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.
I Went to Church and Accidentally Heard My Husband’s Voice Coming from the Confessional Booth
Amanda’s life seemed perfect — a loving husband, two wonderful kids, and a thriving family business. But one unexpected visit to the church turned her world upside down when she overheard her husband’s voice coming from the confessional booth, revealing secrets she never imagined.
If someone had asked me last month to describe my life, I’d have said it was near perfect. Eric and I had been married for 12 years, and we had two beautiful kids, Emily and Lucas. Our weekends were spent at soccer games, family picnics, and working together at our small café on Main Street.
Eric was my rock. He had this calming presence that could smooth over any storm. His gentle touch and reassuring smile could dissolve my anxieties like sugar in warm tea.
A couple holding hands | Source: Unsplash
“We’ve got this, Amanda,” he’d whisper during challenging moments, his fingers intertwining with mine. When Emily’s bicycle chain broke or Lucas struggled with a math problem, Eric would step in with his quiet expertise, making everything seem effortless.
That morning, when Eric kissed me goodbye, there was something different in his eyes — a fleeting shadow I couldn’t quite decode. “Running some errands,” he said, his voice steady, but something beneath it felt… different.
“Pick up milk,” I called after him, more out of habit than necessity. He winked and pointed at me like he always did, but the gesture now felt rehearsed and almost mechanical.
A man walking away | Source: Midjourney
With the house suddenly silent (the kind of silence that seemed to hold its breath) I decided to visit the old church a few blocks down. I hadn’t been there in years. Something about it felt right that day, though an inexplicable tremor of uncertainty rippled through my chest.
Little did I know that within those ancient stone walls, my perfect world was about to crumble.
The church smelled of old wood and candle wax, familiar and soothing. Dust motes danced in the filtered sunlight, suspended between rows of weathered pews.
I wandered through the space, letting my mind drift, hoping to find a moment of reprieve from the constant hum of daily life. It felt peaceful, like I’d discovered a delicate bubble of calm in my relentlessly busy world.
A woman in church | Source: Pexels
As I walked past the confessional booth, a familiar voice floated out… muffled at first, then gradually becoming more distinct.
My steps faltered, a cold shiver racing down my spine. It was Eric’s voice. The timbre was unmistakable… that low, controlled tone I’d known for 12 years.
No, I thought. That can’t be. Eric isn’t here. He’s running errands.
But then he spoke again, clearer this time. “Father, I need to confess something.” The words hung in the air, weighted with a burden I couldn’t comprehend.
I froze, every muscle in my body locking into place. My brain screamed at me to walk away, to unhear what was happening, but my feet seemed rooted to the worn marble floor.
A man in a confession booth in church | Source: Pexels
“I’ve been living a double life,” Eric said, his voice low and trembling. “I’ve been cheating on my wife, Amanda. I have a mistress… and two children with her.” Each word felt like a knife, systematically dismantling everything I believed about our marriage.
My knees nearly buckled. I reached out, desperate to steady myself against the wall, the cold stone biting into my palm like a sharp reminder that this wasn’t a nightmare, but a brutal, horrifying reality.
Mistress? Two children? My Eric?
The words echoed in my mind, fragmenting my entire understanding of our life together. Twelve years of shared memories, trust, and love — all crumbling in an instant.
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
I backed away, my head spinning, and my chest heaving as ragged breaths escaped me. Tears blurred my sight, transforming the sacred space into a kaleidoscope of broken light. I stumbled out of the church and into the bright morning sun, feeling like a ghost of myself.
I made it to the car before the first sob escaped. It tore through me, raw and uncontrollable…. like a sound of betrayal that seemed to rip from the deepest part of my soul. My hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white, the leather creaking beneath my trembling fingers.
Each breath felt like broken glass, sharp and painful. Then, my phone buzzed. Eric’s name flashed on the screen, mocking me with its casual familiarity.
A woman holding a phone flashing an inoming call | Source: Midjourney
I wiped at my face furiously, trying to steel myself and find some semblance of composure before answering. My reflection in the rearview mirror was a stranger… eyes red, skin pale, and a mask of shock and mounting fury.
“Hey,” I said, forcing calm into my tone, a performance worthy of an actress.
“Hi, hon,” he said, his voice as smooth and casual as ever. The endearment now felt like poison. “Just wanted to let you know I’m heading to a friend’s place to help with his car. Might take a couple of hours.”
A fresh wave of rage and despair surged through me. I could taste the bitterness of his lie and feel the weight of his deception. Yet, I swallowed it down.
“Sure,” I said tightly, each word a carefully controlled dagger. “I’ll see you at home later.”
A man talking on the phone | Source: Pexels
I hung up and stared at the dashboard, my mind reeling. He was lying to me. Calmly. Effortlessly. As if our entire life together was nothing more than a casual script he could rewrite at will.
The silence of the car pressed against me, heavy with the revelation that would forever split my life into “before” and “after”.
I didn’t go home. The thought of returning to our carefully curated life felt impossible. Instead, I parked across the street from the church and waited, my hands gripping the steering wheel like a lifeline.
An anxious woman sitting in a car | Source: Midjourney
Ten minutes later, Eric walked out, looking completely at ease. His movements were relaxed, and his face was unburdened by the confession I’d just overheard. He climbed into his car and pulled away, unaware that his entire world was about to shatter.
Something inside me snapped. A cold, calculated fury replaced my initial shock. I started my car and followed him.
He drove through town, taking backroads until he reached a quiet and familiar neighborhood. My heart pounded so loudly I could hear its rhythm in my ears. Each turn, each mile felt like a betrayal unfolding in real-time.
A man driving a car | Source: Unsplash
I watched as he parked in front of a small, familiar house — a place that used to represent warmth and friendship.
Susan’s house. The air left my lungs in a rush. Susan. My former best friend.
We hadn’t spoken in four years, not since a stupid fight over something so trivial it now seemed laughable. I couldn’t even remember the exact details, but it had been petty… something about her flaking on a lunch date and me accusing her of not caring about our friendship.
The irony wasn’t lost on me. Here she was, caring very deeply about something: MY HUSBAND.
A house surrounded by a beautiful garden | Source: Midjourney
I watched as Eric walked up to the door and knocked. Susan opened it, and my stomach lurched when she smiled at him… warm, intimate, and welcoming. The kind of smile reserved for someone who knows you deeply and who shares your secrets.
Then, they hugged. Not the casual hug of old friends, but something deeper. Intimate. Their bodies melting into each other with a familiarity that spoke volumes.
I sat frozen in my car, a silent witness to the unraveling of everything I thought I knew. As they disappeared inside together, the world around me seemed to blur and sound muted, and the colors dulled.
My perfect life had just become a lie.
A woman sitting in a car | Source: Pexels
I didn’t think. I just acted. Pure, raw emotion propelled me forward. I threw the car door open and stormed across the lawn, my blood boiling like molten lava. My hands trembled as I pounded on the door with a force that seemed to echo my shattered heart.
When Susan opened it, her face drained of color. The guilt was instantaneous, written across her features like a confession.
“Amanda,” she whispered, the name sounding more like a prayer of desperate apology.
A startled woman opening the door | Source: Midjourney
Eric appeared behind her, his eyes widening in shock, caught in a moment of pure vulnerability. “AMANDA? What are you doing here?” he stammered.
“What am I doing here?” I barked and shoved past Susan into the living room. “I should be asking YOU that.”
That’s when I saw them: two little girls playing on the floor. They looked up at me with wide, curious eyes… eyes that were unmistakably Eric’s. Same shape, same color, and same hint of mischief. They were carbon copies of the man I thought I knew.
An angry woman | Source: Midjourney
My knees threatened to give out, but rage held me upright like an invisible steel rod. “Are they yours?” I demanded, my voice a broken whisper that threatened to become a scream.
Eric sighed with a gesture of weary resignation, running a hand through his hair, a nervous habit I’d once found endearing. “Amanda, let me explain—”
“EXPLAIN?” I cut him off. “Explain how you’ve been sneaking around behind my back for years? How you’ve built an entire second family with my so-called best friend?”
A nervous man | Source: Midjourney
Susan stepped forward, her hands wringing like a pathetic gesture of remorse. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this—”
“Don’t you dare,” I snapped, whirling on her with a fury that made her step back. “You betrayed me. You, of all people. And for what? Your friend’s husband?”
Eric raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Amanda, let’s calm down and talk about this—”
“Calm down?” I laughed. “You don’t get to ask me to calm down, Eric. Not after this.”
The little girls stared, confused and frightened. For a moment, I felt a pang of guilt. They were innocent in this web of betrayal. But the feeling was quickly consumed by my rage.
Two frightened little girls sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney
“This is OVER,” I said, my voice trembling with a finality that felt like a death sentence. “I want a divorce. And you—” I pointed at Susan, each word dripping with venom, “you’re DEAD to me.”
The room fell silent, the weight of my words hanging like a guillotine, ready to sever the last threads of our shared history.
The divorce was swift and surgical, like cutting out a malignant tumor from my life. Eric didn’t contest it, which spoke volumes. Perhaps he knew the depth of his betrayal made any argument futile.
His family, once a second home to me, rallied around me, not him. His father, who had always treated me like the daughter he never had, cut ties with Eric entirely.
Divorce papers on a table | Source: Pexels
More than financial support, his continued presence felt like a validation. “You deserve so much more, Amanda,” he told me, his weathered hands squeezing mine with a protective fierceness that made me feel supported in my most vulnerable moments.
Eric’s betrayal had shattered me… initially. But in its devastating wake, I discovered a new kind of strength. A strength that wasn’t defined by my roles as a wife or a mother, but by who I was at my core. I wasn’t just Amanda the wife or Amanda the mother.
I was Amanda… a woman with her own identity, her own resilience, and her own power.
A woman looking outside | Source: Midjourney
The pain transformed me. Each tear, each moment of anger, and each sleepless night became fuel for my reconstruction. I wasn’t broken. I was breaking free.
As for Susan and Eric? They could have each other. Their betrayal was their burden to bear, not mine to carry. Because now, for the first time in years, I was truly free. And in that freedom, I found something far more valuable than the life I’d lost — MYSELF.
Portait of an emotional woman | 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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