Angels & Demons Battled Over His Soul as He Died
“You have six blood clots occluding your pulmonary artery, Mr. Kay,” the doctor told me.
“What…does…that mean?” I whispered in exhaustion.
“It means quite frankly, that you are a walking dead man,” he said. “My first inclination is to rush you to UCSD (University of California at San Diego) Hospital to open your chest so that a specialist there can remove the clots, but you wouldn’t make it.”
Men and women in white hospital gear now rushed their equipment into my room, including a ventilator and bags of solutions, anticoagulants. I don’t remember anything after that except waking in a room with my heart racing as though it would leap out of my chest.
The man next to me was suddenly rushed out of the room and placed in isolation, due to the discovery of his highly contagious, drug-resistant bacterial infection. I later learned that the infection was transferred to me, contributing to further clotting issues. Sepsis soon surged throughout my body and caused a traffic jam of red blood corpuscles that prevented the doctor from drawing any blood from my arm.
Uncontrollable spasms now caused my body to jump on the bed, like a fish out of water. For those seconds, I fought not to let go. At the same time, I wanted to let go. Then, in sharp contrast to the anxiety of my rapid heartbeat, heaviness in my chest, and numbness—my struggle ceased.
I was left in a place of stillness after a soft pull from my chest. The tug allowed my spirit to somehow settle over my motionless body now lying near me on the table. A light from above suddenly enveloped me and gently pulled me upward. I felt perfect peace in a space of darkness that was slightly illuminated by the light now coming from above. I was dead.
For an instant, I looked down to see my body, not thinking it at all strange that just moments before, I was convulsing on a hospital bed. Oddly enough, a perfect calm now possessed me. My practically inclined mind no longer needed to reason about my condition or my surroundings, wanting only to absorb every facet of my experience. Clearly, I had no control over the situation. I only wanted to relinquish my all to whatever or whoever tugged at my body from above; this dark space was gradually illuminated by the light. Below, my body lay strangely still as I peered down at it as an onlooker thinking, That body isn’t me anymore.
My second thought was, I’m not in the world anymore. It seems odd now, but I remembered a scene from the movie The Wizard of Oz, where Dorothy found herself in the Land of Oz and said, “I’m not in Kansas anymore.” I had been partly exposed to the spiritual realm but had never fully lived in it as I now did—apart from any semblance of the world, existing in some unknown space.
Heaven Stormed
Randy Kay
Instantly, I could see a rush of galaxies as I was pulled rapidly upward by the light. The base of my body or my feet shot like a streak of lightning. I watched as sparkling trails broke off of my body, the way one might see a rocket ship’s vapor trails break through the atmosphere. I felt like a surreal version of myself, a foreigner with no grounded identify other than some semblance of who I had become in a body comprised of a foreign substance tangible and penetrable and wonderfully made. Moreover, my sense of existence felt more defined by the Light that pulled me rather than the stuff that formed my body. My mind became consumed in the moment with no thought of the future—unencumbered for the first time even though I fully remembered only the pleasantries of my life on earth.
Next, I could see planets or giant rocks trail past as I ascended. After this rapid flight that seemed to last but a nanosecond, my feet settled on the ground of an ethereal space entirely different from the spiral galaxy I had passed. The atmosphere appeared surreal, as if imparting a faded effect onto a dynamic background. I looked outward in response to a faint clashing sound that seemed to come from somewhere off in the distance.
Whether miles or only a few hundred yards away, space and time appeared irrelevant, two groups of figures battled in what seemed to be a mixture of medieval and Star Wars garb and weaponry. On the right side, Heaven’s warrior angels—figures roughly twice the height of my six-foot frame glistened in the same light that had pulled me from above. That light now beamed upon their silver shields and reflected a laser-like beam onto similarly-sized demonic figures that warred against them in the darkness on the left.
As the figures fought, the light beam burned through the tattered gray robes covering the demons. Although the light beam pierced their flesh, it did not bleed—at least it looked like flesh, or another composition I could not discern due to the murky smoke that infiltrated the scene.
On the left, the wounds of the demonic figures wept pus as they spread their multiple wings in response to the light that pierced their bodies. In sharp contrast to the heavenly warriors on the right, the demons appeared with monstrous, reptilian heads—black, beady eyes; sharp, bulbous skulls with rotting teeth; flattened, flared nostrils; an absence of ear openings, and bodies covered with decaying cloth. Some demons fell to the burnt floor that was faintly comprised of debris.
Once felled, the demons gnawed upon their own limbs or the bodies of other fallen demons. Their mummified faces did not appear even remotely human, and withered hide overlaid their bones. They had elongated, goat-like snouts with bloated, human-shaped foreheads and slits for eyes. Their disproportionately-sized arms dangled forward, perhaps six feet from their bodies. Legs exaggerated in length protruded from their shredded robes to reveal sinew and what appeared to be muscle tissue—like frayed, interwoven ropes in a perpetual state of decay.
The figures battled with rusty swords or spears that shed something like blackened snowflakes through the air. Figures from either side intermittently crossed into the opposite side to plunge their weapons into the gargantuan bodies of their enemies. As soon as a figure became wounded, it fell to the ground. As the decaying demons fell to the scorched ground, I detected a faint, sulfurous odor that fumed outwardly from their bodies. Thankfully, on the right, the heavenly warriors emitted a rather pleasant perfume that bathed everyone who was surrounded by the mysterious light, including me.
The decayed appearance of the demons on the left contrasted with the brilliance of the angels on the right. These humanlike beings wore full armor that hugged their muscular bodies like a wetsuit. Their silver helmets were conformed to their heads and glistened in the golden light that surrounded them. Their dimensions appeared comparable in size to the demons, except that the angels appeared toned and healthy. I marveled at their appearance and shiny silver armor.
Although their helmets wrapped around their heads, I could see the outline of their faces, which appeared proportionately human—although their eyes resembled flames of fire. Their wings, which were several feet long, flapped in response as they attacked the demons. The angels wielded swords the length of their bodies, which reflected the light rays, to penetrate the demon bodies. I think the light rays and not the swords toppled the demons, because demons fell from the reflective rays alone.
I don’t know if the angels and the fallen demons lying on the ground died outright, because the figures would disintegrate into something dust-like. The dust of the stricken angels floated upward into the light, but the dust from the fallen demons descended into a pitch-black abyss below—a pit that appeared darker than black. At the base of the pit, I noticed a glowing orange cast like that of an active volcano. Even peering into the abyss elicited a sense of hopelessness stronger than anything I ever felt before. I dared not look above me because the light rays poured down with a force greater than sunlight. Even so, I realized that the light did not burn me.
At this point, I neither feared nor felt confused by this otherworldly theater. I simply assimilated all that I beheld as a spectator of a sporting event. Somehow, I knew that the angels represented my team, if only because a few had given me a confident nod. Only one of the demons tried to look at me, but instantly darted away while shielding his burning red eyes from the light that scorched it like a consuming flame of fire.
The same light glistened within and around the angels in crystalline sparkles. It seemed clear to me that the light from above emitted the angels’ life source but scorched and destroyed the demons. Din from the clanging of swords and the thumping of fists on arms extending the length of bodies left me wondering why I perceived this fearsome match. Yet I remained at peace, as if the outcome had been predetermined.
I noticed a difference as the angels felled more demons than vice versa. I watched the angels begin to recover territory from the demons, including a scorched knoll that had faded mountains in the distance. A faint whisper blew feelings of encouragement into my ear, not as audible words but as feelings or impressions. Each time one of the demons fell, a word echoed not so much in my ears but in my soul. This gave me a sense of knowing that good triumphed—as testified to by an infinite calm.
Conversely, when an angel fell, only thumping and screaming resonated within me; a sound eliciting fear and anxiety. Before entering this space and even before entering the hospital, I had often felt abandoned by God because of my losses and the sufferings of my wife and family. Shortly before I died, I had even stopped praying and going to church. Before my heart stopped, I had wrongly assumed that God didn’t care. I didn’t pray for God’s help, even while I was suffering in the hospital.
As the whispery feelings from the angels echoed within me, I found a renewed thankfulness for God. I would later learn that the victory of the angels over the demons had opened a space through which the angels could impute the Holy Spirit’s impressions upon my soul. I supposed that it worked the way a storm clears the air, so that broadcasting waves could be heard more clearly after the din. Only later would I understand the fullness of God’s Storm. Those “broadcasting waves” happened to be the Holy Spirit’s unfettered communications with me.
Somehow, the victory of the angels over the demons had opened an impartation in my soul which emboldened me to cry out the name of Jesus, in praise of Him. Years later, I would understand that the battle I had witnessed was over the legal right to speak to my tormented soul.
“Jesus!” My declaration spoke more than just a name. I cried out with absolute surrender as one might cave to sleep after being thoroughly drained from the cares of the world—and yet, I felt more alive than ever.
At that moment, a figure stood to my right and gently rested His bearded cheek onto mine as He embraced my side with His left arm. My first thought was, So this is Love. Even now as I write this account, I must admit that I am weeping because of the intense emotions I felt at that first encounter. No words can adequately explain my full immersion in the perfect peace, comfort, and assurance I experienced for the first time in my life. I implicitly knew the figure as Jesus, and felt as if all of my yearnings were consummated at that first meeting. I was home. I was at perfect peace, knowing that my journey in life was complete.
More important was the overwhelming, singular feeling of being in the presence of Love Himself. This was not “love” as an emotion or sense. It was the feeling of being penetrated with an awareness of God’s love for me and an assimilation of that love, filling me with immense gratitude and a desire to love God and everyone in return. I would give you an analogy, but no analogies exist for meeting the person of love. Suffice it to say that “love” no longer existed as a word or an understanding. Love, as we know it in this world, fails to approximate any experience associated with worldly living.
In Heaven, the ever-evading definition of “love” that many struggle with in this world, no longer meant anything. That’s because love—Jesus—comprises the very definition of existence in Heaven. Indeed, love’s true source is Jesus, and the full composition of Heaven is imbued with love.
I dropped to my knees. A dam of emotions broke forth into an effusive outpouring of devotion.
“My God!” I cried out.
Live Boldly and Fearlessly in these Last Days
Do you feel overwhelmed by the amount of evil in the world today? Do you long to know God's plan for these turbulent times—and your vital role in them?
After clinically dying in a hospital, Randy Kay experienced a life-altering, firsthand encounter with Jesus where he received crucial end times revelations. And now, with the last days upon us, God has given Randy renewed clarity—and urgency—of what he witnessed in Heaven.
For the first time ever, Randy reveals not only these astounding, prophetic end-of-days revelations, but also the magnitude of their significance for the unprecedented times we’re in, equipping you to fulfill your role in God’s plans for the end times.
With supernatural insight and accuracy, Randy guides you through the confusion and fear of these last days, equipping you to:
Discern and partner with what God is doing.
Discover the truth about the final days.
Recognize biblical prophecies being fulfilled in real time.
Prepare for the coming divine judgment.
Take your place in the end times harvest.
Yes, the last days are upon us. But it’s time to stop living in fear! Instead position yourself for the imminent Holy Spirit outpouring and step confidently into your end times Kingdom destiny!
