THE WORDS WERE out of my mouth before I realized I was saying them, not just thinking them. I sat there, wishing for all the world that I could get up and run out. Judging from the look on his face, he was going to attribute this to the gash in my head and not take me at all seriously. But what else could I do?

The minute I saw him I had this incredible sense of déjà vu. But it wasn’t because I’d seen him on television or in movies; I just knew somehow that this was a totally different thing. And then suddenly the memory of music and warmth and heaven washed over me, and I realized that I had seen his face in my mind when I had been unconscious. It was him I was supposed to … well, save.

The poor man probably thought I had either been rendered mute from the accident or was out of my mind, because all I could do was stare at him as I frantically thought about how exactly you tell someone that God has given you a message to give to them. It was totally and completely clear to me that this was the man, and I was supposed to help him, but I knew he would think me totally mad. What was I supposed to do? Surely God wasn’t expecting him to take this seriously! But could I really just say, “Not now, God; maybe later”? I hadn’t been a Christian for very long, but I was pretty sure that this was not how one worked with Him. I just wished He could have introduced us in a less painful way.

He looked at me with a face that said both “I beg your pardon?” and “How much morphine are you on, anyway?” I wanted to hide under the covers. I tried to laugh it off, which hurt, but I was willing to endure the pain to try to somehow salvage this encounter. “I know that’s probably the most ridiculous thing anyone has ever said to you, and please believe that I’m not mentally unstable and I’m not delirious and that I know how bizarre it is for a total stranger to say that to you.” I paused, thinking. “I don’t know if I can even explain it, really. But I had this vision—except it wasn’t a vision, it was more real than that, as though I was actually there—I think it was heaven, believe it or not, and … God was talking to me, except He wasn’t exactly talking.” I stopped and smiled, realizing I was probably making no sense at all. “I never put much stock in near-death experiences, but I guess maybe—”

“You stopped breathing.”

I frowned. “What?”