But why, you might ask, was God’s message delivered in such a confusing way? Why did I have to have a dream, and then read the Bible, and then read another book that led me to the Isaiah verse? Why didn’t God just explain things to me clearly? It’s because He needs us to choose Him. He needs us to want to find Him. If God just fed us instructions, we’d be nothing but puppets. But God didn’t create a world full of puppets; He created living, breathing people with free will. We don’t choose God because we have to. We choose God because we want to.
I believe now that’s why I witnessed those demonic attacks. They’ve been the hardest things for me to talk about and the events that make me worry the most about sharing. But they happened, plain and simple, and I’ve had to deal with them. They were another step toward recognizing that God is real. After all, if I was scared to death of these demons—of the enemy—that meant I had to believe the enemy was real. And if I believed he was real, why wouldn’t I believe God is real, too? The reason I was so vulnerable to the enemy was because of my fear. The enemy feeds on fear. I was like the lone sheep that strayed from the flock, forcing the shepherd to come find me. The enemy will go after you if you are alone and afraid. And I was alone, and I was deathly afraid . . . until I was saved.
Until God found me, and I found God.
Choosing that relationship with God is what salvation is all about. Salvation isn’t some Get Out of Jail Free card that allows you to do anything you want and gives you a clean slate. The sins you commit on Earth will always have consequences. I still grieve for the child I lost when I was younger, and my heart still breaks whenever I think of all the bad decisions I made. My human form will always bear the scars of these sins, but because I chose God over everything else, God has cleansed my spirit. God has given me salvation. God has bathed me in His love.
Which is not to say that salvation is just reserving your spot in heaven. Salvation is something that exists here on Earth. God has a purpose for us here, today, right now. He wants us to live our lives in the kind of fullness and goodness that glorifies Him. But we can’t do that if we are plagued by secrets and shame. The walls of our salvation start to crumble and collapse, allowing the enemy to get in. And so we must make our walls Salvation, and our gates Praise. We must restore these walls, brick by brick, so that we can live in the fullness and glory of God.
THE KEY, FOR me, was obedience. It took me a while to get there, but today when I hear God, I obey Him. I remember very clearly hearing God tell me that I would be writing this book. It was clear as day: I am sending someone to help you tell your story. And that’s just what happened. Believe me, the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do was lay bare my life in these pages. It was painful to be so transparent, and I struggled with it mightily.
But that is what God wanted me to do, and so that is what I do. I go out and tell my story, and I share the message God sent me back to share. And what is that message? It is many things, but here is one way I would put it:
God is real, and we are all worthy of His love and salvation because He finds us worthy.
That may sound simple, but for me it changed everything. It was the answer I had spent so much time trying to find. And now that I have it, the fondest wish I have in my heart is for everyone—everyone—to have it, too. I want everyone to be there with me, in the bathing glow of God’s love—even my worst enemy and the biggest sinners. It hurts me to think of anyone experiencing the opposite of what I experienced with God. No one should have to live in that horrible darkness.
And in the same way God forgave my sins, I no longer harbor anger or resentment toward anyone who has hurt me in my life. I love them deeply, and I hold them all close in my heart—my beautiful mother, who made mistakes but who never abandoned me, never stopped fighting for me; my father, who searched for love and acceptance just like I did, and who did the best he could to be my dad; my stepfather, who battled demons his whole life but who found ways to show a little girl love when he could; the people who abused me; the men who mistreated me; anyone I ever held a grudge against.
But most important, I have forgiven myself.
We are, all of us, God’s perfect creations, and we are so worthy of His love.
WHAT HAPPENS NOW?
What comes next for me, now that I have died and gone to heaven and come back and shared God’s message? What is the next stop on this amazing journey I’m on? I simply don’t know—none of us knows what the future holds. But the beautiful part is, we don’t need to. “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord in Jeremiah 29:11, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
These days I am grateful to God for so many things, but right up there at the top is my family. They give me such joy and happiness every day. Even Grandma Ernie, who I miss so much. I still think about hiding under her muumuu and walking around with her as she strolled through her lovely garden on these beautiful stepping-stones. I have those stones now, right in the front of my house. And every time I step on them, I miss my grandma. But I also know she’s still with me, here in my heart.
I talk with my dad on the phone all the time, and we get along pretty well these days. I can talk to him about a lot of things I can’t talk to my mom about, because she’s likely to get all emotional, while my dad, who was never great at showing his emotions, always keeps an even keel. We’re finding it easier and easier to be friends. The other day, I looked at Micah in his little glasses, and he looked so cute I scooped him up and gave him a big hug. As I hugged him I was struck by how much he looked like my dad in photos when he was that age. It made me wonder if my dad ever got scooped up and hugged like that when he was a kid. I took a picture and e-mailed it to my dad and told him I loved him. It was the closest thing to a hug I could give him.
I realize now he was a better father to me than I ever gave him credit for. And I know he loves me dearly. Those two years I spent with him in Illinois, he says now, were the two best years of his life.
And my mom . . . well, I just love my mom. Like I said, she’s the only one who’s been there for me my entire life, even when we fought like cats and dogs. I’ve never forgotten all her small acts of love and kindness, and I’ve even incorporated a couple of them—like the little notes on the napkins in my kids’ lunchboxes—into my life. I learned a lot from my mother, and I still do.
The twins, thank God, are doing great. You watch them run around the living room chasing bubbles, and you’d never know they weighed less than a bag of sugar when they were born. I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to see them with their father, who loves them like crazy. And what can I say about Virgil, the kindest and most loving man I’ve ever known? The way he supports me is so fierce and unending. God is my rock, that’s for sure, but Virgil is my rock, too.
My son JP is growing up into a remarkable man. He is so loving and kind to his little brother and sisters, and his heart is always there for others who need it. He’s a junior in high school now, and he plays the trumpet in the school band. He’s also getting pretty good on the violin in his spare time. He doesn’t remember much about the motorcycle accident, though he still has some pain in his knee on humid days and he can’t hear at all out of his right ear. He constantly has to tell his friends, “Come around on my other side so I can hear you.” There are days when he still feels angry, but he’s worked so hard on being the best person he can be. His dream was to enlist in the military, but because of his hearing, he won’t be able to do so. He’s okay with it, though, because he has such a strong and personal relationship with God. “I see it as God redirecting my life so I can do what He wants me to do,” he says. “I’m basically going with the flow. I’m throwing my lot in with God.” Now his dream is to go to college and become a police officer, and I don’t doubt he’ll be a great one.
My beautiful daughter Sabyre, who’s now a high school freshman, is really into music, too. She dreams of traveling to Nashville someday, and she loves Ed Sheeran and T
aylor Swift and the band Jesus Culture. She hopes to record her own demo and maybe have a career as a singer. Let me tell you, she has a great voice, so I’m betting on her. She was even invited to join the praise and worship team at our church, which is a huge honor and accomplishment. I am so proud of her! Sabyre hasn’t had much of a relationship with her biological father even though, God bless her, she’s tried. Not too long ago she wrote a long heartfelt letter and sent it to her dad, who is now in prison, in the hopes they could at least talk once in a while. But he never wrote back. It broke my heart to see Sabyre checking the mailbox every day. But, like I said, kids are pretty resilient. Sabyre is determined to send her father a new letter every week, until he finally writes back.
And it will be in those letters that she fights for a father she cannot remember and ministers about a God he does not know. Like JP, Sabyre has a very strong relationship with God. Last summer she went away to a Christian youth camp, and the experience really affected her—so much so that Sabyre came to me and said, “Mom, I want to be baptized.”
And so, on a very warm August day, we all drove out to Lake Altus, where everyone goes to swim and fish and lie on the beach. Sabyre asked Amber, who is like a big sister to her, to do the honors.
“Do you have a license to baptize me?” Sabyre joked with her.
“Oh, please,” Amber said. Then she ran to her pastor and asked if she did indeed need a license to baptize someone. Turns out her love and passion for God was all the license required.
While JP watched the twins on shore, Sabyre, Virgil, Amber, and Brandon walked waist-deep into the water. I went in about knee deep so I could take pictures. Mind you, we were all still in our regular clothes, so we got a few funny looks from the other beachgoers. But, hey, I’ve learned that feeling embarrassed is a small price to pay to glorify God.
Amber got into the water carrying her grandfather’s beat-up old blue King James Bible open to Colossians 2:13–14. As Brandon held Sabyre, Amber read from the Bible: “And you, being dead in your sins and the uncircumcision of your flesh, hath he quickened together with him, having forgiven you all trespasses; Blotting out the handwriting of ordinances that was against us, which was contrary to us, and took it out of the way, nailing it to his cross.”
Then Brandon leaned Sabyre backward and dunked her in the water. Poor Sabyre hates fish for some reason, and she was terrified she’d feel some scaly thing brush up against her. She even joked she was bringing fish food so she could scatter it far away from where she was, but the fish stayed away. Sabyre came up from the cold water and Amber told her, “Go forward and live a new life of love and mercy, a life that glorifies God.”
Afterwards, it was too hot to stick around the lake for long, so we drove back home and had a Happy Baptism ice cream cake for Sabyre. The twins danced around like they always do, and everyone was happy and cheerful and feeling blessed. It was one of the best days of my life. I sat on my sofa, surrounded by my family, and I thought, Thank you, God.
Before all this happened I didn’t know if God existed, and now I know—with more certainty than I know anything—that God is real.
Before all this I thought I wasn’t worthy of His love and salvation, and now I know that I am.
Before all this I wondered what it was like to be in the presence of God, and now I know that it is glorious.
And that is something all of us can know.
You don’t have to die and go to heaven. All you have to do to be in God’s presence is choose Him.
All you have to do is believe.
It was only after I died and went to heaven that my mom dug through some of her old family albums and found this photo of me from when I was three years old. I’m wearing the same outfit I saw myself wearing in heaven.
“No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.
For I am convinced that neither death nor life,
nor angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future,
nor any powers, neither height nor depth,
nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us
from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
Romans 8:37–39
Crystal McVea
I’D LIKE TO THANK THE FOLLOWING PEOPLE, WITHOUT whom my story would not have been told.
Thank you to my husband, Virgil. Words can never express my love for you. You are the kindest, most honorable and loving man I’ve ever known. As our song says, “God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you.” Thank you for being my best friend and the love of my life.
To my beautiful children, JP, Sabyre, Willow, and Micah—you four are the source of my greatest joy, love, and pride. Thank you for a lifetime of laughter and love.
To my parents—I love you both more than I’ve probably ever been able to convey. Thank you for loving me as I grew up and not killing me during my teenage years. I have a new appreciation for you both now that I am a parent. I wouldn’t have chosen differently even if I could have.
To my brother, Jayson—you were my partner in crime and grew to be one of my dearest friends. Your constant encouragement and humor have kept me going through my life. You helped me to always laugh instead of cry. And for the record, you were totally worth my having to give away my dog. Melissa, thank you for loving my brother and completing his life. I love having you as my sister!
Kara Benton, you always believed in me and my story. Thank you for always cheering me on and just letting me be me!
Amber Taylor, you make me laugh like none other, and your faith and fire in God ignites me (and you, too, Brandon).
Patricia and Shearl, you inspire me so much; thank you for sharing your lives in this book.
Laura Schroff, thank you for being a ripple maker. Without you, my story would never have been told. What an invisible thread God weaved for you and me!
To all my friends and family—thank you for being my cheering section, a shoulder to cry on, and a source of powerful prayer warriors. Your love and encouragement mean more to me that you can ever know.
To the team at Howard Books, especially my wonderful editor, Jessica Wong, and Jonathan Merkh. Thank you so much for making the telling of my story possible. God placed an amazing team around me.
To Nena and Jan at Dupree-Miller—thank you for being the most amazing agents ever.
Last, but certainly not least, thank you, Alex Tresniowski. God promised me He was sending someone to tell my story, and you were well worth the wait. You have not only become my friend; you’ve become a part of my family forever.
Alex Tresniowski
FIRST, A GIANT THANK-YOU TO CRYSTAL MCVEA FOR bringing me along on her amazing journey. I learned so much about courage and faith from you, and I feel so blessed to call you my friend. We’ll be buddies forever. Thanks also to Virgil and your great kids, JP, Sabyre, Micah, and Willow for making me feel like a part of your beautiful family.
Thank you to my dear friend Laura Schroff, who changed my life and made this book possible. You’re the most generous person I know. Thanks, everyone at Howard Books, especially my fellow introvert Jessica—you’re brilliant. Thank you, Nena Madonia and Jan Miller—you’re the best. Thanks to my golf buddy Mark Apovian, and thanks to J, for Life of Pi. Thanks to Fran, Rich, Zachary, Emily, Tam, Howie, Nick, Susan, and Humboldt for being the best family a guy could have. Thanks to Manley, Guy, LiLi, Nino, She She, and Ders for being my heart. Thanks to Amy, Neil, Siena, Karen, Greg, Ollie, Cutler, Jen, Kate, Angie, and Lindsay for making me feel so lucky.
And thank you, Lorraine Stundis, for everything.
This is my dad, Brad, and my mom, Connie, in 1975, the year they got married.
My mom and me on Christmas Day 1979. I was three years old and ready to open more presents.
That’s me in my tomboy phase when I was three. My mom tried to get me to wear dresses, without much luck.
I was three when my stepdad took me fishing and I caught my firs
t fish! He wasn’t exactly thrilled that I caught more than he did.
This was the day I got all dressed up for a playdate that never happened. At least I had fun blowing dandelions.
It was always a great day when Grandma Ernie and Paw Paw came for a visit. Here they are with me and my brother, Jayson, in 1982.
The first day of school for Jayson (kindergarten) and me (fifth grade) in 1987. We got new backpacks and lunchboxes every year.
Me and three-month-old Jayson in our backyard in 1982. Look at that mischievous little grin!
My dad in his Corvette dropping me off after one of our visits. I loved my time with him; he was the coolest guy I knew.
Sweet Sixteen: here I am at a friend’s house in 1993, one of my wild teenage years.
Dinner at my aunt’s house: (from left) Jayson, my mom, Uncle Al, Aunt Bridget, Maude Marie (a family friend), and me.
This is the moment I met my son JP right after he was born in 1995. It was love at first sight.
My son JP at eighteen months in these silly fake ears he loved wearing. What a little rascal he was.
In between my two jobs I’d rush home to be with my daughter Sabyre (she’s six months old here).
Me with my daughter Sabyre and JP in 2001, when we were a happy family of three.
Here’s JP with the firemen who saved his life after his accident in 2002. We brought them a framed photo of JP to thank them, and they gave him a firehouse tour.
Waking Up in Heaven: A True Story of Brokenness, Heaven, and Life Again Page 22
