A real-life drama that unfolded in the life of Earl Foster, pastor of Faith Community Church in Shady Hills, Florida. For him the prospect of flat-lining on a gurney was anything but hypothetical.
On March 16, 2006, Earl, age sixty-three, lay on a table at New Port Richey Hospital while medical personnel began a blood transfusion. Suffering from diabetes and a condition that causes low blood counts, Earl had accepted this procedure as a necessary requirement to keep him well.
But something went wrong. Terribly wrong. A few minutes into the procedure his heart stopped and in an instant he found himself up in a corner of the room watching as physicians tried to shock him back to life with a defibrillator. From his hovering position Earl felt a vague sense of disappointment at their attempt to revive him and he wasn’t sure why exactly.
A split-second later, he discovered himself no longer in the hospital room but somewhere indescribably beautiful. An overwhelming sense of peace swept over him. He knelt beside a stream to drink the cool, clear water from his cupped hands. Across a lush meadow he saw his old dog Ram running as fast as he ever did and leaping over the meandering brook to greet his owner. Earl’s long-lost cat Puff came scurrying up behind. As Earl reached out to meet them he spotted his sister Margi, with both legs perfectly okay and working fine—even though she had died with only one leg.
