kklynch's Blog

this is the story of my pastor and how he was almost taken to be with God
this shows that through the power of prayer is so great that even God will
be merciful and send our loved ones back IF they are ment to do even more in life
we find at my church that my pastor is supposed to use this experience
to show others the power of God.

GOD BLESS

Resurrection day - Harry Pishcura Carl E. Feather        New Life Assembly of God (Geneva, Ohio) Pastor Harry Pishcura's life ended on November 17, 2004 -- at least long enough to glimpse heaven. But speedy medical response and much prayer sees Pishcura released from hospital within a week. Pishcura once again ministering to people of Geneva, only this time, as a man "who was raised from the dead."
      New Life Assembly of God (Geneva, Ohio) Pastor Harry Pishcura's heart stopped beating about 7:15 a.m. November 17, 2004. He was in bed next to his wife Dawn, who was dozing while Harry prayed with another believer over a telephone headset.
       Dawn says she noticed that her husband made a strange sound then stopped talking. She checked on him, but there was no response. Quickly ending the conversation with the caller, she dialed 9-1-1 and yelled for their daughter Angeline, a licensed practical nurse who lives with them.
      Angeline started CPR on her father. Two minutes later, emergency medical technicians arrived and tried to revive Harry. They repeatedly shocked Harry's heart. It took seven attempts to bring him back.
       At University Hospitals Health System (UHHS) Geneva Memorial Hospital, Harry's heart was shocked twice more. The doctor did his best to save Harry -- the sole breadwinner for a family of 12.
      "But he didn't give Harry a hope or a chance," says Dawn.
      Harry was transported to UHHS in Cleveland by helicopter. There, a heart catheterization was performed on the 52-year-old pastor, but no blockages were found. "The arteries were clear," Dawn says. "There was no bleeding in the brain, either."
      The only clue was found in his blood chemistry. Harry had low magnesium and potassium levels, essential for maintaining heart health. He'd been on a 40-day fast prior to the November election, and the lack of nutrition from that fast is believed to be a factor in triggering the heart attack.
       Dawn says the doctor told her that the survival rate for this type of heart attack is only 5 percent. However, from a medical standpoint, Harry had in his favor the quick action of Angeline and the fast response of the EMT crew. From a supernatural view, he had the advantage of thousands of people all over the world praying for him.
       Word spread throughout the community, over telephone lines, radio waves, e-mail - even to the AG National Prayer Center - in the minutes and hours immediately following the heart attack.
       During this time, Dawn repeatedly read Psalm 116, that day's Bible reading, to her unconscious husband. Its words seemed to have been written specifically for their situation.
       Dawn says another verse kept coming to her mind, one that she'd received from God when she went through some health difficulties of her own five months earlier.
       "Women received their dead raised to life again," Hebrews 11:35.
       She couldn't understand why that verse had been given to her at the time, but now it made sense. Her husband had literally died, and she was being asked to believe that he would be raised to life again.
       The cardiologist told Dawn that the two days following the heart attack would tell the story.  "If he didn't come out of it in two days, the chances were that he'd never wake up," she says.  "And if he did, he would be brain damaged."
       Dawn played the song "Reign" for her husband through headphones, read Psalm 116 and prayed by his bedside during the days he lay in a coma. When the church gathered to hold a prayer service on November 18, Harry "listened" in through a telephone connection.
       It was a telephone call from their youngest sons, John, 4, and Joe, 6, that finally roused Harry from his coma. Frustrated by not getting a response from their comatose father, they hollered "I LOVE YOU" into the phone.
       "That's when I started to respond," Harry says.
       He had been in a coma three days.
       During the next four days, Harry slowly regained his speech and motor control.
       Shortly after he came out of the coma, Dawn asked her husband if he had seen heaven during the time he was dead. "He said, 'Yeah, I saw it, and it was beautiful,'" she says.
      Harry has since lost that memory, but during a worship service, he says God gave him a brief recollection of his brief visit to eternity. "The purity, the brightness of it, was like a stepping outside on a sunny day with the snow glimmering," he says.
      Seven days after the heart attack, Harry was released from the hospital. Tests indicated that there was no damage to the heart.
      "It was a real miracle," he says.
      On January 23, a combined service (the church holds two Sunday morning services) of more than 200 people gathered at the Geneva Community Center to praise God for answered prayer and welcome their pastor back to the pulpit for a portion of the service.
      Although Harry still struggles with his memory -- about three months of it are missing except bits and pieces -- physically, his magnesium level has approached the low end of normal.
       "This experience has caused us as a church to realize we will have a defibrillator at our new church," he says.
       "Our pastor was legally dead, and God brought him back to life because of the saints praying," says church deacon Joe Joswick.
      Joswick says a congregation that witnesses this kind of miracle occurring right before its eyes can't help but be strengthened in its faith.
      Harry has a unique testimony that he joyfully shares with others, particularly the youngsters who find his story fascinating in an almost biblical sort of way.
      "I tell them if anybody tells you there is no God, you can tell them that there's this guy who died and who was raised from the dead, and you can see him at New Life Assembly of God," Harry says.

An atheist was taking a walk through the woods "What majestic trees! What powerful rivers! What beautiful animals!" he said to himself. As he continued walking alongside the river he heard a rustling in the bushes. Turning to look, he saw a 7 foot grizzly charging towards him.

He ran as fast as he could up the path. Looking over his shoulder he saw that the bear was closing in on him. His heart was pumping frantically and he tried to run even faster.

He tripped and fell on the ground. He rolled over to pick himself up but saw the bear raising his paw to take a swipe at him. At that instant the atheist cried out: "Oh my God..."
Time stopped.
The bear froze.
The forest was silent.
It was then that a bright light shone down upon the man and a voice came out of the sky saying: "You deny my existence for all of these years, teach others I don't exist, and even credit creation to a cosmic accident. Do you expect me to help you out of this predicament? Am I to count you as a believer?"
The atheist looked directly into the light, "It would be hypocritical of me to suddenly ask you to treat me as a Christian now, but perhaps, could you make the bear a Christian?"
"Very well," said the voice.
The light went out.
And the sounds of the forest resumed.
Then the bear lowered his paw, bowed his head and spoke: "Lord, bless this food which I am about to receive and for which I am truly thankful. Amen."

17-year-old Brian Moore had only a short time to write something for a class. The subject was what Heaven was like. "I wowed 'em," he later told his father, Bruce. "It's a killer. It's the bomb. It's the best thing I ever wrote.." It also was the last.

Brian Moore died May 27, 1997, the day after Memorial Day. He was driving home from a friend's house when his car went off Bulen-Pierce Road in Pickaway County and struck a utility pole. He emerged from the wreck unharmed but stepped on a downed power line and was electrocuted.

The Moores framed a copy of Brian's essay and hung it among the family portraits in the living room. "I think God used him to make a point. I think we were meant to find it and make something out of it," Mrs. Moore said of the essay. She and her husband want to share their son's vision of life after death. "I'm happy for Brian. I know he's in heaven.. I know I'll see him."

Brian's Essay: The Room...

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I have liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was.

This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.

A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I have betrayed." The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I have Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed at ." Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've yelled at my brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger", "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents.

Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.

When I pulled out the file marked "TV Shows I have watched", I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast time I knew that file represented.

When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content.

I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.

Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh.

And then I saw it.. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.

And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him.

No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own.

He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me.. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.

Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. "No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards.. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side.

He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished." I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.


"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."-Phil. 4:13 "For God so loved the world that He gave His only son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life." If you feel the same way forward it so the love of Jesus will touch their lives also. My "People I shared the gospel with" file just got bigger, how about yours?

IF THERE IS ONE EMAIL THAT I HAVE READ THAT NEEDS TO GO AROUND THE WORLD, IT IS THIS ONE, FOR THE CHRISTIAN OR NOT! MAY GOD BLESS YOU ALL!

You don't have to share this with anybody, no one will know whether you did or not, but what do you feel in your heart?

     "LET ME EXPLAIN THE problem science has with Jesus Christ." The atheist professor of philosophy pauses before his class and then asks one of his new students to stand. "You're a Christian, aren't you, son?"
     "Yes, sir."
     "So you believe in God?"
     "Absolutely."
     "Is God good?"
     "Sure! God's good."
     "Is God all-powerful? Can God do anything?"
     "Yes."
     "Are you good or evil?"
     "The Bible says I'm evil."

     The professor grins knowingly. "Ahh! THE BIBLE!" He considers for a moment. "Here's one for you. Let's say there's a sick person over here and you can cure him. You can do it. Would you help them? Would you try?"
     "Yes sir, I would."
     "So you're good...!"
     "I wouldn't say that."
     "Why not say that? You would help a sick and maimed person if you could...in fact most of us would if we could....God doesn't."
     [No answer]
     "He doesn't, does he? My brother was a Christian who died of cancer even though he prayed to Jesus to heal him. How is this Jesus good? Hmmm? Can you answer that one?"
     [No answer]
     The elderly man is sympathetic. "No, you can't, can you?" He takes a sip of water from a glass on his desk to give the student time to relax. "In philosophy, you have to go easy with the new ones. Let's start again, young fella. Is God good?"

     "Er... Yes."
     "Is Satan good?"
     "No."
     "Where does Satan come from?"
     The student falters. "From... God..."
     "That's right. God made Satan, didn't he?" The elderly man runs his bony fingers through his thinning hair and turns to the smirking student audience. "I think we're going to have a lot of fun this semester, ladies and gentlemen." He turns back to the Christian. "Tell me, son. Is there evil in this world?"

     "Yes, sir."
     "Evil's everywhere, isn't it? Did God make everything?"
     "Yes."
     "Who created evil?"
     [No answer]
     "Is there sickness in this world? Immorality? Hatred? Ugliness. All the terrible things - do they exist in this world? "
     The student squirms on his feet. "Yes."
     "Who created them?"
     [No answer]
     The professor suddenly shouts at his student, "WHO CREATED THEM? TELL ME, PLEASE!" The professor closes in for the kill and climbs into the Christian's face. In a still small voice, he asked, "God created all evil, didn't He, son?"
     [No answer]
     The student tries to hold the steady, experienced gaze and fails. Suddenly the lecturer breaks away to pace the front of the classroom like an aging panther. The class is mesmerized. "Tell me," he continues, "How is it that this God is good if He created all evil throughout all time?" The professor swishes his arms around to encompass the wickedness of the world. "All the hatred, the brutality, all the pain, all the torture, all the death and ugliness and all the suffering created by this good God is all over the world, isn't it, young man?"
     [No answer]
     "Don't you see it all over the place? Huh?" Pause. "Don't you?" The professor leans into the student's face again and
     whispers, "Is God good?"
     [No answer]

     "Do you believe in Jesus Christ, son?"
     The student's voice betrays him and cracks. "Yes, professor. I do."
     The old man shakes his head sadly. "Science says you have five senses you use to identify and observe the world around you. Have you ever seen Jesus?"
     "No, sir. I've never seen Him."
     "Then tell us if you've ever heard your Jesus?"
     "No, sir. I have not."
     "Have you ever felt your Jesus, tasted your Jesus or smelt your Jesus... in fact, do you have any sensory perception of your God whatsoever?"
     [No answer]
     "Answer me, please."
     "No, sir, I'm afraid I haven't."
     "You're AFRAID... you haven't?"
     "No, sir."
     "Yet you still believe in him?"
     "...yes..."
     "That takes FAITH!" The professor smiles sagely at the underling. "According to the rules of empirical, testable, demonstrable protocol, science says your God doesn't exist. What do you say to that, son? Where is your God now?"
     [The student doesn't answer]
     "Sit down, please."

     The first Christian sits...defeated.

     Another Christian raises his hand. "Professor, may I address the class?"

     The professor turns and smiles. "Ah, yet another Christian in the vanguard! Come, come, young man. Speak some proper wisdom to the gathering."

     The Christian looks around the room. "Some interesting points you are making, sir. Now I've got a question for you. Is there such thing as heat?"
     "Yes," the professor replies. "There's heat."
     "Is there such a thing as cold?"
     "Yes, son, there's cold too."
     "No, sir, there isn't."
     The professor's grin freezes. The room suddenly becomes very quiet. The second Christian continues.
     "You can have lots of heat, even more heat, super-heat, mega-heat, white heat, a little heat or no heat, but we don't have anything called 'cold'. We can hit 273 degrees below zero, which is no heat, but we can't go any further after that. There is no such thing as cold, otherwise we would be able to go colder than -273°C. You see, sir, cold is only a word we use to describe the absence of heat. We cannot measure cold. Heat we can measure in thermal units because heat is energy. Cold is not the opposite of heat, sir, just the absence of it."

     Silence. A pin drops somewhere in the classroom.

     "Is there such a thing as darkness, professor?"
     "That's a dumb question, son. What is night if it isn't darkness? What are you getting at...?"
     "So you say there is such a thing as darkness?"
     "Yes..."
     "You're wrong again, sir. Darkness is not something, it is the absence of something. You can have low light, normal light, bright light, flashing light... but if you have no light constantly you have nothing and it's called darkness, isn't it? That's the meaning we use to define the word. In reality, Darkness isn't. If it were, you would be able to make darkness darker and give me a jar of it. Can you... give me a jar of darker darkness, professor?"

     Despite himself, the professor smiles at the young effrontery before him. This will indeed be a good semester. "Would you mind telling us what your point is, young man?"
     "Yes, professor. My point is, your philosophical premise is flawed to start with and so your conclusion must be in error...."
     The professor goes toxic. "Flawed...? How dare you...!"
     "Sir, may I explain what I mean?"
     The class is all ears.
     "Explain... ohhhhh, explain..." The professor makes an admirable effort to regain control. Suddenly he is affability himself. He waves his hand to silence the class, for the student to continue.

     "You are working on the premise of duality," the Christian explains. "That for example there is life and then there's death; a good God and a bad God. You are viewing the concept of God as something finite, something we can measure. Sir, science cannot even explain a thought. It uses electricity and magnetism but has never seen, much less fully understood them. To view death as the opposite of life is to be ignorant of the fact that death cannot exist as a substantive thing. Death is not the opposite of life, merely the absence of it." The young man holds up a newspaper he takes from the desk of a neighbor who has been reading it. "Here is one of the most disgusting tabloids this country hosts, professor. Is there such a thing as immorality?"
     "Of course there is, now look..."
     "Wrong again, sir. You see, immorality is merely the absence of morality. Is there such thing as injustice? No. Injustice is the absence of justice. Is there such a thing as evil?" The Christian pauses. "Isn't evil the absence of good?"

     The professor's face has turned an alarming color. He is so angry he is temporarily speechless.
     The Christian continues, "If there is evil in the world, professor, and we all agree there is, then God, if He exists, must be accomplishing a work through the agency of evil.1 What is that work God is accomplishing? The Bible tells us it is to see if each one of us will, of our own free will, choose good over evil."2
     The professor bridles. "As a philosophical scientist, I don't view this matter as having anything to do with any choice; as a realist, I absolutely do not recognize the concept of God or any other theological factor as being part of the world equation because God is not observable."

     The Christian replies, "I would have thought that the absence of God's moral code in this world is probably one of the most observable phenomena going, Newspapers make billions of dollars reporting it every week! Tell me, professor. Do you teach your students that they evolved from a monkey?"
     "If you are referring to the natural evolutionary process, young man, yes, of course I do."
     "Have you ever observed evolution with your own eyes, sir?"
     The professor makes a sucking sound with his teeth and gives his student a silent, stony stare.
     "Professor. Since no one has ever observed the process of evolution at work and cannot even prove that this process is an on-going endeavor, are you not teaching your opinion, sir? Are you now not a scientist, but a preacher?"
     "I'll overlook your impudence in the light of our philosophical discussion. Now, have you quite finished?" the professor hisses.
     "So you don't accept God's moral code to do what is righteous?"
     "I believe in what is - that's science!"
     "Ahh! SCIENCE!" the student's face splits into a grin. "Sir, you rightly state that science is the study of observed phenomena. Science too is a premise which is flawed..."
     "SCIENCE IS FLAWED..?" the professor splutters.

     The class is in uproar. The Christian remains standing until the commotion has subsided. "To continue the point you were making earlier to the other student, may I give you an example of what I mean?"
     The professor wisely keeps silent.

     The Christian looks around the room. "Is there anyone in the class who has ever seen the professor's mind?" The class breaks out into laughter. The Christian points towards his elderly, crumbling tutor. "Is there anyone here who has ever heard the professor's mind... felt the professor's mind, touched or smelt the professor's mind? No one appears to have done so." The Christian shakes his head sadly. "It appears no one here has had any sensory perception of the professor's mind whatsoever. Well, according to the rules of empirical, stable, demonstrable protocol, science, I DECLARE that the professor has no mind."

     The class is in chaos.

     The Christian sits.

---

If you didn't get it, here is a brief synopsis. The atheist argument is that since God created everything, He is responsible for the creation of evil. However, "evil" is a word that we use to describe certain things that happen to us (most of which are caused by other people). In reality, it is not a physically created thing at all and, therefore, does not fall within the realm of something created by God. So, the argument is fundamentally flawed. As stated on this site, evil is allowed by God so that free will beings can choose between good (i.e., God) or evil (absence of God). Without evil, it is not possible to choose between good and evil, and the universe would have no ultimate purpose.