Dr. P.M.H. Atwater's NDE Research

Jeanie Dicus had a very interesting episode during her near-death experience concerning reincarnation. In 1974, Jeanie Dicus' heart went into fibrillation and she died. Her resulting near-death experience is documented in P.M.H. Atwater's excellent book, Beyond the Light, reprinted by permission. You will find Jeanie's experience to be truly unique. Besides reincarnation, her experience reveals more information concerning other concepts such as, the mechanics of the life review and why people cannot remember their life experiences before birth. 

I was floating above my body. I saw green shower caps. The people in the room all wore those stupid caps. There were five or six caps and they were panicky. Their fear was so thick I could feel it. I kept thinking, "Hey, I'm okay, don't worry," but they didn't get my message. This was a little frustrating.

I found myself in the right-hand corner of the room. I lifted my arm and stretched. I had been immobile for so long. It felt like I had taken off a body girdle, and it was so delicious to get out of that cramped body. I felt a wonderful feeling wash over me - a sense of peace and power. I felt love and a sense of wonder as I realized that any question I could come up with would be answered.

There was Jesus. I was stunned and said, "I don't believe in you." 

He smiled and said the etheric equivalent of "tough shit," here I am. 

Looking at his eyes, I asked, "You mean, you've been with me the whole time and I didn't know?" And his reply was: 

"Lo, I am with thee, always, even beyond the end of the world." 

Now, I wasn't into "lo" so I said, "Hey, man, this is the seventies and we don't say "lo." Come on." 

He kind of grinned, I guess I was amusing him, and he answered, "You want to be reincarnated?" 

"Hey, give me a break," I yelled (only I made no sound). "I just died.  Don't I get a chance to rest?" 

"Take it easy, hold on, it's alright. You can change your mind at any time." 

I gasped, "I don't even believe in you and now you want me to reincarnate. Help!"

Our conversation continued. He even asked me to kiss his feet. No way. I gave him a bear hug and kissed his cheek. I got the equivalent of a belly laugh. I was so happy with him that words were no longer necessary. We then communicated mind-to-mind. 

Suddenly I was aware God was coming. I came to know that I had needed a human-looking Christ to relate to so I wouldn't be scared. The light came and I was given a choice - I could remain trapped in Earth, seeing and hearing everything, but unable to help anyone, not even my daughter (I was told this was limbo), or I could stay with God. I chose God.

The White Light in front of me was sort of like a white light bulb only it was so strong. I remember thinking my eyes, should be burning, but then I remembered that I didn't have any eyes to burn. God was love and love was light, and it was warm and it permeated every molecule of me.  This was so delicious, I was crying with torrents of tears that didn't exist. It was so enormous. I was loved. I didn't feel irrelevant. I felt humble, awed, and amazed. For a long time after my near-death experience, I ended my prayers with, "You are soooooo big!" It was my way of expressing appreciation.

Then I was instantly zapped to a domed room with square screens up and down the walls, on the ceiling - hundreds of television screens. On each screen was a home movie of one event in my life. The good, the bad, the secret, the ugly, the special.  Everything was going on at once; nothing was chronological. All was silent. When you looked at one screen, you focused in, and you could hear what was there. Not only words, but your thoughts, your feelings, everything; and when you looked at the other people or animals, you could hear their thoughts, their feelings, too. And you made the connection between these and the events which ensued. You were filled with, not guilt, but a strong sense of responsibility.

God said to me: "I gave you the precious gift of life. What did you do with this gift?" 

I answered in a puny, wimpish voice, "I'm only twenty-three. I didn't know I was supposed to do anything. I have a two-year-old daughter. I spend my time and energy on her." 

It wasn't a good answer, but it was the truth. I was the judge and I was satisfied. I guess that was what God wanted. But the next time this happens, I'm having a list ready. 

I now have a card on my fridge door that says, "Practice random kindness and senseless acts of beauty."  

I asked a lot of questions, about sin, murder, and such, and I got a lot of answers. I was told that before we're born, we have to take an oath that we will pretend time and space are real so we can come here and advance our spirit. If you don't promise, you can't be born.