Boy Returns From Death With A HORRIFIYING Message From Jesus- Jesus NDE Terrifying Testimony

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My name is Taylor, and I never imagined that I would be telling a story like this. Before everything happened, I was just a regular teenager, concerned with school, friends, and my phone. Faith? It wasn’t something I thought about much. But the day I died, everything changed. What I saw, what I heard—it was real. It was terrifying. And I can’t stay silent.

It was a normal morning, like any other. I woke up to my mom calling me for breakfast, groaned, and spent a few more minutes scrolling on my phone before finally dragging myself out of bed. I got dressed, grabbed my backpack, and headed out.

My mind was occupied with weekend plans, school drama, and text messages—definitely not with thoughts of God. Church was something I sat through for my mom’s sake, nothing more. I had no idea that I was just hours away from an experience that most people never return from.

Lunch at school was like always—loud and full of chatter. My best friend cracked a joke, and we laughed until our stomachs hurt. I barely remember the moment now because of what happened next. After lunch, I was standing by my locker when my friend called me to walk outside with her. I slammed my locker shut and jogged to catch up. We were halfway across the parking lot when I heard it: screeching tires.

I turned just in time to see a massive truck heading straight for me. My friend screamed, but I had no time to react. Then—impact. A force unlike anything I had ever felt lifted me off my feet. Pain exploded through my body. The world spun. Noise blurred together. Then, silence.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. The sky above me was still, the people around me unmoving. But something felt wrong. I wasn’t touching the ground anymore. Looking down, I saw my own body—twisted, lifeless—blood pooling beneath my head. My friend knelt beside me, screaming my name, shaking me. But I wasn’t there anymore. I was floating above it all, watching like a scene from a movie.

Then I felt it—something pulling me. It wasn’t gentle. It was strong and unrelenting, dragging me away from the world I had known. I fought, but I was powerless. That’s when I understood: I was dead.

At first, I thought I was going to heaven. That’s what’s supposed to happen, right? You see a bright light and move toward it? But there was no light—only darkness. The further I went, the colder I became. It felt like I was sinking into something thick, like ink or tar. Whispers surrounded me, voices murmuring words I couldn’t fully understand—but I knew they weren’t friendly. Then, another voice—deep, commanding, filled with power.

“STOP.”

Everything froze. The whispers, the pulling, the darkness—it all stopped in an instant. Then, there was light. Not just any light—it was alive, cutting through the darkness like fire through paper. And standing at the center of it was someone I knew before he even spoke. Jesus.

He didn’t look happy. His presence was overwhelming—not just light, but power. It filled everything, piercing through me, exposing every thought, every action I had ever taken. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. Then he looked at me, and I felt everything—love, sorrow, disappointment. I wanted to beg for mercy, but I had no control over myself. My entire being was laid bare before him. Then, he spoke.

“Taylor, do you know why you are here?”

I tried to answer, but no words came. He didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he lifted his hand, and suddenly, I saw my life. Every moment. Every choice. Every sin. It played before me like a movie, except I felt everything—the emotions, the consequences. Jesus wasn’t punishing me. He was showing me the truth.

Then, the vision changed. I saw something else. A world burning. People screaming. Darkness spreading across the earth like a plague. And worst of all—people walking into it willingly. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t.

“This is what is coming,” Jesus said.

As soon as he spoke, the light faded, and I was plunged into darkness. It was alive, suffocating. Shapes moved just beyond my vision. Whispers slithered through the air. Then, a voice deep and distorted spoke: “You don’t belong here… yet.”

I turned, trying to find the source, but there was no direction in this place—no up, no down. Then, I was falling. The pit swallowed me whole. The deeper I fell, the worse it became. The whispers became screams, cries of agony. Shadows turned into figures—twisted, writhing forms clawing at me. The stench of burning flesh filled the air. I knew where I was. Hell.

Then, a voice I recognized.

“Taylor, help me.”

A friend—someone I had laughed with, joked around with. His eyes met mine, filled with regret. I reached for him instinctively, but something grabbed my wrist. Jesus. He pulled me out, back into the light.

“Why?” I choked out.

Jesus looked at me, sorrow in his eyes. “Because they chose this.”

I wanted to argue. No one would choose that kind of suffering. But deep down, I knew what he meant. People reject him. They live like it doesn’t matter. And when their time comes, it’s too late.

Then, Jesus showed me the future. The earth split open, fires raged, storms tore through cities. People cried for help, but no one came. Darkness spread like a wave, swallowing everything. Demonic figures moved through the chaos, whispering lies, leading people further into destruction.

“This is what is to come if they do not turn back.”

Terror gripped me. “But people don’t know,” I pleaded.

Jesus nodded. “That is why I am sending you back.”

I didn’t want to leave. But his final words sent chills down my spine.

“Tell them. Warn them. Because soon, the door will close.”

Everything shifted. I felt my body again, pain rushing through me. I gasped, lungs filling with air. Voices screamed around me. “We have a pulse!” I had returned. But I was not the same.

No one understood what I had seen. Some laughed it off, some dismissed it. But I knew the truth. Hell is real. Heaven is real. And time is running out. I tried to live normally, but I couldn’t. Darkness still watched me, whispering doubts. But I remembered what Jesus had shown me—the power of his name. The demons had no power over those who belonged to him.

So, I began to tell my story. To my family, my friends, my church, anyone who would listen. Some believed, most didn’t. But it didn’t matter. My job wasn’t to make them believe. My job was to tell them.

And now, I’m telling you.

This isn’t just my story. It’s your warning. Jesus is real. Hell is real. Heaven is real. And soon, the door will close.

Don’t wait. Choose him now. Before it’s too late.

Sᴇᴇ Mᴏʀᴇ: Jesus ‘wasn’t called Jesus’ as scientists say Son of God went by something else

Jesus’ name has been through various different translation throughout the years, however historian now claim Jesus’ real name might be closer to the name we now know as ‘Joshua’

Jesus has been known as many names throughout the years (Image: Getty Images)

Jesus Christ probably had a totally different name, experts have sensationally claimed. Boffs reckon he would have gone by a moniker in his native language of Aramaic which would be unrecognisable to us.

It is a far cry from our modern tongue and the name Jesus has letters which were not even used in written language until 1,500 years after the ‘son of God’ died. The name of Christianity’s main figure has been mangled over time after being repeatedly translated – mutating from Aramaic to Hebrew, then Greek and into Latin.

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It finally received an English translation in the 16th century by which time it had become ‘Jesus’.

In Hebrew this name is written as “Yeshu” which is closer to the English name “Joshua.”(Image: Getty Images)

Linguists also claim the surname was not ‘Christ’ and instead would have been linked to his home town of Nazareth in Israel. It means Jesus’ real name was probably actually Yeshu Nazareen. Professor Dineke Houtman, an expert on the relationship between Judaism and Christianity said: “We cannot know for sure which languages Jesus spoke.

“However, given his family background in Nazareth, we can assume his day-to-day language was Aramaic.”

The religious studies boff, from the Protestant Theological University in the Netherlands, said Jesus with a hard ‘J’ wasn’t a name that existed at the time he lived.

Professor Houtman added: “His name would probably have been in Aramaic – Yeshua. It is likely that this is also how he introduced himself. Another possibility is the shorter form Yeshu which is the form used in later rabbinic literature.”

The name Yeshu was as popular as the name Arthur is today. Professor Candida Moss, of Birmingham University added: “Most scholars agree that his name was Yeshua or possibly Yeshu, which was one of the most common names in first-century Galilee.”

Jesus’ lived in a region called Judea that was under the control of the Roman Empire that is now located in modern day Israel and Palestine(Image: Getty Images)

And experts cast doubt on the name ‘Christ’ too. Historian Dr Marko Marina, of Zagreb University said: “In the ancient world, most people didn’t have a last name as we understand it today. Instead, they were identified through other means, such as their parentage, place of origin, or other distinguishing characteristics.

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“For example, someone might be referred to as ‘John, the son of Zebedee’ or ‘Mary Magdalene’, with ‘Magdalene’ probably indicating she was from a place called Magdala.”

Many scholars agree Jesus, who was frequently referred to as Jesus of Nazareth, would likely have incorporated his hometown into his name.