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 Husband Refused to Replace Our Broken Vacuum and Said I Should Sweep Since I’m ‘Just on Maternity Leave’ — So I Taught Him a Lesson He’ll Never Forget

When our vacuum broke, my husband said I should just sweep because I’m “home all day anyway.” So I grabbed our newborn and a broken broom and showed up at his office to remind him exactly what that really looks like.

I’m 30. I just had my first baby, a sweet little girl named Lila. She’s 9 weeks old, and yeah—she’s perfect. But also? She’s chaos. She screams like she’s in a horror movie. Hates naps. Hates being put down. Basically lives in my arms.

A fussy baby in his mother’s arms | Source: Pexels

I’m on unpaid maternity leave, which sounds relaxing until you realize it means I’m working a 24/7 shift with no help, no breaks, and no paycheck.

I’m also handling the house. And the laundry. And the meals. And the litter boxes. We have two cats, both of whom shed like it’s their full-time job.

A tired woman sitting on a couch | Source: Pexels

My husband Mason is 34. He works in finance. Used to be sweet. When I was pregnant, he made me tea and rubbed my feet. Now? I’m not sure he sees me. I’m the woman who hands him the baby so he can say “she’s fussy” and give her back five seconds later.

Last week, the vacuum died. Which, in a house with two cats and beige carpet, is like losing oxygen.

A woman vacuuming | Source: Pexels

“Hey,” I told Mason while he was playing Xbox. “The vacuum finally kicked it. I found a decent one on sale. Can you grab it this week?”

He didn’t even look up. Just paused his game and said, “Why? Just use a broom.”

I blinked. “Seriously?”

He nodded. “Yeah. My mom didn’t have a vacuum when we were kids. She raised five of us with a broom. You’ve got one. And you’re home all day.”

A man lounging on the couch | Source: Pexels

I stared at him.

“You’re not joking,” I said.

“Nope.” He smirked. “She didn’t complain.”

I let out this weird laugh. Half choking, half dying inside.

“Did your mom also carry a screaming baby around while sweeping with one arm?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Probably. She got it done. Women were tougher back then.”

A man arguing with his wife | Source: Pexels

I took a breath. Tried to keep calm. “You do know the baby’s crawling soon, right? She’s going to have her face in this carpet.”

Another shrug. “The place isn’t that bad.”

I looked around. There were literal cat tumbleweeds in the corner.

“And anyway,” he added, “I don’t have spare money right now. I’m saving for the yacht trip next month. With the guys.”

“You’re saving for what?”

A man turning away from his wife | Source: Pexels

“The boat weekend. I told you. I need the break. I’m the one bringing in income right now. It’s exhausting.”

That’s when I stopped talking. Because what was I going to say?

“You haven’t changed a diaper in days?” “You nap while I pump milk at 3 a.m.?” “You think scrubbing spit-up off a onesie is relaxing?”

I didn’t say any of it. I just nodded.

A sad woman sitting on the couch | Source: Pexels

Apparently, child-rearing is a spa retreat now, and the woman doing it doesn’t deserve a working vacuum. That night, after Lila finally fell asleep on my chest, I didn’t cry. I didn’t yell.

I just sat in the hallway. The light was off, but the dim glow from the nightlight hit the baby monitor just right. It was quiet. Too quiet.

I looked at the broken vacuum. Then I looked at the broom.

A crying woman | Source: Pexels

I got up. Took the broom in both hands. Snapped it clean in half.

The next morning, while Mason was at work, I texted him.

“Busy day at the office?”

“Yeah. Back-to-backs. Why?”

“Oh. No reason. I’m just on my way.”

A woman talking on her phone at home | Source: Pexels

I packed Lila into the car, still red-faced from her morning meltdown. I tossed the broken broom in the back.

And I drove.

I pulled into the parking lot of Mason’s office with Lila screaming in the back like I’d strapped her into a rocket seat instead of a car seat. She’d just blown out her diaper on the drive, and she wasn’t shy about letting me know how she felt about it.

A baby crying | Source: Pexels

Perfect.

I wiped spit-up off my shirt, threw a burp cloth over my shoulder, hoisted the broken broom, and unbuckled the baby.

“Alright, Lila,” I muttered. “Let’s go say hi to Daddy.”

His office building was all glass and steel and fake smiles. I walked in with a red-faced baby in one arm and a jagged broom handle in the other.

A woman holding a baby | Source: Pexels

The receptionist blinked twice when she saw us.

“Can I help—?”

“I’m Mason Carter’s wife,” I said, smiling widely. “He left something important at home.”

“Oh. Um. Sure. He’s in a meeting, but you can go back.”

I walked past her desk like I owned the place.

A kind woman holding a baby | Source: Pexels

Lila started wailing again just as I turned the corner into the conference room. There he was. Mason. Sitting at a long glass table with four coworkers, laughing about something on a spreadsheet like he didn’t have a wife slowly unraveling at home.

He looked up. His face went white.

“Babe—what are you doing here?” he said, standing up fast.

I walked straight in and laid the two snapped broom pieces gently on the table in front of him.

A shocked man | Source: Pexels

“Honey,” I said, shifting Lila on my hip, “I tried using the broom like your mom did with her five kids. But it broke. Again.”

The room went silent. Someone coughed. One guy just stared at his laptop like it was suddenly the most interesting thing he’d ever seen.

I looked around the room and kept going.

A woman cuddling a sleeping baby | Source: Pexels

“So,” I said calmly, “should I keep sweeping the carpet with my hands while holding your daughter? Or are you going to buy a new vacuum?”

Mason looked like he might actually faint. His eyes darted between me, the broom, and his coworkers. His jaw opened and closed like he couldn’t decide which disaster to address first.

“Can we talk outside?” he said, his voice sharp and low, already standing.

“Of course,” I said with a smile.

A tired man looking at the camera | Source: Pexels

He yanked the door closed behind us hard enough that the glass shook.

“What the hell was that?” he hissed. His face was bright red now, all his calm corporate charm gone.

“That was me being resourceful,” I said. “Like your mom.”

“You embarrassed me!” he snapped, glancing over his shoulder toward the conference room. “That was a client pitch. My boss was in there.”

An angry businessman | Source: Pexels

“Oh, sorry,” I said, cocking my head. “I thought you said this was all part of the job. Housewife stuff. What’s the issue? I’m just doing what you said.”

He ran a hand over his face, frustrated. “I get it, okay? I messed up. I’ll get the vacuum today.”

“No need,” I said. “I already ordered one. With your card.”

I turned and walked out, Lila still crying, broom handle still under my arm.

A baby crying in their mother’s arms | Source: Pexels

Mason got home that night quieter than usual. He didn’t toss his shoes in the hallway. Didn’t drop his keys on the counter like usual. Didn’t even glance at the Xbox.

I was on the couch feeding Lila. The living room was dim except for the glow from a floor lamp and the soft hum of the white noise machine in the corner. He sat down across from me, hands folded like he was waiting to be called into the principal’s office.

A serious man sitting down | Source: Pexels

“I talked to HR today,” he said.

I looked up slowly. “HR?”

He nodded, staring at the carpet like it had answers. “Yeah. About our… situation. I said we were going through an adjustment. Stress at home. Lack of sleep. You know.”

I blinked at him. “You mean, you told your job your wife embarrassed you because she’s tired and doesn’t have a vacuum?”

A woman talking to an annoyed man | Source: Pexels

He rubbed his neck. “That’s not what I said. I just… I didn’t mean to be dismissive, okay? I’ve got a lot going on too.”

I let a beat pass. Lila made a soft grunt in her sleep.

I didn’t yell. Didn’t even raise my voice. I just looked at him and said, calm as ever, “Mason, you’re either a husband and a father, or you’re a roommate with a guilt complex. You decide.”

A woman talking to her husband | Source: Pexels

He opened his mouth like he might argue. Then he closed it. Just nodded slowly, lips pressed together like he was swallowing something bitter.

The next morning, the yacht trip got canceled. He said the guys were “rescheduling,” but I didn’t ask questions. Pretty sure “the guys” didn’t even know it was happening.

A man talking on his phone | Source: Pexels

That week, he vacuumed every rug in the house—twice. He looked like he was fighting a war with the dust bunnies. Didn’t say a word about it.

He changed three diapers without being asked. Took the 3 a.m. bottle shift two nights in a row, even when Lila screamed in his face like she knew he was new at it. He paced the hallway with her until she passed out on his shoulder.