Woman Claims to Spend 3 Days in Heaven, Returns with Profound Message

Julie Poole, a woman who claims to have “died and spent three days in heaven,” has been sharing the profound and chilling messages she received from what she describes as “angelic beings” in a “higher realm.” Her story begins at 21 when, overwhelmed by years of emotional, physical, mental, and sexual abuse, she attempted suicide by overdosing on medication. What followed, according to Poole, was not the end of her life but a transformative experience that has shaped her beliefs and career as a spiritual guide.

After her overdose, Poole describes being “dead” for three days, during which time she visited what she calls the “higher realm.” There, she says she was greeted by spiritual beings, who were not only her guides but also messengers of mankind’s future. Among these beings was a “white shimmery figure” who enlightened her with visions of what was to come for humanity. According to Poole, these otherworldly beings revealed to her that she wasn’t destined to die that day, even though she believed she was ready to leave the pain of her life behind. They told her, “It’s not your time,” and sent her back to her earthly body, but not without a clear message: she would return to the higher realm at the age of 67.

Now in her early 60s, Poole says that she only has a few years left to live, based on this prophetic message. She continues to share the lessons she received during her time “in heaven,” claiming that these revelations were meant to guide humanity toward a more enlightened future. One of the key messages she received was about the purpose of her own suffering. According to Poole, the spirits told her that before she was born, she had chosen a life filled with hardship in order to “clear karma” from previous lives. Despite their warnings that such a life would be difficult, she accepted the challenge, believing it was a necessary step in balancing her spiritual debts.

“They warned me it would be too hard and too overwhelming,” Poole recalls. “But I chose this life anyway. And now here I was at 21, trying to check out… and they had to heal me enough to send me back.” The spirits emphasized to her that part of her mission in life was to forgive—herself and others—because forgiveness, they said, is one of the highest vibrational forms of love.

In addition to her personal journey of healing and forgiveness, Poole was also given a glimpse of what she calls the “Golden Age” for humanity, a future era of peace, equality, and spiritual awakening. She was told that this age was already in progress and would occur between 2012 and 2032. According to Poole, this Golden Age would bring an end to the power struggles, corruption, and control that have defined human history for millennia. “The beings told me that for so long, power and control had been concentrated in the hands of a few, while the masses were left to suffer under this imbalance,” she explains. “But in the Golden Age, all that is false and corrupt will fall away, and humanity will experience true equality.”

Poole’s guides told her that the shift toward this Golden Age would not be marked by dramatic cataclysms or “Armageddon” but would instead involve the gradual unraveling of the systems that have oppressed humanity. “This isn’t about the end of the world,” Poole says. “It’s about the end of the old ways. The power structures that have stifled human potential will crumble, and people will be free to live with greater truth, love, and fairness.”

She also claims that individuals like herself—those who have had near-death experiences or spiritual awakenings—are being sent back to Earth with a mission: to share these messages of hope and help humanity transition into this new era. Poole says her role is to help others understand the significance of the changes ahead and to encourage them to embrace forgiveness and compassion as tools for personal and collective healing.

But Poole’s revelations don’t stop there. She also believes that extraterrestrial beings play a key role in this transformative period for humanity. According to her, “ETs,” or beings of light, have been visiting Earth for many years, helping humanity in ways that most people are not aware of. These extraterrestrial beings, Poole says, are far more advanced than humans—technologically, spiritually, and in every other way. She insists that they have been closely monitoring humanity’s progress and will intervene if necessary to prevent global catastrophes.

One specific example Poole gives is the potential threat of nuclear warfare. She claims that if world leaders ever become “trigger-happy” with nuclear weapons, these advanced extraterrestrial beings will step in to stop it. “They will not let us blow ourselves up,” Poole asserts. “They will not let us destroy this planet. They will step in if we push things too far.”

While Poole’s claims are certainly extraordinary, they have also earned her a following. She has built a career as a “spiritual master” and life coach, helping people navigate their own journeys of healing and personal growth. Through her YouTube channel and other platforms, Poole continues to share her story and the insights she believes she received during her near-death experience.

Now in her early 60s and with only a few years left before the age she was told she would return to the higher realm, Poole remains focused on her spiritual mission. She believes that her purpose on Earth is to prepare others for the coming changes, helping them to release old patterns of fear, anger, and division, and embrace a higher vibration of love and forgiveness.

As she reflects on her life and the messages she received, Poole is clear on one thing: the future of humanity, while uncertain, holds great promise. She remains convinced that the Golden Age is near, and she feels privileged to have been given a glimpse of it during her time in the higher realm. For Julie Poole, the lessons of her near-death experience continue to shape her life and guide her work as she prepares for whatever comes next—both in this world and the next.

My Mom Put My Car Into Her Storage Unit to Punish Me – When I Saw What Else She Was Hiding There, I Went Pale

I craved adventure and freedom, but it came at the cost of my mother’s tears. One day, she put my car in her storage unit to punish me for coming home late. I did what any 17-year-old boy would do. I stole the keys to the unit to retrieve my car, but what I found hidden there shattered my heart like glass.

Do you love your mother? What a silly question to ask! I often dreaded coming home, you know. Mom’s questions fired at me the moment I walked in. “Where were you, Eddie? Why are you late? Bla bla bla!” I couldn’t understand why she was suffocating me with her constant concern. If only I’d known then what I know now, I would’ve given anything to hear her scold me again.

Portrait of a sad teenage boy | Source: Midjourney

Portrait of a sad teenage boy | Source: Midjourney

It was the autumn of 2021. I was 17, craving adventure and independence. Every day, it was the same routine. I’d barely get my key in the lock before my mom Charlotte’s voice would ring out from inside.

“Eddie? Is that you?”

I’d brace myself, knowing what was coming next. The moment I stepped through that door, she’d be there, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, brimming with tears.

God, not again! I’d roll my eyes.

A teary-eyed woman | Source: Midjourney

A teary-eyed woman | Source: Midjourney

“I was worried sick, and you don’t even care. How could you be so irresponsible?”

The questions came rapid-fire, each one making me feel smaller, more suffocated. I’d try to answer, but my words always seemed to fall short.

“I was just out with friends, Mom. We lost track of time.”

“Lost track of time? Eddie, you know better than that. This is unacceptable. You need to start taking me seriously.”

An annoyed teenage boy frowning | Source: Midjourney

An annoyed teenage boy frowning | Source: Midjourney

“I’m 17, Mom. You don’t need to worry about me every second.”

But she did worry. Every. Single. Second. A lot lately. Weird. And it was driving me crazy.

I didn’t understand then. How could I?

I was too caught up in my own world, too eager for freedom to see what was really happening. But looking back now, I wish I’d paid more attention. I wish I’d seen the fear behind her questions, the love behind her worry.

Because soon enough, I’d understand why she held on so tight. And when I did, it broke my heart.

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney

The day everything changed started like any other. I came home late, way past curfew. Mom was waiting in the living room, the dim light casting shadows across her face.

“Eddie, we need to talk about this.”

I sighed, dropping my backpack by the door. “Mom, please. Not tonight. I’m tired.”

“You’re tired? I’ve been up for hours, wondering where you were and if you were safe. I haven’t eaten a thing because I was so worried about you.”

“I’m fine, okay?” I snapped. “Why do you always have to make such a big deal out of everything?”

A frustrated teenage boy frowning | Source: Midjourney

A frustrated teenage boy frowning | Source: Midjourney

She flinched, and for a moment, I saw something in her eyes. Hurt, maybe, or disappointment. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by anger.

“You’re grounded,” she sternly said. “And I’m taking your car keys.”

“What? Mom, you can’t do that!” I protested, but she had already turned away.

“We’ll talk about this in the morning.”

I stomped up to my room, slamming the door behind me. I didn’t know it then, but that would be the last time I’d slam a door in her face.

A boy gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney

A boy gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney

The next morning, my car was gone. Just gone. I ran back inside, panic rising in my throat.

“Mom! My car’s missing!”

She looked up from her coffee, her face calm. “I moved it, Eddie. You’ll get it back when you start showing some responsibility.”

I couldn’t believe it. “You can’t just take my car! Grandma gave it to me! You have no right—”

“I’m your mother. I’m doing what’s best for you.”

I stormed back to my room, furious and determined to get my car back. That’s when I hatched my plan. I knew she had a storage unit. It had to be there.

A boy storming upstairs | Source: Midjourney

A boy storming upstairs | Source: Midjourney

I waited until she left for a doctor’s appointment, then snuck into her room to find the keys. It felt wrong, but my anger overshadowed my guilt.

I had to get my freedom back. My car was my pride and love. It was my everything.

When I reached the storage unit, I felt a surge of triumph. I’d show her. I’d get my car and prove I could be responsible.

But when I opened that door, I FROZE.

A startled teenage boy | Source: Midjourney

A startled teenage boy | Source: Midjourney

Boxes. Dozens of them. Gift-wrapped. All neatly labeled with my name and future dates?

My stomach dropped as I read the labels: “18th birthday,” “Graduation,” “First job,” “Wedding,” and “Baby Shower?”

With shaking hands, I opened the box marked for my 18th birthday. Inside was a brown leather jacket, the exact one I’d been eyeing for months. How did she know?

I reached for another box, this one labeled “Graduation.” It was full of letters, all addressed to me, all in her handwriting.

A pile of gift-wrapped boxes | Source: Midjourney

A pile of gift-wrapped boxes | Source: Midjourney

The truth hit me hard as I sat there on the cold concrete floor, surrounded by pieces of a future Mom had carefully planned for me.

The doctor’s appointments. The exhaustion. The way she’d been holding on so tight.

Mom was sick. Really sick.

My eyes welled up as I pieced it all together. She wasn’t punishing me. She was PREPARING. Preparing for a time when she wouldn’t be here to see these milestones.

A teary-eyed teenage boy | Source: Midjourney

A teary-eyed teenage boy | Source: Midjourney

I don’t know how long I sat there, crying among the boxes of my future. All I know is that when I finally left that storage unit, I wasn’t the same person who had entered it.

I hurried home in a daze, my anger replaced by a crushing guilt. How could I have been so blind? So selfish?

I slipped quietly into the house, returning her keys as if I’d never touched them.

The anger that had consumed me for weeks was gone, replaced by guilt. I’d been so wrapped up in my own problems that I’d completely missed what was happening right in front of me.

A key hung on a holder | Source: Midjourney

A key hung on a holder | Source: Midjourney

Later that night, Mom was in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove. She looked up, surprise flickering across her face.

“Eddie? I thought you’d be out with friends.”

I crossed the room in three strides and wrapped my arms around her, hugging her tighter than I had in years.

“Eddie? What’s wrong?”

I pulled back, looking into her eyes. “Nothing’s wrong, Mom. I just… I love you. You know that, right? After Dad left us, you were my rock.”

A teary-eyed woman in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A teary-eyed woman in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney

She cupped my face in her hands, her eyes searching mine. “Awwww, of course, I know that, sweetie. I love you too. And I’ll always be your rock, okay?”

I helped her finish dinner that night, and we ate together at the table for the first time in months. We talked about everything and nothing, and I soaked up every word, every laugh, and every moment.

As I was clearing the dishes, I turned to her. “Hey, Mom? I’m sorry. For everything.”

She smiled a sad, beautiful smile, one that I’ll never forget. “Oh, Eddie. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

But I did. And I was determined to make it right. Without letting her know that I knew her secret.

A teary-eyed boy smiling | Source: Midjourney

A teary-eyed boy smiling | Source: Midjourney

The next few months were different.

I stopped going out late and stopped fighting her on every little thing. Instead, we spent our evenings watching old movies, looking through photo albums, cooking, and just being together.

One night, as we sat on the porch swing, watching the sunset, she turned to me.

“Eddie, there’s something I need to tell you.”

I knew what was coming, but it still felt like a punch to the gut when she said the words.

“I’m sick, honey. And it’s not getting better.”

A sad woman sitting on a swing | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman sitting on a swing | Source: Midjourney

I took her hand, squeezing it gently. I didn’t want to know what it was that was going to steal her away from me.

“I know, Mom. How long have you known?”

She sighed, looking out at the fading light. “A while now. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t want to burden you.”

“Mom, You could never be a burden. Never.”

We sat there in silence, watching the stars come out one by one. And for the first time in a long time, I felt at peace.

The last few months with Mom were the best we’d ever had. We didn’t waste time on arguments or petty disagreements. Every moment was precious, and we both knew it.

Silhouette of a boy with his mother on the beach | Source: Midjourney

Silhouette of a boy with his mother on the beach | Source: Midjourney

She told me stories from her childhood, taught me how to cook her famous lasagna, and showed me old home videos I’d never seen before.

And through it all, she never complained, never showed fear. She was so strong, right until the end. And then, the day I dreaded came.

Mom slipped away in her sleep, a small smile on her face. And though I thought I was prepared, the loss hit me harder than I could have imagined.

A cemetery | Source: Midjourney

A cemetery | Source: Midjourney

Months passed.

On my 18th birthday, I opened the box she’d left for me for this day. I put on the brown leather jacket, feeling closer to her somehow. And I read the first of many letters she’d written, her words bringing both tears and comfort.

“My dearest Eddie,” it began. “If you’re reading this, it means I’m not there to celebrate this day with you. But know that I’m with you, always. I’m so proud of the man you’ve become.”

I read those words repeatedly, hearing her voice in every sentence.

A boy wearing a brown leather jacket | Source: Midjourney

A boy wearing a brown leather jacket | Source: Midjourney

It’s been two years now, but I still have those boxes.

Some days, I think about opening another one, but then I stop myself. It’s like I’m saving Mom for later, piece by piece because even though she’s gone, she’s still somehow with me.

I’ve learned that love doesn’t end with death. It lives on in memories, in the lessons we’ve learned, and in the person we’ve become because of that love.

Mom taught me that. She taught me so much, right up until the end. And maybe, when the time is right, I’ll open the next box, and she’ll teach me something new all over again.

A pile of gift boxes on a bed | Source: Midjourney

A pile of gift boxes on a bed | Source: Midjourney

But for now, I’m holding onto the memories we made in those last precious months. The laughter, the quiet moments, and the love that filled every second. Because in the end, that’s what matters most.

Love. Family. The time we had together.

And I’ll cherish every moment, just like she taught me to.

A thoughtful boy smiling | Source: Midjourney

A thoughtful boy smiling | Source: Midjourney

To those who’ve just finished reading my story, I have one request: go and hug your mother. Right now. There’s no force more powerful, more pure than a mother’s love. Cherish it while you can. Never take her for granted, and please, never hurt her with harsh words or thoughtless actions.

You see, God doesn’t walk down from the heavens. He’s already sent us angels in the form of our mothers. Hold onto yours tight, and never let go. Because one day, like me, you might find yourself wishing for just one more hug, one more scolding… and one more chance to say “I love you.”

Love you, Mom. Forever & Ever. 

A woman's tomb | Source: Midjourney

A woman’s tomb | Source: Midjourney

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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