— Resurrectee E. Hart, Formerly Deceased
“I had just crested the hill by Sycamore Park when it happened. No warning, no pain—just a sharp crack behind my eyes and then silence. I was clinically dead for twelve minutes. Paramedics worked on me. They gave up. My wife signed the release. The hospital wheeled me to the freezer.
But I wasn’t there.
The Church called my wife three days later. They told her there had been a retrieval. That my body had been taken—not buried, not cremated. Retrieved. I don’t remember the voyage. But I remember waking up. Clean. Rebuilt. Better.
The incisions were seamless. There were adjustments—neurological and genetic. I can see better now. I don’t need my asthma meds. I sleep four hours a night and wake up ready. I've never felt better.
They told us this was Resurrection Type VII. My wife joined that night. My sons followed. We attend every community gathering together. Our local Chapter just opened a second prayer site.
We’re not a grieving family anymore. We’re a unit. We’re aligned.
I don’t know what happened to my old self in those dark minutes. But I know this: I died. The Church brought me back. And now we live differently.