadow of waving green grass among flowers in colors like I’ve never seen here. It was a very natural place. It was not an eerie place. People were not spooks floating around being nice and bored. It was a natural place. People were doing the same thing they did here, only in a perfect environment. Or they were becoming there what they always wanted to be here, but never quite made it.

This meadow was very real. The grass was very, very real. And I saw people running to meet me. People that I knew that had died. They knew me and I knew them. We were ourselves, only we were energized with the everlasting supernatural power of God’s creative energy that would be forever, youthful, and vitality would never wane. I knew this, and I saw my baby brother. And for the sake of anyone here that has lost a baby, one day is as a thousand years with the Lord. So babies up there develop very slowly. So you actually will take off where you left off with your loved one that you lost. My baby brother had changed very little. And I talked with a wonderful barren woman that said God showed her that in heaven she and other women who had no children on earth or Catholic sisters who were married to the church that are born again would be the mothers of babies there whose parents never received Jesus. And so they will have babies in heaven. Now this was a revelation to me. In those 28 minutes that I was gone, I learned more, not by talking or listening but by comprehending, than I ever learned in my whole life together. I have to tell you the beauty of that place.

The meadow. As I walked through this meadow, I looked out over the vast meadow and you could see, I cannot tell you how many hundreds of miles, your vision can see. And I realized that the children were playing with animals in that meadow. Heaven’s paradise was brought down in a small sample to the Garden of Eden. I explain this in the book Heaven: A Bright and Glorious Place. And then I saw the children playing in the meadow with these animals. They were having a wonderful time. I saw a man who had died in our hometown that had both legs amputated and he had both legs. He was running and playing with the children. Now there were no animals in the capital city and we were starting up a hill. I say we because I was not alone. As a pastor’s daughter one time when I was quite young, I told my dad, “I don’t want to go to heaven.” He said, “The pastor’s daughter don’t want to go to heaven? Don’t ever tell people that.” But I thought that heaven was wall-to-wall church. There’s no church there. There were no labels in heaven. They didn’t even ask me if I went to a church. Jesus was my passport visa. His blood had cleansed me before I arrived there.

And then I have to tell you another thing. I always thought that people would sit on a damp cloud playing a harp and this would be boring. People were not like that at all. They were very natural, very real people. Old people were themselves but they were very youthful. And then I was walking with an angel. Now, I thought angels were effeminate sissies with little white hands. This dude must have been seven feet tall that walked with me. We could communicate if we wanted but mostly we talked with our sink. We could understand. And we traveled by wishing. Just by wishing we traveled out through the galaxies, out through space. We were never limited by travel. My height phobia was gone. My complex of being too tall and too skinny was gone. There are no complexes there. I stood tall and erect though I had been rolled over for 44 days with three incisions and they had not sewed me up. I was alive and I was very warm and very well. We could travel out through space and then come back down into this beautiful meadow. And then the angel and I walked up a hill. As we did, we went alongside the most majestic wall. Now I had never read the book of Revelation before this death experience.

It was too complicated for me. So I had never known before, but I saw the wall of the city. There were 12 layers of beautiful stone and the ninth layer of stone in the wall was the topaz, November topaz, my birthstone for November. I worked at a jewelry store and I knew this. I was fascinated by the wall of the city and as we walked along there was music, instruments and voices and singing like I have never heard here. I believe there were 12 gates but God allowed me to enter the gate near the music department because I was church organist. I cannot describe to you the wonderful, wonderful music and do you know what I did? I began to join the singing. All of my life I have complained I was born with a girl’s body but with a deep boy’s voice. I’ve always wanted to sing in high sweet tones. I began to sing like I always wanted to sing here. That’s why I believe that you will become there what you always wanted to be here. Do you know you will have forever to develop what you want to be? You can take music lessons from Bach or from David. You have forever to do these things. Now doctors and nurses will have to get a new job but I believe musicians are working overtime.

Have you ever considered the fact that we need teachers, we need ministers there. We will need music instructors. Children will need to grow up and learn about the Lord Jesus and His childhood. I cannot in this whole camp tell you everything but I will give you some more thoughts tomorrow. But I have to hurry on to tell you, as I stood there I listened and I have never studied a foreign language, but standing there I heard all of the languages and I understood them all. I do not believe we will go to language school in heaven and learn heavenese. I believe 1 John chapter 3 tells us, “When we see Him, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is.” And do you know something else, Dave? I have to confess to you I was a wee bit ashamed of my dad’s church because they all prayed at once. They all got happy at once. They all worshipped at once. And I used to think, “This is confusing to God.” But you know what? My mind was so small I was not thinking big. God on the Lord’s Day morning hears all of the languages around the world from all the houses of God going up at the same time. I’m sure our little 150 people did not confuse Him or His computers.

And standing there I understood the languages. We will be all knowing when we get there, as He is. Now I’ve come back and I don’t comprehend anymore but I’m so glad I got a foretaste of what heaven will be like. And then the other thing that happened, I heard the voice of Jack Holcomb, a Swedish tenor, and I had heard him in concert in Dallas and I thought, “This is strange. How could I hear Jack? I just heard him two weeks before in a concert. How could he be singing up here?” And he sang two songs, “I Have Been Born Again” and “The Old Account Was Settled Long Ago.” After my experience and I came back, I started to write my book. So I called Waco, Texas to ask Jack to please explain to me how his voice could penetrate all the way to heaven. And I got a lady on the phone and she said, “I’m Jack Holcomb’s widow. Didn’t you know Jack had died?” Well, I guess I did. I heard him singing. She said, “That’s wonderful. I knew he would be singing up there.” That Swedish tenor was singing those two songs. At that point I knew that I wanted so much to go inside the gate and the angel knew what I was thinking and he stepped forward and touched the gate.

When he did, those large pearl gates swung wide to me. I cannot describe the beauty of the entrance to that magnificent place. The light was so brilliant as I stepped inside, too bright. It was coming from the face of Jesus at the right of the Father in a golden throne room and I tried to see His face but the light was so bright I had to look down. And the light reflected on a golden boulevard down the center of the city, and as I gazed into that golden throne room I realized that the light there was the light which is all source of creativity and power and electricity and warmth that lights and causes our earth to function. I looked into that central system that causes this earth to function, and then as I looked at that dimension I began to look to the right of me and I ran through what looked like laser beams or northern lights. I lived for a short while in North Dakota and we would see the northern lights quite frequently. These were shafts of light coming from the earth and they looked like northern lights. As I walked through these beautiful shafts of light, like fiber optics perhaps would be a better description, I realized these were prayers ascending from the earth. Tomorrow morning I’m going to talk about the little book, Prayers That Are Answered, in which I have this concept.

And let me describe. As I walk through these shafts of light, I realize these were prayers ascending from the heart of ordinary people on the earth. And they were going directly shafted into the light in that golden throne room where prayers were being recorded and prayers were being answered. On one shaft of light, I saw my father’s voice. When my death occurred, a nurse’s aide called my family. My father stood by my bed, and they had covered me with a sheet. Mother and my husband and my daughter leaned against the wall, weeping. My dad said his heart was so broken, all he could say was one word. And he merely moaned, “Jesus,” just to comfort his own heart. But he said in that one word was a wish that I had not died. And suddenly my mind was changed. Prayer changes things. Prayer changes minds. Don’t quit praying for your loved ones. Never give up. And suddenly I never wanted to leave that place. But his one word prayer was shafted to the throne room. And it changed my mind. And I traveled faster than a jet plane back toward the hospital. As I was coming down toward the roof, I saw the morning sun coming up in equal brilliancy over all of the churches in my hometown.

Suddenly my religious prejudice was gone. And I realized God loves all of the houses of the Lord the same if they lift up Jesus, His Son. And they exalt the blood of Christ that was shed on the cross. That was a wonderful awakening. And then I felt like I got in an elevator. And when you hit the bottom floor, I slid back into my shell. As I did, I saw the morning sun coming in a ray of sunrise through the pane of glass across my hospital bed. And on this sun ray, I saw ivory letters. And I recalled what Art read to me. “He sent His word and healed them.” It dawned on me that God, in His overruling practical providence, had allowed no one to have prayed the prayer of faith. My own faith did not bring me back because I was already dead. If any man, and many of them did come, pastors and evangelists, to pray, if any one of them would have prayed and I would have gotten well, they would have written a story I was responsible for, “Betty’s miracle.” But do you know, God arranged it so it was too late for any man to take credit. Nor could I. It was His word. And these ivory letters, remember Art read, “He sent His word and healed them.”

And I looked and I read the words of Jesus. They were St. John 11, 25. “I am the resurrection and the life. He that believeth on me, though he were dead, yet shall he live.” Now, I had had a lot of hallucination. As I took drugs for pain and without oxygen, I had horrible hallucination, nightmares. Little pink men would throw me from one building to another. And I would chew the bars with pain in my hospital bed. But this was different. When I saw the word, I reached up and I pushed the sheet off my face and I touched the Word of God. Life went in my fingers, in my arms, and in my body. I sat up. I want you to know I have a love for the Word of God. “My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness. When all around my soul gives way, He then is all my hope and stay.” I love that old hymn, “On Christ the Solid Rock I Stand.” I love the new choruses and I love to worship and praise. But folks, go back to your church and at least once on the Lord’s Day, introduce this generation to these good, solid hymns that are based on the Word. This was a wonderful anchor to my mooring as I came back into my body.

I remember when I sat up, I scared a whole room full of people. When that sheet fluttered down, they all just leaned against the wall and nobody talked. And do you know, I looked out the window. The first thing I noticed was the grass. The grass was beautiful. Little things I took for granted. And I have to tell you, the first thing that entered my mind, I wanted to go home and love my husband. I wanted to bake homemade bread and mow the grass. Three things. Little things mean a lot. And then I looked out on the lawn of the hospital and there was a black boy carrying a case of 7-Up on his shoulders to take it into the basement for the vending machine. I loved that black boy so much I would have jumped out that window and hugged him. Now, I had never gone to school with black people. I’d never shaken hands with a black person. But I loved them so much. And I had been in a place where God loved His children from all nations the same. My racial prejudice was gone. And do you know, there was no religious prejudice, no racial prejudice there. And I honestly believe, hon, if you got any of that, you won’t get in.

I was so glad to be delivered from some of this tunnel vision that had hampered and hindered me. I was a prisoner of impressions all of my life. And I sat up with my new eyes. It was so wonderful. And do you know what else I did? I cried again. And I thought, “Oh, I’ve got to find Art and tell him.” I will never judge a person by their outward appearance again. I will never penalize a man for a lack of education. For God had chosen whom He would. And He chooses whom He will in His own sphere of influence. Your personality reaches a certain kind of people. And all of my prejudice was gone. I’ll tell you, it was wonderful. And then I grabbed the phone. I had to call my grandmother. Mom Perky, the lady that told me some people are too smart to understand. And I’ve got to tell her about heaven. I grabbed the phone and I dialed 533-2286. “Mom Perky, there’s no fear in death. It’s just changing locations. The music, the grass, the flowers.” I named off all the people that I had seen. That she knew that had died. And that I knew, I knew she’d be so excited about the light. And the river. And she didn’t even answer me.

I thought, “Boy, this is strange.” Of all the people I know, Mom Perky’s been dying. She’s been very sick. I thought she would get so excited about heaven. But I didn’t know Mother called her and told her I died. And so…

She rationalized, “Well, if Betty died and I got a phone call from her… Then I must have died, too. And we’re talking on phones up there.” My dad picked up the phone and says, “Mother, I don’t know what all has happened. But he just sat up and is talking about a light. But we’ll call you back.”

Well, my husband was up on the bed. My daughter, they were squeezing my feet. Hugging my legs. I mean, it was so wonderful to be reunited with my family. I believe I know what it will be like on Great Resurrection morning. Because I felt that resurrection power. And to be reunited with loved ones in that room. It was so wonderful. Well, in just a few minutes, people from other rooms were starting to filter into my room. The press was there. Nurses and aides were coming in the room. They called my doctor. The doctor was very embarrassed. Terribly embarrassed. I mean, how do you explain this to other doctors? I told him, “I’m thirsty and I’m hungry and I’m homesick.” He said… I dismissed the family and they left. He said, “Betty, I know you haven’t had anything to eat or drink for over a month. And you are homesick.” But he said, “The first order of business is the colostomy. Before you can have food or anything to drink, I’m going down and scrub for surgery. And I’ll meet you in 20 minutes. But first, I want to talk. You will be here for seven or eight weeks of therapy. For mental therapy, because you were without oxygen for a while. For physical therapy. And we have our work cut out for us.”

“So don’t get in a hurry. The first thing is the colostomy.” And he said, “You will probably have a drug withdrawal. You will have a struggle with depression. You may have a drug habit. We injected you very frequently because we knew you could not live. And we need to talk about birth control. If you would ever by some remote chance get pregnant, you probably would produce a deformed child.” But he said, “You will have some brain damage. We need to talk about coping. And you were blind when you came in. You may always be blind. We need to learn how to get around as an unsighted person.” I said, “Oh, but doctor, you don’t understand. I’m telling you, when I saw the light, now I can see.” He sort of shook his head and patted my hand. And I begged. And so he promised to send me something to wet my mouth before surgery. A nurse’s aide came and she sat me up and propped me up and put a tray in front of me. Now I have to describe for the ladies what I looked like when I sat up. I looked in a mirror. I’m 5’12”, and I weighed 68 pounds. I had green complexion, yellow eyes. My hair had not been shampooed for nine weeks.

For the first time in my life, I did not care how I looked. I care how you feel. And then I looked around the room. It was so wonderful to have a second chance to live again. And I loved that little nurse’s aide as she was leaving out the room just for serving me. And then I took the napkin off of the tray. And there were, on that tray, two broiled pork chops, applesauce, cottage cheese, a square of lemon cake, and a pot of tea. I polished it off in nothing flat.

Do you know I sat there so grateful for the ability to taste and to eat little things we take for granted every day. I had not eaten for so long. See, we are not grateful for these small things that mean so very much. But pretty soon, a nurse came through the door with a tube. She was unrolling the tubing. She said, “I have to run this tube up your nose, down your throat. I have to pump your stomach. We’ve made a dreadful mistake. We have to pump your stomach so you don’t vomit and hemorrhage.” Before she could do that, though, another lady in a green dress came through the door and grabbed her elbow and began to quarrel with the nurse. She was dismissed, and her husband would be there in ten minutes to pick her up. She was quite well and wanted to complain because all they gave her for her last meal was four ounces of 7-Up. Then the doctor came back, and he said, “We’ve made a dreadful mistake. Don’t even prep her. Just get an orderly up here. Bring her down to surgery. If any food passes that duodenal muscle, it’s too late.” So the orderly came, and when he put me on the cart, I had a natural urge. And I, of course, he didn’t know anything about the circumstance.

I said, “Please stop. I need to go in the little room.” “Sure,” he said. I went in there, and all of my plumbing worked in every way. Did again this morning. Before I left. I come in here. Do you know that’s another thing we forget to be grateful for? The ability to eliminate. Little things mean a lot. And the doctor was shocked. He said, “This cannot happen. This does not happen.” And they never did do the surgery. And when the doctor looked, there was new pink skin starting to form over three incisions. I did not stay there for seven or eight weeks of therapy. I went home in two days. Now, there wasn’t much of me. I doubled my weight in four and a half months. And I’m the happiest depressed woman you’re ever going to meet. I never had a drug withdrawal. Last year, I think I took six aspirin. And that’s not a bad drug problem. I guess the only lingering problem I have is the brain damage. But don’t tell my publishers. I fooled a whole bunch of people. Back on the table, I have ten tapes and ten books. And I have to tell you, too, that right after that, I had a baby daughter born. She was perfect in every way.

That doctor’s daughter had a… Or that doctor’s daughter had a ruptured appendix on the table. And she never had other children. Mine was ruptured 11 days with gangrene. And I had a daughter that was born perfect in every way. I am so glad to have shared my story with you tonight. Now, I have to confess to you something else. I do not like to travel. I am a writer. I’m not a speaker. I talk better on paper. You’ll agree when you hear me this week. I don’t like to dress up. But the only reason I keep going is when I tell my story, it offers hope that whatever your need is sitting there, your prayer is a shaft of light reaching directly to the throne room of God. And you are as close to that golden throne room where you sit as I am here. I never usually, if I’m asked, I do anoint and lay hands on people. But mostly miracles happen while people are in their seat. Sometime during this week, I want to talk to you about Ann Morrison. At Leesburg, I prayed for an MS patient. And she came out of a wheelchair after five years with MS.