Best Near-Death Experiences

In Imagine Heaven, Burke compares over 100 gripping stories of near-death experiences (NDEs) to what Scripture says about our biggest questions of Heaven: Will I be myself? For decades, Burke has been studying accounts of survivors brought back from near death who lived to tell of both heavenly and hellish experiences. In Imagine Heaven, he compares more than one hundred gripping stories of near-death experiences (NDEs) to what Scripture says about our biggest questions of Heaven: Will I be myself? What will Heaven look like? Burke shows how the common experiences shared by thousands of near-death survivors--including doctors, college professors, bank presidents, people of all ages and cultures, and even blind people--point to the exhilarating picture of Heaven promised in the Bible. -- J. P. Moreland , distinguished professor of philosophy, Biola University. "In his engrossing book, my friend John Burke surveys the vast literature on NDEs, examining them in light of the Bible and showing how they can help us live with an eye on eternity."

A highly trained neurosurgeon, Alexander knew that NDEs feel real, but are simply fantasies produced by brains under extreme stress. While his body lay in coma, Alexander journeyed beyond this world and encountered an angelic being who guided him into the deepest realms of super-physical existence. Today Alexander is a doctor who believes that true health can be achieved only when we realize that God and the soul are real and that death is not the end of personal existence but only a transition. Pim van Lommel, cardiologist, author of Consciousness Beyond Life: The Science of the Near-Death Experience. His honest struggle to make sense of this unforgettable journey is a gripping story, unique in the literature of spiritual experiences, that may well change how we understand our role in the universe.” —Bruce Greyson, MD, co-editor of The Handbook of Near-Death Experiences: Thirty Years of Investigation.

A highly trained neurosurgeon, Alexander knew that NDEs feel real, but are simply fantasies produced by brains under extreme stress. While his body lay in coma, Alexander journeyed beyond this world and encountered an angelic being who guided him into the deepest realms of super-physical existence. Before he underwent his journey, he could not reconcile his knowledge of neuroscience with any belief in heaven, God, or the soul. Today Alexander is a doctor who believes that true health can be achieved only when we realize that God and the soul are real and that death is not the end of personal existence but only a transition. Eben Alexander, MD, has been an academic neurosurgeon for the last twenty-five years, including fifteen years at the Brigham & Women’s and the Children’s Hospitals and Harvard Medical School in Boston.

The most comprehensive guide to the botany, history, distribution, and cultivation of all known psychoactive plants. • Examines 414 psychoactive plants and related substances. He offers a thorough discussion (including 20 full monographs) of psychoactive fungi, referred to in ancient times as the “food of the gods” and used by shamans in many cultures for entry to the spirit world. He then received a fellowship from the German academic service for foreign research, the Deutsche Akademische Auslandsdienst (DAAD), to realize his doctoral thesis on healing spells and incantations of the Lacandone-Maya at the University of Hamburg, Germany. In addition to his work in Mexico, his numerous fieldworks have included research in Thailand, Bali, the Seychelles, as well as a long-term study (18 years) on shamanism in Nepal combined with expeditions to Korea and the Peruvian and Colombian Amazon. Before becoming a full-time author and internationally renowned lecturer, Rätsch worked as professor of anthropology at the University of Bremen and served as consultant advisor for many German museums. A former member of the board of advisors of the European College for the Study of Consciousness (ECSC) and former president of the Association of Ethnomedicine, he lives in Hamburg, Germany.

Would you like to understand the deeper spiritual meaning of physical illness, parenting handicapped children, drug addiction, alcoholism, the death of a loved one, accidents, deafness, and blindness? Robert Schwartz is also the author of Your Soul’s Gift: The Healing Power of the Life You Planned Before You Were Born , which explores the pre-birth planning of spiritual awakening, miscarriage, abortion, caregiving, abusive relationships, sexuality, incest, adoption, poverty, suicide, rape, and mental illness. “ Your Soul’s Plan is a deeply insightful guide as to why our lives unfold as they do and how to direct them to a deeper place. “ Your Soul’s Plan is one of the most detailed explorations I have seen into understanding why we have chosen certain paths in our lives and how we may use that information to continue our journey as a soul here and now. “Schwartz provides a very special sense of seeing divine order everywhere… Your Soul's Plan provides a fabulous and much-needed compass for those of us seeking to regain the deeper awareness of our core spiritual strength. “ Your Soul's Plan is highly recommended to anyone trying to understand the suffering, tragedy or loss that has caused them to question life, death and/or God. "The serene cover of Your Soul's Plan belies the punch with which Robert Schwartz communicates the results of his research into pre-birth planning .

For fans of TLC’s Long Island Medium and anyone interested in the big questions of life, death, and finding out what’s important in between, New York Times bestselling author and medium Theresa Caputo shares how she discovered her gift and her many encounters with Spirit. There’s More to Life Than This lends insight on how Theresa’s mediumship works, what happens to your soul when you die, what Spirit says Heaven is like, what the deceased want you to know, the importance of living a positive life, and the many roles that your family, friends, angels, guides, souls of faith, and God play here and in the afterlife. I wasn’t born in the back of some gypsy wagon, and I didn’t grow up reading fortunes on the Bayou. I grew up on Long Island in a town called Hicksville, with my mom, dad, and younger brother, Michael. I had nice friends, got good grades, and spent a lot of free time with my family. On Thursdays, we’d have spaghetti and meatballs at Nanny and Pop’s house; on Saturdays, I’d paint ceramics with Auntie G; and on Sundays, our whole extended family would go to Gram and Gramp’s house after church to spend the afternoon eating, laughing, and telling stories. It was like the Long Island Italian version of Leave It to Beaver, but with a twist that literally kept us all up at night. At the time, we lived in my dad’s childhood home, which is right near the Hicksville Gregory Museum, a former 1915 courthouse that also had jail cells for prisoners in it. Some people think old buildings like prisons, with their history of pain and suffering, can hold on to Spirit. Anyway, I’d have a recurring dream where, from a window on the second floor of our house, I’d watch a man pace on the sidewalk out front. I never saw the man’s face, but he was always hunched over and carrying a stick with a bandanna sack on the end. I now believe a hobo is the unassuming image that my guide took so that I’d understand the Sunday school reference and feel okay when he called my name. I was raised Roman Catholic and still practice this today, so I think my guide presented himself through my frame of reference, a little like how Spirit shows me signs and symbols during a reading now. But I’ll never forget her standing at the foot of my bed—she was short with dark hair and wearing a housedress. We took a lot of vacations together, including an annual camping trip with my grandparents for the entire summer. Most people at the site were lucky to have a tent with a Bunsen burner; we had this awesome trailer with a shower, kitchen, a screened-in porch so the bugs wouldn’t get at our food, everything. My grandmother made scrambled eggs and French toast in the mornings, and in the afternoons, we’d have bicycle races and go tire swinging into the lake. At night, we’d play pinball at the rec hall, roast marshmallows, and sing campfire songs. But no matter how much fun we had during the day, or how relaxed I felt, my night terrors would strike like they did at home. My grandparents even warned our fellow campers in advance—if you hear someone screaming bloody murder, it doesn’t mean there’s a bear or maniac on the loose! I’d be sitting on our green tweed sofa, watching Romper Room, when a person would pass by and then fade out. I also remember getting a kitchen set for Easter one year as a kid, arranging my pots a certain way when I was done playing house, and when I came back to them in the morning, they were in a completely different spot. When I was out with my friends at the mall or the bowling alley, I’d ask if they saw a man walk by or heard someone call their name, because I secretly had, and they’d go, “Uh, no. Doctors have always said that our bodies are built to adapt; if a feeling or experience goes on for long enough, the brain learns to disregard it, work around it, or just treat it as normal. As a child, my family and friends just laughed when I’d occasionally say strange things, but never pursued the subject much further. (Mom recently joked that my abilities give a whole new meaning to when I used to say there was a monster, imaginary friend, or ghost in my room!). And for as many times as friends didn’t agree with what I’d heard or seen, I did have family who had similar experiences because they’re also sensitive. But at the time, all Lisa and I knew was that we had unusual, shared experiences that made encounters with what we now know is Spirit just part of our lives. As for my smart-aleck cousin Johnny, he was living in my grandmother’s house ten years later and saw her standing in the hall when he was coming out of the shower. Between the ages of about twelve and fourteen, I began to feel less comfortable with what was happening around me, mostly because of how people reacted to my observations. Nobody hears or sees things the way you do!” What once seemed normal now wasn’t, so I decided to block my experiences out altogether. By the time I was sixteen years old, I was lucky that I hadn’t lost a lot of loved ones, but this also means that I didn’t have recognizable Spirit visiting me. After she passed, my dad’s older sister, whom we call Auntie, had a psychic come to Nanny’s house. I felt Nanny’s energy and soul near the window, and my family kept asking me why I was by the drapes when everyone else was at the kitchen table. When I think about this memory now, I can physically smell Nanny’s house and see everything in it—the plastic-covered furniture, marble end tables, her sparkly dining room chandelier, a painting of The Last Supper, and those gold drapes. And as I tell this story, I get a vision, like a quick filmstrip, of Nanny standing at the stove, smoking her cigarette all the way down to a really long ash that’s dangling over a bubbling spaghetti pot. My uncle Julie died during my senior year of high school, and around that time, my anxieties began to get much worse than they’d been. Instead of waking up screaming, I’d jump out of bed, feeling like I couldn’t breathe to save my life. When Auntie had the psychic over that first time I saw Nanny’s soul, he told me I was going to meet someone much older than me with a beard and mustache. Back then, I thought the psychic was being a wacko, since I was dating someone at the time and didn’t even like facial hair. Larry had this awesome hair that was tight on the sides, fluffy on top, and long in the back. I dreamed of becoming a hairdresser or legal secretary, but that meant commuting into Manhattan for the good jobs, which was way too overwhelming for me—trains, elevators, skyscrapers, traffic jams . Larry tells me he used to look forward to coming to work to see what I was wearing, because I was in my Madonna stage. I used to wear skintight pants, big belts, a fishnet top that draped off my shoulder, and fingerless gloves. Sometimes I saw figures or heard things, but at this point I was in such denial that I was fully convinced my mind was playing tricks on me. The best cause we could find for my chronic unease was that I came from an anxious family, so maybe this kind of thing was genetic. But the guy couldn’t give me one good medical or psychological reason why I felt as severely bad as I did. I couldn’t keep my anxiety attacks and laundry list of phobias from Larry for too long, especially when we were in the car or other enclosed spaces. If we were on the Long Island Expressway during a traffic jam, I’d get a frown-y look on my face knowing that I was about to freak out. Then I’d scream bloody murder, and even if the car was moving, I’d beg and plead with Larry to pull over so I could get out right away. My husband says that although I made us take the hospital stairs instead of the elevator when I was in labor with our son, Larry Jr., I was unusually calm and in control during childbirth. I thought smoking cigarettes would relax me, even though it seemed to make my chest feel heavier, which only increased my anxiety. The kids had never seen me that bad and looked terrified to watch their mom unravel in front of their eyes. Even when the kids were young and brought home nasty germs from school, I rarely caught their colds or flu. When I channel Spirit, I do it from a place of the highest good, and that requires my body, mind, and soul to be healthy and pure. Looking back, I wouldn’t have been able to develop my abilities if I continued to fuel my body with anything negative, like cigarettes. When I was pregnant with our son, Larry and I were walking out of a Chinese restaurant and had one of those surreal conversations that reminded me of when I was a kid. I suspect the MSG helped trigger my vision because it’s a chemical, and when people alter their chemistry, it can do some crazy stuff to their soul. My therapist called this “anticipatory anxiety,” which is when you anticipate future events in a way that causes you to feel anxious, and that interferes with your ability to function in everyday life. Mom’s friend Pat Longo is a spiritual healer and works with people who have physical or emotional ailments, including chronic anxiety; she also teaches classes about living a balanced, positive, and fulfilled life that includes meditation and healing. She put her hands over my head and began to channel healing energy from God. But when I called to make an appointment, Pat told me I didn’t need another healing, that there was nothing for her to mend within me. She asked if I wanted to take her spiritual awareness class instead to give me some perspective and balance in my life. I put on a good face for friends and family, but I was still fragile on the inside and wouldn’t have felt safe with just anyone. I think Spirit made it rain to help me break through my fear, on my way to honing my gift. There was a monsoon during my son’s baby shower and my daughter’s Communion, and Hurricane Hugo hit on my wedding day. Even when I taped The Tonight Show a few years ago, which was intimidating and such a big deal for me, it poured cats and dogs. Leno’s producers assured me that it never rains that much in LA in October, and wouldn’t you know, the minute I was done shooting at five p.m., the sun came out. Ideally, it enters through the crown, or head, chakra, flows through my entire body, and then releases through my words. But when Spirit was trying to deliver a message, it would channel through my crown, and I’d block it in my chest, which would cause my heart to race or give me those crazy palpitations. For instance, a message might begin with me feeling very restricted in the throat area, which means there is a soul that would like to tell me that they passed via a death connected to the throat, that they were unable to communicate prior to their passing, or they did not get to say good-bye (one symbol for me can mean a lot of things—more on that later). So I’d be having a normal conversation with someone at the grocery store, say, and all of a sudden I’d feel like I couldn’t breathe or that I was being strangled. I also thought some places felt better than others because I had random anxieties, but it was really the energy changing in each spot, often based on Spirit’s presence. My Catskills camping memory contributed to my tent phobia, and riding in cars or being silent in an elevator forces me to sit still without distractions, which is when I’m most open to Spirit. During a past-life regression, I also learned I was a prisoner on a ship during a torrential storm, which explains why I’m afraid of rain. In class, I began to give people messages from loved ones, and right away, channeling made me feel normal. If you think talking to dead people makes you feel better, keep doing it.” Larry was also raised Catholic, so I’m not sure he believed in Spirit, and was more likely appeasing me, but he was supportive, which is what ultimately mattered. Finally Larry said that if at any point I didn’t want to continue, we could turn around and come home. Cell phones were still new at the time, and I insisted on taking one in the car in case I needed to call Pat to talk me off a ledge. She died a few years ago, but whenever I get over anxiety-related hurdles—like taking a tour bus across the country or sitting in a tent in my backyard—Spirit makes me remember Gram standing at that window, beaming with pride. When I first started reading others, I’d be brushing my teeth, look up, and suddenly see a man standing behind me in the mirror. So I told my guides that if I was supposed to embrace this gift, they’d have to find other ways to show me things. I don’t mean negative “shadow people,” or the scary dark masses that whisked away the bad guys’ souls in Ghost. In fact, because I only want to serve the highest good, I don’t see negative Spirit and try to avoid them at all costs. I don’t like Halloween parties or historic haunted houses, and you couldn’t pay me enough to touch a Ouija board. In the same vein, I’m always asking that things be protected in God’s white light, so I never even get negative information during readings. I took on more of Pat’s clients and began sharing the unbelievable, moving, and often hilarious stories with Larry. At one time, I would’ve gone into a tailspin—abandoned my cart in the middle of the aisle, hightailed it out of the store, sped through stop signs crying, and beat myself up for the whole drama once I got home. But at that moment, I knew Spirit would continue to place people in my path who needed to hear messages from their loved ones, like this woman. After taking Pat’s classes for five years, and reading her students, it was time to share my ability with others. Pat suggested I make business cards and get a separate phone line for my venture. The last four digits of this number were 6444, which I thought was perfect because I was born in the month of June (6), and I believe 444 is a sign of the angels. It’s worth mentioning that one reason it took me so long to accept my gift was that I struggled with why I was chosen to have it in the first place. If people asked my kids what their parents did for a living, they’d say, “Dad owns a business importing Italian foods, and Mom speaks to dead people.” So natural, like I was a teacher or something. Now, if he feels anything “strange”—like déjà vu, gut instinct, chills, good timing, coincidences, or even a hand on his leg or tug on his shirt, he knows it’s Spirit. In 2001, Larry was diagnosed with a brain tumor and not only did he survive, he overcame most of the nerve damage that it caused. My favorite change in Larry, though, is that my tough, tattooed, motorcycle man has become more emotionally sensitive to everything for some reason. But I still don’t like elevators or enclosed spaces, and I’m deathly afraid of the dark (no pun intended). As someone who doesn’t exactly hide her big personality, I’ve found it fun and interesting to channel souls that have distinct characters and stories. I love meeting new people, and being a medium can make me feel like the hostess at a really important gathering. I’m glad that I can share this gift with other people, though my family likes to joke that I don’t give them much of a choice when I stop them in the gym, dentist, or at the mall! If you handed me a bottle of hair spray and asked how it worked, I’d say, “Listen, I don’t care how.