Levels of Exaltation, Devilish Devices, and The White City

By Nicole Marie Hilton, Friday, October 7, 2022

            I spoke on the phone with a man in, I think, 2019 who has the ability to see with his pineal gland anything the Spirit wishes him to see—he is called a Seer, and he’s also LDS—I’ve never met him before and I can’t remember his name, which was a code name anyway so it really doesn’t matter.

            We had an incredible conversation over the phone. He explained to me the levels of exaltation.

            It is important to note that levels of exaltation refers to something different than what is typically thought of as reincarnation. It is, instead, referring to multiple mortal probations.

            I forget what the levels one through baby level four are. And for that, I apologize.

            Level four, Junior, are the John Pontius’s of the world—the communicators. Then level four, Senior, are the prophets and prophetesses down through the ages.

            Baby Level Five, are the Saviors.

            Level Five, Junior, are the Jehovahs—and I don’t understand the difference between these and the Saviors, although he tried to explain it to me when we talked on the phone.

            And Level Five, Senior, are the Elohims.

            Then, he used his spiritual gift to look at my spirit body, and he told me which level I was at that time. He sounded really surprised that I was a ‘level up’ from where he was. Then, he started to check the dark side’s programming of my body, and he exclaimed: “Sh*t! Sh*t! They’ve inserted devices into you…” I tried not to be surprised at his swearing—in fact, it comforted me in a strange way.

            Then he said, “I’m seeing you…Oh God…” I was surprised at his taking the Lord’s name in vain. Or maybe it was a prayer. “What? What is it?” I said.

            “I can’t tell you—you’ll be triggered.”

            “What are you seeing???”

            “I…you’re leg is up and…Oh sh*t. SH*T.”

            “What!?! I don’t remember anything like that. Just tell me.” I begged.

            But no matter how I tried to get him to tell me what he was seeing, he wouldn’t. Or couldn’t.

I type this on October 7th, 2022 in a long-term care facility I’m trying my best to not feel banished to, with about 80 aged roommates—including one who I think I’m here for. His name is Sam. I’m also…I dunno what the word for it is, is it celebrating? Or is it commiserating? My two year anniversary of jumping from Webb Hill in St. George, Utah, and leaving my broken body behind and going to heaven.

            I’ve never written about what happened after Jesus greeted me with my beloved labradoodle, Teddy Bear, and my golden retriever, Annie, in tow beneath that beautiful willow tree. Maybe now is the right time.

A Boost

“I’ll just give you a boost,” Jesus said, His eyes flashing with mirth, glee, joy—and a hundred other emotions I cannot name.

And, you know what He did? He pinched my butt as He was helping me onto Modoc the Elephant.

            “JESUS!” I laughed. “What the HELL?!”

            “You mean, Heaven, right?!”

“I thought I’m not supposed to swear by the Earth or the Heavens or anything like that!” I cried, situating myself on the elaborate seat on top of my favorite elephant, Modoc, who I had read about in a book on Earth.

“For you, I’ll make an exception—you can swear on the Earth—just this once,” he said. Then, suddenly, He threw His head back, and His pure laughter rang throughout the meadow, through an open smile that showed perfect almost pearlescent white teeth, seen through a perfectly trimmed beard. (Not a hair was out of place, despite all of the hugging we had been doing just moments earlier.)

There was some sort of inside joke going on, I could feel it—especially because Modoc trumpeted with glee as well. It was like I could also hear the bluebells laughing.

He was so childlike, I thought—as He skipped towards the front of Modoc to give him a “high five” with his hand to Modoc’s trunk.

I pridefully turned my nose up into the air and then readjusted myself on my seat—I’d decided to sit side saddle because it was more ladylike, but was beginning to regret my choice—what if I fell off in front of hundreds of people? Now, that would be a—

Jesus, looking at me with His startling blue eyes from under long lashes, one of His pierced hands up to His mouth, his elbow held in the crook of His other arm, started giggling, and then it was turning into full blown laughter again, when I yelled—half acting, half serious, “I’VE NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE, OKAAAAY?”

Then He put one fist on his hip and said, “How on MY gorgeous green planet do you know that?!”

There was another inside joke in there I wasn’t yet privy to—I could feel it. Especially when He made a thinly veiled snorting sound.

So, I pretended to pretend to get the joke, and put my nose to the sky and laughed—perhaps louder and longer than I should have in order to actually sell that I got all the subtext that was going on.

Which, of course, He knew.

I turned from acting all proud, trying to hide a smile (He knew I liked to be teased, I realized)— back to my right and down—back to Him. I couldn’t stop staring at his blue, blue eyes. He was magnificent.


            Amazing Grace.


            All of the good feelings were gushing out of my heart center and I could see his glorious energy as well. It lit up the whole sky, and the rose bushes and the White City in the distance.

            “Are…you okay?” He said coyly.

“You know.” I said, seriously. I needed Him to be serious for a moment.

“Yeah, I do…” He replied with a turn of emotion, suddenly every inch the Savior of all Mankind. His shoulders were broad, His voice lowered, and His eyes suddenly teary, and they were frank and full of comfort and truth. In those three words, He also communicated to me volumes about how my parents were doing back on Earth, and that everything was going to be okay.

He waited until I broke eye contact—but not until after a few tears had fallen down both our faces, then He turned and whistled just like Gandalf the White did in Lord of the Rings, and a beautiful white stallion came running up to us. Then Jesus mounted his steed like He did this everyday, and the horse turned in a circle, then trotted gaily in front of Modoc and I.

“You ready to see what this is all about?!” He said, turning his horse in a circle again and making eye contact with me.

“Yes!!!!” I yelled, my heart brimming with anticipation—of what, I didn’t know.

“Well, what are we waiting for?! Let’s DO this!!” He yelled to the sky, His right hand raised with His fingers splayed to the side of His face in a dramatic gesture that had me in hysterics. I could tell He loved making me laugh, and was being rather more dramatic than usual just to hear it.

And then my two dogs Teddy Bear and Annie took the lead.

During all of this I had been having a conversation on the side with Modoc, Teddy Bear and Annie (my mind, I found, could carry on quite a few lines of thought at the same time…) But I can’t remember what it was other than just logistics and what was going on. They were all very happy to see me and were up to date on my life! Teddy Bear mentioned that he was one of my constant Guardian Angels, as well.

Modoc put his trunk up into the air and trumpeted—drowning out my snorts of laughter— then our little procession started.

There was a white city in the distance—about a mile away. I could feel, or sense, the sacred stones that the city was built of actually calling to me.

As we got closer we were greeted by hundreds upon hundreds of dancers, banner carriers, music makers, and people carrying baskets of confetti dressed in elaborate costumes, every color of the rainbow and from every country and time on Earth. They fell into line before Annie and Teddy Bear—their tails waving proudly in the air–followed by Jesus Christ on His magnificent white horse, and then me following in the rear on Modoc the Elephant.

            And then there was the music.

            I cannot describe such music.

It was like James Horner, Hans Zimmerman, Chopin, Enya, Whitney Houston, and the Lyceum Philharmonic had a dose of Felix Felicis and had composed the perfect song of praise together, and that that song of praise was squared to the umpteenth power.

            The very stones themselves were singing as we all walked a golden road paved with them towards the White City.

We entered the white city, passing by golden gates with intricate carvings and runes I was too overwhelmed with emotion to memorize.

            Confetti in the form of fragrant rose petals was being spread from balconies above with cherubic faces laughing as little hands threw it into the air.

There was a moving mass of white robes and faces shining with beauty and light on either side of the street.

I cannot describe the millions of people lining the street, or the beautiful buildings made of diamonds and other precious stones, every inch a masterpiece. I cannot describe how fields of light started pulsing from my heart center—getting wider and wider until great flashes of light lit up all the faces around me, and lit up the sky in levels that would blind people back on earth.

        I cannot describe how it felt to reach the most magnificent building I’ve seen, The Library Temple, and how it felt to see Jesus Christ reach His pierced hands up to meet mine as I dismounted into His arms, laughing and weeping with joy as I collapsed into His warm embrace.

Published by Nicole Marie Hilton

Hi, I'm Nicole. I suffer from amnesia and multiple personalities caused by childhood trauma and a gauntlet of spiritual Satanic abuse. Professionals refer to this as Dissociative Identity Disorder and Satanic Ritual Abuse (DID/SRA). The wounds and evil programming from DID/SRA create a continuing cycle of spiritual, emotional, mental, and social destruction for the victim and their loved ones. Most professional therapists misdiagnose or misunderstand it and do more harm than good. Healing requires plunging the very depths of Christ's atonement for the victims and their loved ones. The process exposes Satan's methods and Christ's power, and this knowledge is essential to anyone seeking to ascend above this mortality. This is the story of my wounding and my ongoing healing with my Savior Jesus Christ.

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