Anastasiia Volovodyk

This is my Testimony of how God brought me back to life.

Hi, my name is Anastasiia Volovodyk. I was born in Ukraine, and my family and I moved to the USA when I was 13 years old. Now, I am 19, and by the grace of God, I am still living and breathing.

I would like to share my testimony with you all of how I had an out-of-body experience in my life. I was dead and Jesus brought me back to life. This happened in May 2007, 17 years ago, when I was only two years old.

One day, I entered the kitchen, where we had a gas stove. An electronic lighter was attached to it, which had 260 volts of current and was usually used to light the stove. And as a child, I was curious to know what it was, so when I went into the kitchen and there was no one around, I took that lighter with my left hand. The button automatically pressed and at the same moment, 260 volts of current went into my left hand. Then the current passed through my heart and came out through my left leg. 260 volts of current burned through my veins and then stopped my heart.

After that, I fell to the floor, dead. My head leaned against the iron pipe that heated the house, with the help of which, a circular current circuit occurred in my body. My body turned gray, and the tips of the fingers on my left hand were burned to the bone.

My mom was in the bathroom at that time, which was next to the kitchen. As a child, I was noisy, and my mother, hearing that the house had become quiet, went into the kitchen to see where I was. She saw my motionless body on the floor with the lighter in my hand, realizing what had happened.

My dad immediately came running when my mom screamed, taking the lighter out of my hand. When he took it, he was also electrocuted. He checked my pulse, but there was no pulse anymore, and my body began to feel cool. My dad lifted my body from the floor and put me in my mom’s arms, then ran to his sister, who lived next door.

They all began to pray together, asking God to bring me back to life. They prayed for about two hours, so hard that it seemed as if there was no roof over their heads. During the time they prayed, my soul left my body, and I watched everything that was happening from above. I was in Jesus’s arms.

He had very light/white shoulder-length hair, and his clothes were so white. There is no color so white on earth; the clothes on him shimmered like fire and lightning. His face shone and he was very handsome. Jesus had a kind smile on his face and the most beautiful eyes, full of unconditional love and understanding. He had a strong energy around him, and it felt so amazing to be next to him.

Because I was a child, I understood who he was. The soul knows its creator, and I called him by his name, “Jesus.” I turned to Jesus and asked him to let me go to my mom, and he answered, “Go.” While my family was praying, I began to make sounds, and when I fully came to my senses, my parents took me to the hospital.

When they got to the hospital, they met a cleaning lady who had the gift of prophecy. My parents told her what happened to me, then asked her for advice. She replied not to tell the doctors that I was dead because in such situations, they usually give an injection to normalize the beating of the heart. But, since it was unknown what condition my heart was in, they should tell the doctors that I was unconscious.

Once there, I was taken for a cardiogram. They did a cardiogram twice but could not understand anything. Then they sent me to a ward and said that tomorrow they would call the Honored Professor of the USSR. She was a woman who had been retired for a long time. The next day when she came, she looked at the cardiogram and listened to the beating of my heart, then said that she’d never seen this type of situation before.

She said that it was not possible that I was unconscious, because the cardiogram showed that the heart stopped. She didn’t understand how it was beating right then. Not only was it beating, but it was beating well and my pulse was normal. Then she prescribed me some pills.

Next began the treatment of my hand. The doctors insisted on cutting off three fingers on my left hand since the two phalanges on the fingers were only bones protruding from the third phalanx, and there was no flesh on them. My parents didn’t agree to this, and my father went to our prophet. When he arrived, the prophet opened the door and said, ”Don’t tell me your need because God has already revealed to me that you will come. He told me about your concerns, and God said this to you: “They want to cut off your child’s fingers, but don’t let them. I will give the fingers to her.”

Because of this, my parents told the doctors that they wouldn’t let them cut off my fingers. They told them that God said that he would give me fingers. The doctors asked how God could give me fingers when there were no veins, no meat, and no skin there, but my parents stood their ground, saying that if God raised Lazarus from the dead, then he also could give me fingers. Then, the doctors asked my parents to sign a paper saying that they would not be responsible for anything if something happened to me.

The doctors all had a consultation and decided to sew the damaged fingers to my back. The next day, when they started, they were supposed to rewash my fingers so the infection would not be able to get into my wounds. They were supposed to do this every day for about a month, but on the second day after they began sewing my fingers, the doctors went on vacation. Only the head nurse remained, who, for some reason, did not continue to wash my fingers.

A week later, when the doctors returned from vacation, they returned to see that my hand was covered with pus. After washing it thoroughly, the doctors ran a test and discovered sepsis blood poisoning. They didn’t tell my parents and continued to run tests for the next month and a half, trying different treatments to fix it. Nothing worked, and my skin turned light green, and that was when my mom began to suspect that something was wrong.

She went to the doctors, saying that according to them, my hand would be fixed in a month. That time had already passed, and the doctors finally confessed and told her that they weren’t worried about my fingers anymore; they were now fighting for my life. There was very high sepsis in my blood, and they’d tried all the treatments they had, but nothing was working. They told her that there was one last treatment left, but it was meant for adults. They were nervous to try it on a two-year-old.

My parents were very frustrated. They asked the doctors why they didn’t tell them and said that they wanted to call the prostrationers to come to the hospital to pray over me. They said the Bible declared that would be my best chance of being healed. But the head of the hospital department told them no, and that they’d have to bring me to them. But first, they needed to sign a paper saying that if anything happened to me, the hospital would not be held responsible.

My parents signed the paper and took me home, after telling the prostrationers that they would bring me for a prayer. When they did, the prostrationers anointed me with oil and prayed over me, as it says in the Bible. After praying, they saw a change in me - my skin color became normal and my cheeks became rosy. After that, I was taken back to the hospital.

When I went back, the nurses came to do a blood test. They wanted to make sure that I had healed. They came to take my blood a second time, and my mom asked them why. “Why are you doing the test again?” she said. “Can’t you see that God has healed her?” They said they wanted to check to see what kind of sepsis remained in my blood, but my parents told them they didn’t need the results. They knew that God had healed me. But they told them to go ahead and take my blood a second time so they could see for themselves that God had healed me.

Half an hour later, the lab called and said that the blood tests showed that my blood was sterile. There was no sepsis anymore. The head of the hospital department said that couldn’t be true, because just yesterday, the sepsis was extremely high. How could it not be there anymore? She told the lab to double-check, and then check again a third time. She didn’t see how it was possible that I could go from dying to perfectly fine.

So the lab told her that although they’d tested multiple times and the blood was sterile, they’d put it on some mushrooms to check further. In the end, the result was good. During the sepsis, they gave me a lot of blood transfusions and even took a DNA test to check if my DNA had changed. Time passed and doctors began preparing me for surgery to unsew my hand from my back. Because they did so many tests and gave me so many injections, my veins were all punctured. There was no way to find them.

As they were getting ready to give me anesthesia, they could only find one vein. It was on my leg, near my ankle. An intern came to do the injection, but because she was an intern, she didn’t have enough experience and pierced the vein incorrectly. Since there were no veins left, there was only one option left. It was an artery on part of my neck, which was dangerous because the artery led directly to the heart. If I moved, I could die.

Luckily, the anesthesiologist who did the anesthesia injection for me through that dangerous artery did it correctly. Later my parents found out that he was a drug addict, and his hands were shaking badly while he was doing the injection, but he got it right because everything was under God’s control.

When they took me for surgery, my mom was praying in the hospital near the window. She saw a vision - it was me at 15–16 years old, and I was sitting in the park on a bench. My left hand was hanging from the bench, and all the fingers were attached. After the operation, the head of the hospital department came up to my mom and told her that they had unsewn my hand from my back, and there were fingers on my hand. She didn’t understand how it was possible.

My mom just turned to her and said that she told her God would give me fingers. The lady asked her how that could be because she was a believer as well, but Orthodox. My mom simply replied, “If you are a believer, why don’t you believe in the Living God? He is omnipotent!”

When I was in a room after the operation, Jesus appeared to me again. He sat down by my side and held my hand, smiling and looking into my eyes with unconditional love.

Three months later, I was discharged from the hospital. One Sunday, as we were sitting on the 2nd-floor balcony in our church, I saw Jesus again. He was in the front, where the choir, prostrationers, and preachers were sitting. He was above them, floating in the air. I cried out and pointed my finger at the place where Jesus was, saying, “Mom, Mom, there’s the white kind man who was with me all the time in the hospital!” Everyone sitting nearby was listening, curious about who I had seen there. That was the last time I saw Jesus.

Today, I want to remind you that nothing is impossible for our true God. He is the living God and he is always here on Earth with us, even if we can’t see him with our mortal eyes. The moment will come when we will see Jesus again.

May God bless all of you and your families. “Oh, give thanks to the Lord, for He is good. His mercies endure forever.” Psalm 107:1 Amen.