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.
“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, just this once,” he said through a 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.
I couldn’t stop staring at his blue, blue eyes. He was magnificent.
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.
“Yeah, I do.” He replied, His voice and eyes 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, 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 trotted gaily in front of Modoc and I.
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. 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—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 on either side, or the shining 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.