Angel Day

By Shiloh Shepherd

This book began as individual stories from children who had died from different reasons. A common thread tied them all together. That feeling of being watched was the presence of their guardian angels gone to take them through their final day on earth, thus the title Angel Day.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Dec 18, 2018
• ISBN: 9781973647034

Shiloh Shepherd

Shiloh Shepherd has a unique gift of painting pictures with words in a way that allows the reader to transcend those descriptive writings into an accurate and captivating vision. The reader will see what he saw, hear what he heard, and in a way even savor the incredible fragrance of heaven as he describes each event with eloquence and grace.

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Copyright © 2018 Shiloh Shepherd.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.westbowpress.com

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-9736-4704-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-9736-4703-4 (e)

WestBow Press rev. date: 12/17/2018

Contents

Preface

Acknowledgement

Introduction

Chapter 1 Crystal – The Flowers Are Alive

Chapter 2 Rhoda & Timon – Happy Tears Have Purpose

Chapter 3 Zebah – No Shadows in Heaven

Chapter 4 Asher – Heaven’s full of Friends

Chapter 5 Susanna – The End is a New Beginning

Chapter 6 Blaze – Prayer is the Seed of Miracles

Chapter 7 H Anna H – A Double Blessing of Grace

Chapter 8 AMY – Butterfly Dust

Chapter 9 Theresa – Born in the Presence

Chapter 10 THE LAMB – Jesus

Dedication

In memory of Tina Marie. My soulmate and best friend who was the first to see the beauty of heaven as revealed throughout this book. After reading the very first chapter, she could not wait to experience heaven for herself. By the grace of God, she has arrived.

Preface

I had decided to attend an afternoon service at the Chapel only to find out that the guest speaker had cancelled only moments before the service was to begin. Unwilling to repeat the morning message, the Chaplain decided to entertain the congregation with a Christian comedy DVD. I’ve always enjoyed making people laugh so I decided to stay.

About ten minutes in, I received a vision of a young child trapped in a house fire. I made a quick note that simply read, Fire, no time to get out. I knew that with a little prayer, I would understand the vision later. Several minutes later I saw in my minds eye a tragic situation where two children were helplessly submerged in a car. Slightly confused by the vision I simply wrote, Drowned. Shortly after that yet another scenario plays out where a very young boy was used as a weapon of ear. I knew the word Bomb would give me enough recall to bring it up in prayer for understanding.

These visions continued throughout the DVD to a total of nine separate and very different events, all leading to the untimely demise of a child, or children. I would later come to recognize thread between all the stories. All the children had a sense they were not alone. The common thread turned out to be their guardian angels who had come to take them through whatever it was that would ultimately land them in Heaven.

At first, I could not wrap my head around the purpose for the visions. Then one day beginning with the house fire, I began to write the words placed in my spirit. As I began to share the stories with others, the purpose was clear.

If for a moment a grieving parent could be comforted from the loss of their own child by hearing from Heaven, the stories have served their purpose. It was only through the eyes of my ailing wife was a second and equally powerful purpose revealed. After reading the first story she asked me tearfully, How can you know Heaven is so beautiful? My reply was simply, Does it make you want to go there? She said, More than ever before. That was the moment I knew these stories were but chapters of something greater.

My prayer is that through the beautiful tales of the children, hearts are comforted over loss, and made hungry for heaven.

Acknowledgement

I began by praising God for giving me the inspiration to begin and the strength to persevere. I want to thank Tina for her love and support throughout the process. I also want to thank my three children, Jenna, Brian, and Nicole who gave unsolicited inspirations through their character. I want to thank Mr. Dean who painstakingly typed and retyped each chapter with the diligence of a saint. Lastly, I want to thank Pastor Goodwin for believing in the power of the stories enough to encourage me to take it all the way. He saw the hand of God upon each and every story.

Introduction

We are born into this world as mere mortals with an innate fear of death. In our humanness the very thought of life as we know it coming to an end sparks a flow of paralyzing emotions that can strike terror in the strongest of hearts. Angel Day comes from the innocent voices of a few children who faced the experience head on. The joy in their stories is that they didn’t have to go it alone.

Each and every child had guardian angels unveil themselves at a moment in time ordained by heaven. They helped the children get through the situation they were about to experience that ultimately brought them into the incredibly beautiful garden of God in the rolling hills of Heaven.

Angel Day gives us a possible glimpse into the heavens and the heart of a loving God. One of the greatest fears of man will be transformed into the grandest of joys. An immeasurable joy in the presence of the Lamb through the voice of the children

Some of the literary scenes I have painted in this work depict clearly sinful behaviors. These actions are clearly against God’s will or counter what is commanded in Scripture. This author believes The wages of sin is death and repentance is necessary to atone for sinful behavior.

1

Crystal

The Flowers Are Alive

From the very moment I opened my eyes, I was amazed. Even though this place was unfamiliar, it felt incredibly safe. Everything looked perfect yet so uniquely delicate in a sacred kind of way. I found myself standing in the largest, most beautiful flower garden I had ever seen with acres upon acres of what appeared to be flowers with electrically charged blossoms, the colors of which I’m at a loss to properly describe. As I spun around to thoroughly enjoy this visual gift of glory spread before me, I caught sight of what I believe to be the centerpiece of this magical place. Just below the crest of the closest hill, stood a single most magnificent tree proudly straddling a shimmering crystal river that wound its way through the garden at a leisurely pace. Even those with a wandering mind couldn’t help but notice that the branches of this legendary behemoth bore many different kinds of fruit.

All these fresh sensations were so remarkable yet quite mystical in a supernatural kind of way. The sights were more than just some romantic visions of my youth. They were breath taking sights of splendor beyond my wildest dreams.

The smells that filled the air rode upon drifting currents of angel breath that carried an essence of affection straight to the center of my heart.

The ethereal sounds of the wind twirled around my mind searching out the delightful echoes of my yesterdays that linger on the surface of my soul.

I wondered for a moment what true joy would sound like, and that’s when I heard children’s laughter. I knew that sound well. With two younger brothers, I had enjoyed countless hours of their cheerfulness. There was no doubt it was an innocent children’s laughter, but something was different. It wasn’t the ornery giggles of my past. This laughter was nothing short of love. It was a pure laughter, like that of a ticklish toddler. The kind of laughter that high – spirited children offer, and offer it, they did.

I turned this way and that as they came from all directions. Some were skipping and dancing while others were singing, but it was plain to see that all were filled with a heavenly happiness. My arrival had signaled an interruption to an effortless labor of love that they all seemed to share. They couldn’t wait to greet the precious new arrivals and I quickly realized that I was this most recent newcomer. They didn’t see me as an interruption. I was more like an opportunity for a celebration.

Though most of my memories prior to my arrival are a bit fuzzy, I do recall how quiet and bashful I used to be. I say used to be because now not only am I full of life, I am out-going, friendly, and instantly fond of these new-found friends. The garden is overflowing with children that feel like family. It doesn’t feel strange, it feels fantastic. As I began to greet them, some with a handshake and others with a hug, I struggled to make sense of a situation that had no reasonable explanation. I was simply overwhelmed. Nothing in my brief fifteen years of life could have prepared me for this awesome display of paradise.

I had heard legendary tales of an unbelievably gorgeous garden that was said to be full of love. They called it Eden. I couldn’t help but wonder, is this the second Eden?

The colors in this place seem alive with their radiant shades of praise and glory as if they are beaming with joy, hope and love. The unique aroma that saturates the senses is best described as the fragrance of affection. Several of the older kids call it the sweet smell of perfection. The sounds that fill the air seem to come from everywhere and everything at the same time, blending together in a harmonious unity where each note, each tone, and every vibration flow together with an angelic ecstasy that is felt more than heard. It’s a soul stirring sound of both reverence and worship.

My new friends say that I’ll never get used to it as it quickens fresh emotions continuously. They told me to allow it to touch my heart, and then join in on its healing symphony of thanksgiving. Still lightly burdened with an adolescent curiosity, I searched for the source of this magical music that moved us. That’s when I noticed that as we moved, the flowers were moving with us. They were alive and as full of joy as we were. It was the flowers that were making most of these exceptional sounds. It wasn’t music as I knew it, not really. The flowers weren’t just singing. It was as if they were birthing spirit filled echoes of harmony with a soul. The melody had life. The tempo had heart, and the tune was so virginally pure. The flowers love us, and we love them too.

The garden had become my favorite place to be. It has a way of sprinkling the air with an emotion of total surrender where we freely and completely give our hearts to the One who gave us the very life we hold. The moment He gives us that life, He also gives us a protector, a guardian angel all our own.

With every observation came revelation, every fresh discovery brought wisdom, and each adventure brought me closer to my friends. I was finally learning the greatest lesson of all, unconditional love. And this was only my first day where a day is like a thousand years and a thousand years are like a day. A place where time is now eternal.

I was learning so much that I wished it would never end. I thought I would be sad when we had to leave the garden for lunch, but sadness was an emotion that no longer existed in my heart.

My spirit was renewed with joy when I heard that our destination was that single tree standing in the heart of the garden. We gathered beneath the canopy of its low hanging branches heavily burdened by the weight of its bountiful reward. This awe-inspiring tree I would soon learn is in fact that same legendary tree that scriptures speak of in the Garden of Eden. Now, like the tree, I also find myself in this second Eden; and now it’s also my eternal home forever. The tree carries the title of The Tree of Life because once you eat of its fruit, you also live forever. The fruit that gives us eternal life has an equally important purpose of removing the painful memories of our past trials and tribulations. This gives us a rather short window of opportunity to share the stories of our yesterdays, those days before the garden.

As the crowd of children grew, the taller kids began picking the fruit of our own choosing. Because they didn’t look like any fruit I’d ever seen, I chose the one closest to my favorite color. I know my description of the flavor doesn’t do it justice, because there is little to compare it with. Try and imagine the taste of a honey covered cloud dipped in love and lightly dusted with a sprinkle of blessedness where you can taste life in every bite.

It only took a second for me to see the growing excitement the children placed upon this glorious intermission. They smiled openly because they had already experienced all these wildly exciting things that were so very new to me.

Since I was the latest arrival, my story would be a new one, so they asked me to go first. I began by taking them back to fond memories of Christmas and birthdays. Joy flowed through the crowd like a gentle wave as I spoke of my loving mother and father. I shared the stories of their sacrifices and triumphs. I talked about a family love they all remembered. Their restless stir revealed that the emotion of love was an exception to our fading memories. The fruit actually put the spotlight on love. Our tender-hearted memories of love would remain forever.

I shared many tales of past adventures with my friends. There were smiles galore as I spoke of my little brothers, my pets, and my old friends. Of course, at only fifteen I spoke about many unfulfilled hopes and dreams. There was even a moment when I asked if I was dreaming right then. That brought both laughter and applause.

Though I felt like I had been talking for hours, time was of no importance. Time had no value in the garden. It was love that held the highest purpose, and I could feel that love increase with every word. No one judged. No one interrupted. Everyone just listened. It was as if they were all waiting for some familiar occurrence, a common thread that binds us all together.

A wave of silence swept through the children as I began to recount the feelings of an unknown presence like I was being watched. As I relived those impressions of my final day before the garden, they began to nod their heads with knowing smiles that told me my experience was not that uncommon. That was the obvious thread that tied our final adventures together, the familiar connection they were expecting.

Several of the older kids helped me through the tender emotions that welled up inside as I replayed those most recent memories. As I brought to light the things that made sense, others helped with the puzzling mysteries still beyond my understanding. The first of which was that unknown presence.

I began to focus the rest of my story on that final day. It seemed to pass quickly for the most part, quite like all the days before. But as evening approached, everything seemed to slow down. As I recall, the feeling that I wasn’t alone grew stronger.

Even though my story had just begun, a quiet whisper about angels began to sweep through the curious crowd. That’s when one of the older kids, spoke openly about angels, as the youngsters were describing what they called, bird-people.

One thing for sure, they all, myself included, distinctly remembered the wings. Of course, all those in the garden, we completely understood who this heavenly custodial presence was,