The more I studied the Christian Scriptures, on my own and in seminary, the more intriguing and confusing reading about NDEs became. Intriguing because so many of them described the picture of the afterlife found in the Scriptures. Confusing because individuals’ interpretations of their experiences could wildly vary and even seem at odds with the Scriptures.

After reading hundreds of NDE accounts, I started to see the difference between what they reported experiencing and the interpretation they might give to that experience. While interpretations vary, I found the shared core experience points to what the Scriptures say. In fact, the more I studied, the more I realized that the picture Scripture paints of the exhilarating Life to come is the common experience that NDErs describe.

I include well over one hundred stories of people who were clinically dead or near death, were revived, and had amazing details to report. Some of them I personally interviewed, but most I compiled from reading about their experiences.

I also do not advise forming a worldview of the afterlife from a few people’s interpretations. But what I am trying to do is show you something amazing that I think God is showing me.

Could people make up stories or fabricate detail to sell more books? Yes. For this reason, I’ve tried to choose stories from people with little to no profit motive: orthopedic surgeons, commercial airline pilots, professors, neurosurgeons—people who probably don’t need the money but have credibility to lose by making up wild tales.

I find that most people, whether Christ-followers or not, have a horrible view of Heaven. At best it’s a cloudy, ethereal, disembodied, nonphysical experience—yeah, maybe with love, joy, and no suffering sprinkled in, but if we’re honest, we don’t really get excited about it. We can’t imagine actually liking it. At worst, people think of it as an endless, boring church service, singing songs you’re not excited about—forever! That sounds horrible to me, and I’m a pastor!

How you think about Heaven affects everything in life—how you prioritize love, how willing you are to sacrifice for the long term, how you view suffering, what you fear or don’t fear. I’m convinced we can’t even begin—but we should try—to picture how magnificent, how spectacular, how much fun Heaven will be—how much of what we love about this life and more awaits us in eternity. As the Scripture says, “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love him” (1 Corinthians 2:9 NLT). But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t push our imaginations to the limit trying to understand.

If you consider yourself a Christian, I hope this book gives you a better picture of Heaven than you’ve ever imagined. Jesus implored us not to live for earthly treasures and material junk that won’t last, but to live every day with an eye on eternity. C. S. Lewis once said, “If you read history, you will find that the Christians who did most for the present world were just those who thought most of the next. . . . Aim at Heaven and you will get earth ‘thrown in’: aim at earth and you will get neither.”

The man who is about to sail for Australia or New Zealand as a settler, is naturally anxious to know something about his future home, its climate, its employments, its inhabitants, its ways, its customs. All these are subjects of deep interest to him. You are leaving the land of your nativity, you are going to spend the rest of your life in a new hemisphere. It would be strange indeed if you did not desire information about your new abode. Now surely, if we hope to dwell for ever in that “better country, even a heavenly one,” we ought to seek all the knowledge we can get about it. Before we go to our eternal home we should try to become acquainted with it.

J. C. Ryle

Tragically, however, most people do not find their joy in Christ and Heaven. In fact, many people find no joy at all when they think about Heaven.

A pastor once confessed to me, “Whenever I think about Heaven, it makes me depressed. I’d rather just cease to exist when I die.”

“Why?” I asked.

“I can’t stand the thought of that endless tedium. To float around in the clouds with nothing to do but strum a harp . . . it’s all so terribly boring. Heaven doesn’t sound much better than Hell. I’d rather be annihilated than spend eternity in a place like that.”

Rather than ignore our imagination, I believe we should fuel it with Scripture, allowing it to step through the doors that Scripture opens. I did not come to the Bible with the same view of Heaven that I came away with.

Jesus said to me, “Go and tell them about this place. It is not My desire that any should go there. Hell was made for the devil and his angels.”15

I was instantly sobered as Jesus allowed me to see a steady stream of people falling through a tunnel—one after the other, after the other, after the other—into an open cavern, into the terror that I had just escaped.

While I was watching this scene, Jesus allowed me to feel just a small amount of the sorrow He feels for His creation that is going to hell. His love is so far beyond our capacity and is infinitely greater than our love. I couldn’t stand feeling even a fraction of the anguish He feels. I said, “Please, stop!” I couldn’t bear it.

I cannot elaborate enough on this point. It was the deepest insight into God’s feelings that I had during this whole experience. There’s no way to measure how much He truly loves all people. When a single soul is lost to the devil and damned to that horrible place forever, it saddens Him greatly

When you are in hell, you are separated from God, and that is hopeless indeed. There is absolutely not even one tiny ray of hope for all who enter hell’s gates.

I could hear the creatures speaking to one another. Although I could not identify what language it was, somehow I could understand their words. They were awful words—terrible, blasphemous language that spewed from their mouths, expressing extreme hatred for God.

Suddenly they turned their attention toward me. They looked like hungry predators staring at their prey. I was terrified. Like an insect in a deadly spider’s web, I felt helpless, trapped, and frozen with fear. I knew I had become the object of their hostility, and I felt a violent, evil presence as I had never felt before and greater than anything I could imagine. They possessed a hatred that far surpassed any hatred a person could have, and now that hatred was directed straight at me. I couldn’t identify what these beasts were yet, but I knew they meant me harm.

I knew it was much more than physical weakness I was feeling. Indeed, it was weakness of every form. I was mentally and emotionally drained, even though I had only been there a few minutes. Most of us have experienced a loss of strength and energy after intense weeping, emotional distress, or grief. After a time of healing we regain that strength, though it may take years. However, at that moment I felt that there would never be a time for recuperating from the literal weight that had fallen upon me—a weight of hopeless despair.

I pleaded for mercy, but they had none—absolutely no mercy. They seemed to be incapable of it. They were pure evil. No mercy existed in that place. Mercy is from God in heaven.

The mental anguish I felt was indescribable.

I was extremely nauseated from the terrible, foul stench coming from these creatures. It was absolutely disgusting, foul, and rotten. It was by far the most putrid smell I had ever encountered. If you could take every rotten thing you can imagine, such as an open sewer, rotten meat, spoiled eggs, sour milk, dead and rotting animal flesh, and sulfur, and magnify it a thousand times, you might come close. This is not an exaggeration. The odor was actually extremely toxic, and that alone should have killed me.

I was horrified as I heard the screams of an untold multitude of people crying out in torment. It was absolutely deafening. The terror-filled screams seemed to go right through me, penetrating my very being.

I actually felt the darkness. Exodus 10:21 speaks of “darkness which may even be felt.” It was not like the darkness on the earth. I was once in a coal mine in Arizona that was completely void of light. I couldn’t see anything, yet it was nothing like the darkness in hell. It was as though the darkness in hell had its own power, a power that consumed me.18 The darkness was not simply the absence of light—it had a distinctive evil presence, a feeling of death, a penetrating evil.

The air was filled with smoke, and a filthy, deathly, decaying odor hung in the oxygen-depleted atmosphere. It seemed as if all the oxygen had been sucked up by the high-leaping flames in the distance. I could barely breathe. The lack of oxygen in the atmosphere left me gasping for every little bit of air I could inhale. There was no humidity or moisture in the air. It was exhausting even to try to get just one breath.

One of the worst sensations I experienced was an insatiable thirst and dryness. I was so extremely thirsty. My mouth was so dry it felt as if I had been running through the desert for days. There was no water, no humidity in the air—no water anywhere. I desperately longed for just one drop of water.

With thoughts of utter hopelessness flooding my mind, I looked out at the desolate, barren cavern toward the flames.

could faintly see flames from afar that dimly lit the skyline. I knew the flames were coming from a large pit, a gigantic raging inferno approximately one mile in diameter and about ten miles away. This was just one of the many things I simply knew. My senses were keener.

There was no work, no goals, no wisdom, and no opportunity to speak to anyone or to solve any problem. There was no need to offer advice, help, or comfort of any kind. Purpose was nonexistent. All life was over, and a useless “wasting away” permeated my being.

I was so far beyond terrified that there are no words to describe it.

I also experienced the misery of total exhaustion in hell. The continual emotional, mental, and physical trauma feeds this vicious cycle of sleep deprivation. You desperately long for even a few minutes of rest, but you never, ever get that privilege. Imagine for a moment how terrible you feel after only forty-eight hours of no sleep. In hell you never sleep, rest, or find a quiet moment. Any form of rest is nonexistent. Even though I was only there for twenty-three minutes, the torment and trauma were so intense that I felt as if I hadn’t slept in weeks. It could only worsen with time.

There is never any peace of mind. There is no rest from the torments, the screams, the fear, the thirst, the lack of breath, the lack of sleep, the stench, the heat, the hopelessness, and the isolation from people.

You are truly alone amidst a sea of tormented souls.

As far as living in a separated state from God and all life, there is no way I can describe the horrendous feeling of being separated from God. It is the most empty, lonely, abandoned, and completely destitute feeling one could ever imagine.

However, now I found myself next to an enormous pit with raging flames of fire leaping high into an open cavern. As I looked up into that dark, eerie, tomb-like atmosphere, it seemed to be like a mouth that had swallowed her dead. The flames of her ravenous appetite were never satisfied with the pitiful screams of untold multitudes.

I could see the outlines of people through the flames. The screams from the condemned souls were deafening and relentless. There was no safe place, no safe moment, no temporary relief of any kind.

It was raining fire and burning rock, similar to the way lava falls from the sky when a volcano explodes. The smoke from the flames was very thick, allowing visibility for only a short distance, but what I could see was horrifying. I saw many people reaching out of the pit of fire, desperately trying to claw their way out. But there was no escape.

The wall wrapped around me and led to the vast expanse of the pit. As I looked at the walls, I saw that they were covered with thousands of hideous creatures. These demonic creatures were all sizes and shapes.

There were also gigantic rats and huge spiders at least three feet wide and two or three feet high. I also saw snakes and worms, ranging from small to enormously large. I was petrified and could not believe my eyes.

. I could now see more of the enormous pit, which looked to be as much as a mile across. However, this was just a fraction of hell’s space.3 To the right of the large inferno were thousands of small pits, as far as I could see. Each pit was no more than three to five feet across and four to five feet deep—each pit holding a single lost soul.

My gaze followed the beasts up the sides of the wall, and I saw that there was a hole in the top of the cave. It was the entrance to an upward tunnel, approximately thirty-five feet in diameter. The fiendish creatures lined the tunnel walls as well.

When I first stood in heaven, they were still in front of me and came rushing toward me. They embraced me, and no matter which direction I looked, I saw someone I had loved and who had loved me. They surrounded me, moving around so that everyone had a chance to welcome me to heaven.

I felt loved—more loved than ever before in my life. They didn’t say they loved me. I don’t remember what words they spoke. When they gazed at me, I knew what the Bible means by perfect love. It emanated from every person who surrounded me.

I stared at them, and as I did I felt as if I absorbed their love for me. At some point, I looked around and the sight overwhelmed me. Everything was brilliantly intense. Coming out from the gate—a short distance ahead—was a brilliance that was brighter than the light that surrounded us, utterly luminous. As soon as I stopped gazing at the people’s faces, I realized that everything around me glowed with a dazzling intensity. In trying to describe the scene, words are totally inadequate, because human words can’t express the feelings of awe and wonder at what I beheld.

Everything I saw glowed with intense brightness.

I wasn’t blinded, but I was amazed that the luster and intensity continually increased. Strange as it seems, as brilliant as everything was, each time I stepped forward, the splendor increased. The farther I walked, the brighter the light. The light engulfed me, and I had the sense that I was being ushered into the presence of God. Although our earthly eyes must gradually adjust to light or darkness, my heavenly eyes saw with absolute ease. In heaven, each of our senses is immeasurably heightened to take it all in. And what a sensory celebration!

A holy awe came over me as I stepped forward. I had no idea what lay ahead, but I sensed that with each step I took, it would grow more wondrous.

Then I heard the music.

It was the most beautiful and pleasant sound I’ve ever heard, and it didn’t stop. It was like a song that goes on forever. I felt awestruck, wanting only to listen. I didn’t just hear music. It seemed as if I were part of the music—and it played in and through my body. I stood still, and yet I felt embraced by the sounds.

As aware as I became of the joyous sounds and melodies that filled the air, I wasn’t distracted. I felt as if the heavenly concert permeated every part of my being, and at the same time I focused on everything else around me.

The praise was unending, but the most remarkable thing to me was that hundreds of songs were being sung at the same time—all of them worshiping God. As I approached the large, magnificent gate, I heard them from every direction and realized that each voice praised God. I write voice, but it was more than that. Some sounded instrumental, but I wasn’t sure—and I wasn’t concerned. Praise was everywhere, and all of it was musical, yet comprised of melodies and tones I’d never experienced before.

“Hallelujah!” “Praise!” “Glory to God!” “Praise to the King!” Such words rang out in the midst of all the music. I don’t know if angels were singing them or if they came from humans. I felt so awestruck and caught up in the heavenly mood that I didn’t look around. My heart filled with the deepest joy I’ve ever experienced. I wasn’t a participant in the worship, yet I felt as if my heart rang out with the same kind of joy and exuberance.

If we played three CDs of praise at the same time, we’d have a cacophony of noise that would drive us crazy. This was totally different. Every sound blended, and each voice or instrument enhanced the others.

As strange as it may seem, I could clearly distinguish each song. It sounded as if each hymn of praise was meant for me to hear as I moved inside the gates.

Many of the old hymns and choruses I had sung at various times in my life were part of the music—along with hundreds of songs I had never heard before. Hymns of praise, modern-sounding choruses, and ancient chants filled my ears and brought not only a deep peace but the greatest feeling of joy I’ve ever experienced.

The celestial tunes surpassed any I had ever heard. I couldn’t calculate the number of songs—perhaps thousands—offered up simultaneously, and yet there was no chaos, because I had the capacity to hear each one and discern the lyrics and melody.

In those minutes—and they held no sense of time for me—others touched me, and their warm embraces were absolutely real. I saw colors I would never have believed existed. I’ve never, ever felt more alive than I did then.

I was home; I was where I belonged. I wanted to be there more than I had ever wanted to be anywhere on earth. Time had slipped away, and I was simply present in heaven. All worries, anxieties, and concerns vanished. I had no needs, and I felt perfect.

I get frustrated describing what heaven was like, because I can’t begin to put into words what it looked like, sounded like, and felt like. It was perfect, and I knew I had no needs and never would again. I didn’t even think of earth or those left behind.

For me, just to reach the gates was amazing. It was a foretaste of joy divine. My words are too feeble to describe what took place.

Looming just over the heads of my reception committee stood an awesome gate interrupting a wall that faded out of sight in both directions. It struck me that the actual entrance was small in comparison to the massive gate itself. I stared, but I couldn’t see the end of the walls in either direction. As I gazed upward, I couldn’t see the top either.

One thing did surprise me: On earth, whenever I thought of heaven, I anticipated that one day I’d see a gate made of pearls, because the Bible refers to the gates of pearl. The gate wasn’t made of pearls, but was pearlescent—perhaps iridescent may be more descriptive. To me, it looked as if someone had spread pearl icing on a cake. The gate glowed and shimmered.

I paused just outside the gate, and I could see inside. It was like a city with paved streets. To my amazement, they had been constructed of literal gold. If you imagine a street paved with gold bricks, that’s as close as I can come to describing what lay inside the gate.

Everything I saw was bright—the brightest colors my eyes had ever beheld—so powerful that no earthly human could take in this brilliance.

Just as I reached the gate, my senses were even more heightened, and I felt deliriously happy.

I paused—I’m not sure why—just outside the gate. I was thrilled at the prospect and wanted to go inside. I knew everything would be even more thrilling than what I had experienced so far. At that very moment I was about to realize the yearning of every human heart. I was in heaven and ready to go in through the pearlescent gate.

During that momentary pause, something else changed. Instead of just hearing the music and the thousands of voices praising God, I had become part of the choir. I was one with them, and they had absorbed me into their midst. I had arrived at a place I had wanted to visit for a long time; I lingered to gaze before I continued forward.

Then, just as suddenly as I had arrived at the gates of heaven, I left them.