📍 My Name is Madison Taylor Brooks
🕊️ I'm 14 years old, and on October 17th I died for 12 minutes when our car flipped three times on Highway 29.

I was in the backseat scrolling through TikTok, barely paying attention to mom driving me to volleyball practice. My little brother Tyler was playing his Nintendo Switch next to me.

🌧️ The rain was coming down so hard that mom kept asking me to look up directions because she couldn't see the exit. I remember being annoyed because I was right in the middle of watching this dance trend video. I didn't look up.

Then it happened.

🚛 The semi-truck came out of nowhere. Mom screamed.

Tyler dropped his game. My phone flew out of my hands as our SUV spun across three lanes. I remember the sound of metal crushing and glass breaking.

Then... nothing.

But then... I was floating above our car.

🚑 I could see the ambulance lights flashing. People were running around below me. The rain was still pouring, but I couldn't feel it.

I watched as they pulled my body out of the wreckage. My favorite blue volleyball shorts were torn. My face was covered in blood.

Mom was crying, being held back by a firefighter. Tyler was already in an ambulance. I tried to yell, "Mom, I'm okay, I'm right here," but she couldn't hear me.

✨ Then everything got really bright. The ambulances, the highway, Mom — it all faded away. I felt myself being pulled through what felt like a tunnel of light.

It wasn't scary. It felt warm, like when you stand in the sunlight on the first day of summer.

That's when I saw him.

✝️ Jesus was standing there, and he was nothing like the pictures in Sunday school. He was... I don't even have words.

Light poured from him, but somehow I could still see his face. His eyes. They looked right through me like he knew every thought I'd ever had.

Every mean text I'd ever sent. Every TikTok video I'd ever posted. But he still loved me completely.

When he smiled at me, I felt like I was home. Really home. Not like our house back in Oak Ridge — something deeper.

"Madison." He said my name, and it sounded like music. His voice wasn't loud, but it filled everything.

I started crying. Not sad tears. I don't know how to explain it.

I just felt everything at once. All the love I'd ever wanted, and all the peace I never knew I needed.

"Am I dead?" I asked him.

"For a little while," he said. "But I have something to show you first. Something important."

He reached out his hand, and when I took it, suddenly we were somewhere else.

🖥️ It looked like a giant room with thousands of screens floating in the air.

On each screen, I could see kids my age — some younger, some older — all staring down at phones or tablets or computers.

"What is this?" I asked.

Jesus looked sad. "This is what I see every day. These are the children I love, but they cannot hear me anymore."

As we walked through the room, I could see closer. Each screen showed someone like me, hunched over. Scrolling mindlessly. Their eyes looked empty.

But the weird thing was, around each person were these... shadows. Dark figures that whispered things into their ears.

"What are those?" I whispered, moving closer to Jesus.

"The enemy's workers," he said. "They speak lies through the screens."

He brought me to one screen where a girl about my age was crying while scrolling through Instagram. Around her neck was what looked like a heavy chain, and at the end of it was her phone.

The shadows were putting more links on the chain with every swipe of her finger.

"Her name is Emma," Jesus said. "She believes she is worthless because she doesn't look like the filtered images she sees. She spends six hours every day comparing herself to lies."

I felt sick because... that was me too.

I remembered crying in my bedroom because Kylie posted pictures from her birthday party that I wasn't invited to. I'd spent three hours that night scrolling through everyone's perfect lives, feeling worse and worse.

👇🧵 Jesus touched the screen and I could hear Emma's thoughts:

"Nobody would care if I wasn't here anymore. Look how happy everyone else is."

"But that's not true," I said, "and people would care."

"You understand," Jesus said quietly. "But she cannot hear the truth anymore. The voices from her screen are too loud."

We moved to another screen.

🎮 A boy, maybe 12, was playing a violent game. With each kill in the game, the shadows around him grew bigger. He looked pale, with dark circles under his eyes.

"He hasn't slept more than four hours a night for three years," Jesus said. "The games were designed to keep him there, to make him need them. His parents don't know he's playing until 3am every night."

"His anger is growing. His ability to feel compassion is shrinking."

I thought about Tyler and how he'd thrown his controller at me last week when Mom made him turn off his game for dinner.

Jesus showed me more screens. Kids sending cruel messages to classmates while laughing. Girls taking inappropriate pictures to get attention.

Boys watching violent and sexual content that made the shadows around them dance with glee.

Everywhere, phones and tablets glowed like little prisons.

"Madison," Jesus said turning to me, "Do you know how many hours you've spent looking at a screen in your life?"

I shook my head. He waved his hand, and I saw what looked like an hourglass. But instead of sand, it was filled with moments of my life. Moments I'd never get back.

I saw myself sitting on the couch while my grandma tried to tell me stories about her childhood. But I was watching YouTube.

I saw hundreds of sunsets I'd missed because I was taking selfies instead of actually looking at them. I saw myself ignoring my brother when he wanted to play because I couldn't pause my TikTok scrolling.

"8,422 hours," Jesus said quietly. "That's how much of your life was given to a screen."

I did the math in my head. That was over a year of my life gone.

"But everyone does it," I whispered, feeling ashamed.

"Yes," Jesus said. "And that's why I'm showing you this. The enemy has found a way into every home, every bedroom, every mind, without anyone noticing. Parents give their children these devices without understanding they're handing them poison in small, addictive doses."

Then Jesus showed me something that broke my heart.

He showed me hundreds of moments where he had tried to speak to me — when I was alone in my room, or walking to school, or lying in bed at night. Times when his presence was there, when he wanted to comfort me or guide me.

But every single time, I'd reached for my phone instead. I'd chosen the noise over his voice.

"The greatest trick," Jesus said, "was making everyone believe they're connected when they're actually more alone than ever."

😭 Tears were streaming down my face now. "I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't know."

Jesus put his arm around me. "This is why you're seeing this, Madison, because others need to know."

Then he showed me one more scene.

It was our living room, but different. My family was playing a board game. No phones in sight. Everyone was laughing.

Outside it was raining, just like the day of the accident. But inside, it was warm and bright. I could almost smell mom's cookies baking.

"This could have been tonight," Jesus said softly, "if the phones had been put away."

💔 My heart felt like it was breaking. I never realized how much I'd missed by staring at a screen.

"Madison," Jesus said, "your time here isn't finished. You have an important message to share."

"But I don't want to go back," I said, and I meant it. Being with him felt so good, so right. "I want to stay with you."

He smiled that smile that made me feel completely loved. "I'm always with you, Madison. But your family needs you, and others need to hear what you've seen."

"Will they listen?" I asked.

"Some will," he said. "And that's enough to start changing things."

👇🧵

The Greatest Deception and Inversion of Truth- Jesus (Jeshua's) true teachings were nothing like what is pushed today.


Blasphemy