https://muhammad-ali-ben-marcus.blogspot.com/2009/10/dawkins-has-taken-bait.html
Life, History, Science and Space with Eric Dubay [HIS VIDEOS WERE BANNED ON YOUTUBE]
Life, History, Science and Space with Eric Dubay
https://odysee.com/@EricDubay:c/LifeHistoryScienceandSpacewithEricDubay:f
THE ALIEN BEGINNING AND END OF HUMANKIND
Friday, 23 March 2012
http://muhammad-ali-ben-marcus.blogspot.co.uk/2012/03/bafs-alien-beginning-and-end-of.html
*Extract of chapter 1 of my unpublished book “THE ALIEN BEGINNING AND END OF HUMANKIND” posted by Daryl Bradford Smith Daryl's Encyclopedia (updated 4 May 2013), and re-posted on my Blog in 2014.
http://muhammad-ali-ben-marcus.blogspot.com/2014/04/the-alien-beginning-and-end-of-humankind.html
“On Saturday 26th June 2004, the author was sent an Email from one of his correspondents, Christian Cotten (chriscotten@wanadoo.fr) entitled “A Story of Angels and of a Father” in its French translation: “UNE HISTOIRE D'ANGES ET DE PÈRE” by Mr. Lloyd Glenn. Is it a fabrication or a true story? It is more likely a fabrication as some Sects are known for inventing such stories to promote their sectarian religions. But, does it really matter? Can Richard Dawkins and others like him ever prove that this is simply a delusion? But, a similar event occurred in my own personal life, and I have no evidence to prove that it is true, and have only my salvaged autobiographical notes. In this XXst Century, many famous “non believers” and researchers claim they have had similar experiences, including that of visits, encounters, contacts from outer space or from the other dimensions. Are our very young not fed trash on a daily basis by school (Harry Potter, etc.), television, cinema, newspaper and magazine?
“Below is a true story, but it was “sanitized” for mainline Christian churches. It was originally written in 1994 by Mr. Lloyd Glenn, a Mormon, living in California, about the true accident that happened to his son in 1993.”
The Birdies
“On July 22nd I was en route to
Washington, DC for a business trip. It was all so very ordinary, until we
landed in Denver for a plane change. As I collected my belongings from the
overhead bin, an announcement was made for Mr. Lloyd Glenn to see the United
Customer Service Representative immediately. I thought nothing of it until I
reached the door to leave the plane, and I heard a gentleman asking every male
if they were Mr. Glenn. At this point I knew something was wrong and my heart
sunk. When I got off the plane a solemn faced young man came toward me and
said, "Mr. Glenn, there is an emergency at your home. I do not know what
the emergency is, or who is involved, but I will take you to the phone so you
can call the hospital."
My heart was now pounding, but the will to be calm took over. Woodenly, I
followed this stranger to the distant telephone where I called the number he
gave me for the Mission Hospital. My call was put through to the trauma center
where I learned that my three year old son had been trapped underneath the
automatic garage door for several minutes, and that when my wife had found him
he was dead. CPR had been performed by a neighbor, who is a doctor, and the
paramedics had continued the treatment as Brian was transported to the
hospital. By the time of my call, Brian was revived and they believed he would
live, but they did not know how much damage had been done to his brain, nor to
his heart.
They explained that the door had completely closed on his little sternum right
over his heart. He had been severely crushed. After speaking with the medical
staff, my wife sounded worried but not hysterical, and I took comfort in her
calmness.
The return flight seemed to last forever, but finally I arrived at the hospital
six hours after the garage door had come down. When I walked into the intensive
care unit, nothing could have prepared me to see my little son lying so still
on a great big bed with tubes and monitors everywhere. He was on a respirator.
I glanced at my wife who stood and tried to give me a reassuring smile. It all
seemed like a terrible dream. Doctor's filled me in with the details and gave a
guarded prognosis. Brian was going to live, and the preliminary tests indicated
that his heart was OK, two miracles in and of themselves. But only time would
tell if his brain received any damage.
Throughout the seemingly endless hours, my wife was calm. She felt that Brian
would eventually be all right. I hung on to her words and faith like a
lifeline. All that night and the next day Brian remained unconscious. It seemed
like forever since I had left for my business trip the day before.
Finally at two o'clock that afternoon, our son regained consciousness and sat
up uttering the most beautiful words I have ever heard spoken. He said,
"Daddy hold me" and he reached for me with his little arms. By the
next day he was pronounced as having no neurological or physical deficits, and
the story of his miraculous survival spread throughout the hospital. You cannot
imagine our gratitude and joy. As we took Brian home, we felt a unique
reverence for the life and love of our Heavenly Father that comes to those who
brush death so closely.
In the days that followed there was a special spirit about our home. Our two
older children were much closer to their little brother. My wife and I were
much closer to each other, and all of us were very close as a whole family.
Life took on a less stressful pace. Perspective seemed to be more focused, and
balance much easier to gain and maintain. We felt deeply blessed. Our gratitude
was truly profound.
The story is not over
Almost a month later to the day of the accident, Brian awoke from his afternoon
nap and said, "Sit down mommy. I have something to tell you." At this
time in his life, Brian usually spoke in small phrases, so to say a large
sentence surprised my wife. She sat down with him on his bed, and he began his
sacred and remarkable story.
"Do you remember when I got stuck under the garage door? Well, it was so
heavy and it hurt really bad. I called to you, but you couldn't hear me. I
started to cry, but then it hurt too bad. And then the 'birdies' came."
"The birdies?" my wife asked puzzled. "Yes," he replied.
"The birdies made a whooshing sound and flew into the garage. They took
care of me." "They did?" "Yes," he said. "One of
the birdies came and got you. She came to tell you I got stuck under the
door." A sweet reverent feeling filled the room. The spirit was so strong
and yet lighter than air. My wife realized that a three year old had no concept
of death and spirits, so he was referring to the beings who came to him from
beyond as "birdies" because they were up in the air like birds that
fly.
"What did the birdies look like?" she asked. Brian answered,
"They were so beautiful. They were dressed in white, all white. Some of
them had green and white. But some of them had on just white." "Did
they say anything?" "Yes," he answered. "They told me the
baby would be all right." "The baby?" my wife asked confused.
Brian answered. "The baby laying on the garage floor." He went on,
"You came out and opened the garage door and ran to the baby. You told the
baby to stay and not leave." My wife nearly collapsed upon hearing this,
for she had indeed gone and knelt beside Brian's body and seeing his crushed
chest whispered, "Don't leave us Brian, please stay if you can." As
she listened to Brian telling her the words she had spoken, she realized that
the spirit had left his body and was looking down from above on this little
lifeless form.
"Then what happened?" she asked. "We went on a trip." He
said, "Far, far away." He grew agitated trying to say the things he
didn't seem to have the words for. My wife tried to calm and comfort him, and
let him know it would be okay. He struggled with wanting to tell something that
obviously was very important to him, but finding the words was difficult.
"We flew so fast up in the air. They're so pretty Mommy," he added.
"And there is lots and lots of birdies."
My wife was stunned. Into her mind the sweet comforting spirit enveloped her
more soundly, but with an urgency she had never before known. Brian went on to
tell her that the "birdies" had told him that he had to come back and
tell everyone about the "birdies." He said they brought him back to
the house and that a big fire truck, and an ambulance were there. A man was
bringing the baby out on a white bed and he tried to tell the man that the baby
would be okay, but the man couldn't hear him. He said the birdies told him he
had to go with the ambulance, but they would be near him. He said they were so
pretty and so peaceful, and he didn't want to come back.
Then the bright light came. He said that the light was so bright and so warm,
and he loved the bright light so much. Someone was in the bright light and put
their arms around him, and told him, "I love you but you have to go back.
You have to play baseball, and tell everyone about the birdies." Then the
person in the bright light kissed him and waved bye-bye. Then woosh, the big
sound came and they went into the clouds. The story went on for an hour. He
taught us that "birdies" were always with us, but we don't see them
because we look with our eyes and we don't hear them because we listen with our
ears. But they are always there, you can only see them in here (he put his hand
over his heart). They whisper the things to help us to do what is right because
they love us so much.
Brian continued, stating, "I have a plan, Mommy. You have a plan. Daddy
has a plan. Everyone has a plan. We must all live our plan and keep our
promises. The birdies help us to do that cause they love us so much." In
the weeks that followed, he often came to us and told all, or part of it, again
and again. Always the story remained the same. The details were never changed
or out of order. A few times he added further bits of information and clarified
the message he had already delivered. It never ceased to amaze us how he could
tell such detail and speak beyond his ability when he talked about his birdies.
Everywhere he went, he told strangers about the "birdies."
Surprisingly, no one ever looked at him strangely when he did this. Rather,
they always got a softened look on their face and smiled.
Needless to say, we have not been the same ever since that day, and I pray we
never will be."
END OF TRUE (OR MADE-UP) STORY
To my very dear and faithful friend Adalberto Erazo Jr.
And to all seekers of knowledge
From Daryl's Encyclopedia (updated 4 May 2013)
(Re-posted in 2014)
[PHOTO – confidential and not provided before or posted on my Blog because of this world of beasts and evil doers!]
(Paris 1986)
My treacherous wife had me sell our house in the country-side, and forced me to buy an office flat and move to Paris, and get involved with an office flat I had to refurbish and transform into a residential. During the refurbishment, I fell off the roof after being electrocuted while repairing some cables, a 380 degrees industrial cable, and my three year-old boy was nearly crushed to death under an office partition glass panel the builders had moved into another room, and weighing over 100kg, but he was ‘miraculously’ saved from a certain death by a low wall radiator he was trapped underneath. I did not make up that story and it was real, but undeserving creatures from my own family did not give a damn about this! Reading the Birdie story, true or false, makes me burst into tears as I have seen my son suffer so much under the hands of evil creatures! But, only pure hearts full of compassion can feel the pain!
https://muhammad-ali-ben-marcus.blogspot.com/2009/10/dawkins-has-taken-bait.html
The History of Flat Earth by Eric Dubay
