I was chained to the wall of a mine in hell, watching my skin melt away when they finally released me. I ran toward Jesus and saw him crying. He wasn't shedding a few little tears. He was weeping in a way I had never imagined he could. And then he told me why those people were there and what would have happened to me if I had not belonged to him.
Today we are going to hear the account of Nardia, a 70-year-old woman who had been a Christian since childhood. One night she went to sleep and was taken in the spirit to the edge of hell. This is a story said to be based on real events. Only her name has been changed.
What did she see inside that cave that made her run toward Jesus like a frightened little girl? There is something we need to pay attention to from the very beginning. Nadia was not a woman who had turned away from God. She was a believer yet she was taken to that place.
Why would the Lord show something like this to someone who already belonged to him? And there is something else. While her skin was melting, something happened that she could not understand what was protecting her in the middle of the fire.
If you also believe that hell is real and that Christ is the only way out, write Jehovah in the comments. Every comment tells me that this warning has reached someone who needs to hear it.
Now, let us listen to Nardia in her own words.
I am 70 years old. I gave my life to the Lord when I was 11. I remember that time well because I was blessed with a mother who took me to church. Many people never had that opportunity. I did. I grew up hearing about Jesus, singing hymns, and sitting on those wooden pews every Sunday. And let me tell you something. Despite all those years in church, absolutely nothing prepared me for what I experienced that night.
The first thing everyone needs to understand is this. It was not a vision and it was not a dream. I know what it feels like to dream and this was nothing like that. I was truly there. It was an ordinary night. Nothing unusual had happened that day. I did what I always did. I put on my night clothes and went to bed as I would on any other night. I was not sick and I had not been asking God for anything unusual in my prayers.
Suddenly I was no longer in my bed. I cannot explain how I moved from one place to the other. All I can say is that the Lord simply took me there. He brought me to the edge of hell.
The first thing I noticed was that I was inside a cave. It was dark and enclosed. The walls were made of stone and the air felt heavy as though it had been trapped there for a very long time. I looked around completely confused. Where was I? Why was I there? There was nobody I could ask.
Then came the feeling. Look, I have experienced loss. I have buried people I loved. I know the pain in your chest when someone dear to you passes away. But what I felt inside that cave was something entirely different. It was like losing a loved one, but a thousand times worse. A thousand times. It was a completely broken heart, broken in a way that could never be repaired.
It was not ordinary sadness. Even when sadness hurts us here on earth, there is always a little corner of hope. We tell ourselves, "Tomorrow will be better" or "God is with me through this." But there was none of it there, nothing. It was an emptiness that squeezed you from the inside and refused to let go.
I am telling you the truth. If that feeling had been the only thing I had to endure in that place, it would already have been enough torment. There would have been no need for fire or anything else. That pain alone was a punishment. It was unbearable. I thought I would not be able to endure another minute, and I still did not understand where the feeling was coming from. I only knew that it was inside me and would not go away.
Then came the smell. It smelled like rotting flesh, like something that had spoiled and been left sealed away for a long time. Mixed with that was another smell, burning sulfur. It was strong and sharp, penetrating my nose and reaching all the way down into my stomach. It was a horrible stench, and I still remember it. There are days when I think about that cave, and it feels as though the smell returns. You do not forget something like that.
I stood there with that pain in my chest and that awful smell surrounding me thinking, "Lord, what is this? What am I doing here? Because I belong to you. I had walked with you since I was a little girl. I do not understand why you have brought me to a place like this."
And I will be honest with you, I was afraid, very afraid. I did not know whether I was alone. I did not know whether someone was watching me from the darkness. I did not know whether I would ever get out. What I understand now is that everything I felt in those first moments was only the beginning. The pain, the smell, the darkness, those things were merely the entrance.
I still did not know who else was inside that cave with me. And I still did not know why the Lord had brought me there.
Then suddenly, I saw a light. It appeared on one side of the cave. It was not like the light from a lamp. And it was not like sunlight. It was something entirely different. The instant I saw it, that horrible feeling disappeared. It vanished all at once. The broken heart, the emptiness squeezing me from the inside. It was gone.
Right there, I understood something I had never understood throughout all my years in church. The pain I had been feeling was the total absence of God. That was it. God simply is not present in that place. And when he is not there, nothing remains. No peace, no hope, no comfort, nothing.
I turned toward the back of the cave. And there he was. Jesus was standing there looking at me. I did not hesitate. I ran toward him like a frightened little girl. Just as a child runs to his father after hearing a frightening noise in the night, I ran to Jesus. Nothing else mattered.
He bent down and embraced me. The moment I touched him, I felt a love I had never experienced in my entire life. There is no love like that on earth. Not a mother's love, not a husband's love, not even the love of your children. All those kinds of love are beautiful. But this was something else entirely. No love like that can come from any source other than God. It filled me from the top of my head to the soles of my feet.
He comforted me without saying a word. He simply looked at me and held me.
Then he did something I did not expect. He said nothing. He simply raised his hand and pointed toward a coal cart on the other side of the cave. He did not demand anything from me. He did not give me an order. He just pointed. But I knew he wanted me to look inside.
So I went over to it. I walked slowly. With every step, the smell grew stronger. When I reached the cart and looked inside, I initially thought I was seeing human skeletons, piles of bones, but then I realized they were moving. They were twisting and writhing, and a little flesh still clung to their bones.
The smell was terrible. That was where the entire stench was coming from.
And I need to explain something to you here. While I was in that place, I had a kind of knowledge that we do not have here on earth. I believe Jesus gave me that knowledge. I knew things without anyone telling me. I could hear each person's thoughts and I could feel what they were feeling. And what they felt was an overwhelming desire to get out of there.
They had been inside that cart for an incredibly long time. An incredibly long time. Some spoke in very weak voices, barely able to breathe. "Help me. Help me." Others said, "Kill me." They wanted to stop existing. Those at the very bottom, crushed beneath everyone else, were no longer even asking for anything. All they felt was despair. Pure despair.
I could not stand there and simply watch. I wanted to help them. So I reached into the cart to pull one of them out.
At that moment, Jesus spoke to me. He did not speak with his mouth. He spoke directly into my mind, spirit to spirit. He told me that those people had been given opportunity after opportunity again and again and again. They had heard about him. They had heard the gospel, but they had rejected it. Throughout their lives on earth, they had rejected him.
He told me that nothing more could be done for them. They were there for eternity.
I slowly withdrew my hand. There was nothing I could do. Nobody could do anything. I stood beside that cart listening to those weak voices, thinking about how many times those people might have encountered someone who spoke to them about Jesus. A neighbor, a family member, a preacher on the street, and they had said no. Every time they had said no.
I turned around, still trembling, and looked down. I noticed something on the floor that I had not seen before. What I did not know was that within a second everything was about to change and I was going to be the one trapped inside that cave.
I looked down and saw some railway tracks. They were made of old rusty metal and disappeared into the darkness of the cave. That was when I finally understood where I was. It was not an ordinary cave. It was a coal mine, an old abandoned mine. That explained the cart. It explained the walls.
And then in less than a second, I was no longer standing freely. I was chained to the wall. I did not see anyone put the chains on me. I did not feel anyone grabbing me. One moment I was standing there and the next I was against the stone wall. My arms stretched out and fastened to it. My legs spread apart and chained as well. I could not move. I tried to pull my arms free, but nothing happened. The chains would not give way even a little.
Jesus was still at the entrance to the cave. I could see him from where I stood, but I was on the other side, pressed against the wall, unable to do anything.
Then I began to hear a noise. It came from the deepest part of the mine, from the opposite direction to where Jesus was standing. It was a horrible sound like chains striking against metal mixed with banging noises and growling. The growls were unlike anything I had ever heard from an animal or a human being. I immediately knew they were demons. Nobody told me. I knew it in the same way I had known so many other things in that place.
I also knew they were coming from far below, from a depth of about three kilometers, and that they were climbing upward. The noise grew louder and louder as they approached.
I was chained to the wall and could not even cover my ears. And let me tell you something. All my life whenever I thought about demons, I imagined the creatures we see in drawings—hideous beings with claws, horns, and tails. That was what I expected to see. But that was not what appeared when they finally came into view.
They looked like human bodies. They had the shape of people with arms, legs, and heads, but they were made entirely of fire. It was not that they were burning. They were fire. Their entire bodies were flames. There were two of them.
They ran past me, and as they passed, they threw fire at me. I lowered my eyes toward my chest. I watched my clothes burn, and then I saw my skin melting. It ran off my bones like wax dripping from a candle. I knew the same thing was happening to my face. Even though I could not see it, I knew that the skin was coming apart all over my body.
The demons continued past me. They ran down a narrow passage near where Jesus was standing.
Then, suddenly, my skin regenerated. Just like that, in an instant, my body returned to normal. I was whole again as though nothing had happened. But I barely had time to breathe. The noise began again. The chains clanked. The growling returned. The demons were coming back.
The same thing happened all over again. They ran past me, threw fire at me, and I watched my skin melt for the second time.
And here I need to tell you what I understood about those demons because I felt it very clearly while I was there. They had absolutely no mercy. They had no conscience. There was not even the slightest trace of love inside them. Nothing. All they wanted was to destroy me. That was their entire purpose. They hate God's creation. They hate us because we belong to him. And they want to destroy as many of us as they can.
Ever since I returned, I have thought a great deal about people involved in witchcraft and those who worship Satan. I believe many of them think Satan has reserved a special place for them down there. They think that because they served him on earth, he will treat them differently when they arrive. But that is not how it works. They will be tormented just like everyone else. Right now here on earth, they are being deceived into believing that nothing bad will happen to them. But those demons make no distinctions. They have no friends.
I remain chained to the wall. My skin restored, waiting to hear that terrible noise again.
And that was when I realized something strange. My skin had melted twice. I had watched it come away from my bones with my own eyes. Yet, I had not felt even the slightest pain. Why?
Then, suddenly, I was no longer chained to the wall. The chains were gone. My arms were free, and so were my legs. I looked at myself. My skin was completely healthy and intact. There was not a single mark on my body as though none of it had ever happened. But it had happened and I was absolutely terrified.
So I ran. I ran toward Jesus with all my strength just as I had the first time. I thought about nothing else. I only wanted to reach him before I heard that terrible noise again.
This time he was already waiting for me. He was leaning forward with his arms ready like a father who sees his child running toward him and bends down to catch him. He already knew I would come running to him like that. And he caught me in his arms.
Jesus is tall. I would estimate that he is about 1.85 m tall. I know because I compare his height to that of my late husband who was about the same height. I am only 1.60 m tall. So Jesus was considerably taller than me. I had to lift my face to look at him. He was strong, not like those men in gyms with exaggerated muscles, but genuinely strong. I could feel his strength when he embraced me. I felt completely safe in his arms.
And then I noticed something. He was crying. He was not merely sobbing quietly. And these were not just a few tears escaping his eyes. Jesus was weeping deeply. He was crying with his whole being. I did not know what to do. I had never imagined that I would see the Lord like that. We think of him on his throne surrounded by glory with everything under control. Yet there he was embracing me at the entrance to a mine in hell and weeping.
Then he took me by the shoulders, gently moved me back a little, looked into my eyes, and said, "If you did not belong to me, this would have happened to you again and again throughout all eternity." I stood there in silence, and eternity is a very, very long time. At that moment, I understood why I had not felt any pain. My skin had melted twice, but I had felt nothing. It was because of him. He had allowed me to experience the fear because I needed to understand what that place was like so I could tell others about it.
But he had not allowed me to suffer. He had protected me the entire time, even while I was chained in that place because I belonged to him. I have thought about that a great deal since returning. Those people in the cart had no one protecting them like that. What I experienced twice, they were experiencing without interruption, without rest forever. Then Jesus spoke to me again directly into my mind.
He told me, "Go back and tell people that this place is real and that they must not come here." That was what he asked me to do. Return and warn people. And that was why he was crying. He does not want anyone to go to hell. Nobody. Not a single person. Every one of us matters deeply to him. People send themselves there through the choices they make. He does not send them there. They choose. I am still amazed by how God can love us so deeply.
There are millions and millions of people in the world. Yet he loves each one of us as though we were his only child. As though nobody else existed. That love passed through my entire body from the top of my head to the soles of my feet. Many people ask me what Jesus looked like, so I will tell you. At first, I did not want to describe him because I thought nobody would believe me. His voice was calm and beautiful.
Just hearing it brought peace. His hair was brown, wavy, and reached his shoulders. His skin was olive colored, and he did not have a single wrinkle on his face, not even the little lines that appear when someone smiles or laughs. Nothing. His face was long, his nose was somewhat long, and his lips were full. He was very handsome, although not quite like the way he is portrayed in the paintings people have hanging in their grandmother's homes.
And his eyes, that was the hardest thing for me to describe. The first time I looked at him, his eyes were blue, the bluest eyes I had ever seen in my life. Then I looked at him again, and they were green. Later they changed to a hazel color, almost golden. I thought I was imagining things until years later I heard the testimony of another woman who said the same thing had happened to her. Jesus's eyes changed color as she looked at him.
That was when I thought, well, someone else saw it, too. And let me tell you something that few people know. That night in the mine was not the only time God took me out of my body. There was another occasion and that time he took me to find someone I loved with all my heart. My younger brother had the same name as my father. He was the youngest in our family and I loved him dearly. My father was an alcoholic.
He was an intelligent man and a cowboy and I loved him. But he was a very poor example for all of us including my brothers. He allowed my little brother to drink alcohol from a very young age. On the day my brother turned 18, some young men invited him to celebrate. I had warned him a thousand times not to get into a car with them. A thousand times, but he got in anyway. That day he lost his life in an accident.
I was devastated and there was something that would not leave me in peace. I knew my brother loved the Lord. I knew it. But when he died, he was living in sin. He had been drinking and I did not know where he was. So I prayed and fasted. I said to God, I need to know where my brother is. Please show me. That very night, God took me out of my body again. I was not in the heavenly city, and I was not standing before the throne.
I was in a meadow. It looked very much like the earth, but everything was perfect. Here on earth, we see dry leaves and scorched grass. There, nothing was dead. Nothing. There were no shadows because God's light surrounded me from every direction. There was a stream and the water was so clear that the fish seemed to be floating above it. Then I saw a bridge. My brother was walking across it toward me.
He looked beautiful and healthier than he had ever looked on earth. I wanted to run to him and embrace him, but I knew I could not. He was pure and I was not. That was how I felt. He approached me and said, "I have come to bring you a message from Jehovah God." I asked him what the message was. He told me, "Cleanse yourself in body and spirit." Then he added, "Sister, that is what you need to work on."
I told him that I would do it. He turned to leave and I called out to him. Wait, when will I see you again? He answered, "You will see me again." The account I was told was that my mother later asked some preachers what those words meant. They told her that it meant we would see one another again when Jesus returned. But I still had another question. So I asked God, "Why did you allow my brother to enter heaven if he died in sin?"
And he answered me because his father set a bad example for him. My brother never really had an opportunity. I understood from this that parents who lead their children astray, who give them beer and tell them, "A little bit won't hurt you," will have to answer to God. God entrusts children to us while we are here on earth, and we are responsible for how we guide them. When I returned from the mine, the first person I told everything to was my daughter.
She believed me. Others did not. They thought my story was too extraordinary to be true. But the people who know me understand that I am an honest person. They know I would not invent something like this. I have asked myself a thousand times why God chose me. I am a sinner. I struggle with sin. Sometimes I find it difficult to forgive people who have treated me badly. I said to him, "Lord, you could have chosen someone better, but you chose me."
And I am doing what he asked me to do, warning his people. The worst thing I could ever hear in my life would be Jesus saying to me at the judgment, "Depart from me. I never knew you." And that will happen to people who believe their good works are enough to save them. Your works cannot save you. You must become a child of God. It is simple. Repent. Invite him into your life. Read the Bible. Even if it is only one chapter a day.
I am 70 years old and I am still learning new things. Jesus is coming soon. I have never regretted following him and I do not know any Christian who has regretted it.
Hash reflection on Nardia's testimony. That brings us to the end of Nardia's testimony. Now let us examine what we have just heard. The first thing Nadia felt inside that cave was not the fire. It was emptiness. That emptiness disappeared when she saw the light, and she ran toward Jesus like a little child.
The account she shared brings to mind what Paul wrote to the Thessalonians about the punishment of being shut out from the presence of the Lord. According to this reflection, the most terrible thing about hell is not the fire. It is the absence of God. Now, why would God take a woman who already belonged to him to such a place? The answer lies in what he told her, go back and tell them. In the book of Ezekiel, God appoints a watchman to stand on the wall.
The watchman does not see danger merely to save himself. He sees it so that he can sound the alarm. As a former military man, I understand that principle. A sentry does not take up his post for his own safety alone. He takes up his position to protect others. And what protected Nardia in the middle of the fire was one statement. If you did not belong to me. is clear. There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.
Nardia did not emerge unharmed because she was a good person. She admitted that she was a sinner. She emerged unharmed because she belonged to someone and that someone was weeping. This does not contradict scripture. Jesus wept at the tomb of Lazarus and he wept over Jerusalem. Peter also writes that the Lord does not want anyone to perish. A God who weeps over those who are lost is not a weak God.
He is a God who respects the decisions people repeatedly make. When it comes to Nardia's brother, we must be especially careful in how we interpret this part of the account. His story is not permission to live in sin. Instead, it serves as a warning to parents. Jesus said that it would be better for someone to have a millstone hung around their neck than to cause one of these little ones to stumble.
God knows the heart and the life story of every person. Judgment belongs to him, not to us. Write in the comments what this testimony has awakened in you. The search for truth continues and reflection in the light of God's word remains our
