“Spirit of the Empath” — Kenneth Hope

WGA Reg. No. 1817794

PROLOGUE

TO THOSE WHO FEEL THERE IS MORE: There is . . .

There are things that you particularly know that no one on this earth is aware of . . . secret things that you can’t put your finger on; but you feel them. You know they are unique to you and that you are special.

Every human being has a universal puzzle piece that is theirs alone. We all have this seed of creation, singularly designed for us to discover, but we are not all sensitive to it. Empathy is the missing key, and not all people are empathetic — in fact there are few true empaths . . . some people are more open to it — but empathy involves understanding and understanding takes courage. Fear keeps us from knowing others and knowing others is the only way to know truth. Our own truth reveals to us our purpose. If you do not realize who you are and what your true purpose is — don’t worry — destiny always finds a way (just not always the way it at first designed).

Mildred Coy

Mildred Coy

This fictional account starts with synthesized bits from the life of one Mildred Coy (“Millie”). Some of the story has been passed down through her children, but the translation came to me in a kind of waking dream — she spoke to me from where she was.

The near death experiences, dreams and visions that you may have heard so many tell of are to a large degree, all true. In fact, a lot of the fictional stories explaining the “whys of life” have validity in reality because we are all constantly projecting the future and by that projection changing the past. (This is a magical concept.) Your thoughts can become real . . . you are constantly adding to a collective thought matrix and defining a real heaven . . . and a real hell. There are levels to each and the conditions are always changing.

This story will ultimately be a literary pentarchy — dedicated to those who have borne so much pain to bring it to pass.

Neither your time of birth nor time of death is altogether random or chance. There are mathematical formulas running through the whole of each of our existences — specifically and uniquely for us and in tandem with all other sentient life as a whole.

Harry S. Truman - U.S. President (May 8, 1884 – December 26, 1972) – Lived 32,373 days ( 88 years, 7 months, 18 days excluding the end date) or 2,797,027,200 seconds - 46,617,120 minutes - 776,952 hours - 4624 weeks and 5 days

Harry S. Truman – U.S. President (May 8, 1884 – December 26, 1972) – Lived 32,373 days ( 88 years, 7 months, 18 days excluding the end date) or 2,797,027,200 seconds – 46,617,120 minutes – 776,952 hours – 4624 weeks and 5 days

Millie crossed paths with both Presidents Roosevelt (when she was very young) and Truman. There was a purpose for this but it had nothing to do with the human realm. It does have something to do with “cats.” (Animals are more important than many of us realize; but that is a whole other story.) I may go into deeper detail regarding that in the book to come (if it seems prudent at that time).

“Abstractly,” and I really can’t say more at this time, the relationship (of animals and humans) can best be hinted at by the seeming coincidence of two men each born around the same time with the name Harry Truman.

Harry Randall Truman – owner of Spirit Lodge on Mt. St. Helen’s (October 30, 1896 – May 18, 1980) – Lived 30,515 days (83 years, 6 months, 18 days excluding the end date) or 2,636,496,000 seconds - 43,941,600 minutes - 732,360 hours - 4359 weeks and 2 days

Harry Randall Truman – owner of Spirit Lodge on Mt. St. Helen’s (October 30, 1896 – May 18, 1980) – Lived 30,515 days (83 years, 6 months, 18 days excluding the end date) or 2,636,496,000 seconds – 43,941,600 minutes – 732,360 hours – 4359 weeks and 2 days

— the oddity of these two men born with the same name is the fact that both were involved in major world impacting explosions. This coincidence is not a coincidence. President Harry S. Truman is the U.S. President responsible for dropping the atom bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Harry Randall Truman was the owner of Mount St. Helens Lodge at Spirit Lake who stubbornly refused to leave despite evacuation orders (even as scientists were predicting the eruption of Mt. St. Helen that ended up burying Harry Randall and his 16 cats).

One man was involved in the causation of a cataclysmic explosion — one was the recipient of the effects of a cataclysmic explosion. (Those of you who tend to like math will notice some interesting correlations between the two Messrs. Truman’s calculated duration of days on Earth.) These are interesting side notes, pertinent to the story, but one just can’t tell everything in the complexities of lives that are “spirit driven.”

. . .

Millie was an articulate speaker and in the 1930-40s, the head of a newly forming and very powerful laundry union. Never take for granted those who serve you — who fix your food, clean your clothes, house or car. If you’re not careful and gracious your roles will eventually be reversed. That is just the circle of life. What you do for others — not what you do for yourself will ultimately determine your celestial position.

 

“A VIEW FROM HEAVEN”

by Lucas Drôme

BOOK I of III

MILDRED COY — THE END (of my Earth Adventure) and BEGINNING

…..The day I passed from this life, I had many things on my heart and mind. I had not been well for years, but always treasured every breath and, like most people, dreaded the thought of not breathing.Windy night

…..I was cold and couldn’t get comfortable when just like that – I gasped – took one last breath and began to lose consciousness. I remember being thankful at that moment for the years I knew and called on the Lord for strength.

…..Prayer was natural for me and I mentally uttered a silent last one as I stopped breathing. Instantly, I heard a voice distinctly say, “Come.”

…..It made me smile.

…..I was surprised at how quickly my consciousness returned and how alert I felt. It was so natural to continue living.

…..The moment you are “released” from the human body you realize how awkward the heavy tent of flesh we grow so attached to living in really is. I stood, although I was not quite touching the ground. I didn’t rise to the top of the ceiling or do anything I’ve heard stories about. The one rumor about death I did experience was the trail of memories. Pictures of significant events flashed by like some kind of slide show: I saw my children being born, the first kiss between my husband and I, my meetings with Presidents Roosevelt and Truman (another story), the many wonderful backyard picnics I enjoyed with my family . . .

…..I seemed to be the same person. That realization was both exhilarating and extremely weird. Slipping through the wall of my house into the yard seemed like the most natural thing in the world. There were no angels to meet me, no guide, no tunnel of light, no sound –- surprisingly –- no fear. Although I was outside, I could clearly see inside the room I had just left. My daughter, Claudia, was holding what was left of the body I had inhabited for over 80 years. The scene was understatedly surreal. I knew the body she held was not really me.

…..My new form was light, youthful, athletic and I was thrilled to feel its new freedom. A strange lilac-hued early morning sun was not quite up and I instinctively knew I was supposed to leave Earth. I even knew where I was to go. I guess this is the same instinct that drives birds south when its time to migrate –- but my circumstances were special.

…..My oldest daughter, Connie, had been in a comma for the past several years and, although I had not been to see her because of my own disability –- I knew I was to go to her now and get her. She was coming with me.

…..I started towards her signal.

…..I call it that because that is the way her location came to me. I guess its something like radar. I not only knew where she was, I could sense where each of my 5 children were and could even see some of their dreams. A quick thought crossed my mind. As incredible as it seemed, death was — at that moment — the best thing that had ever happened to me.

…..Spirit travel is a little like ice skating. Each movement seems to take you several steps and you sort of glide on some unseen smooth surface. It was thrilling and somewhat sexual. I don’t know if it is proper to describe it like that, but that’s what it felt like to me at first. Maybe it was just the newness of movement after living in a sick body. Oh well, that’s one of the things I’ll analyze later.

…..I thought my trip across town would be instantaneous. Not so. I was fully aware of the light traffic, streetlights, houses and recognizable landmarks as I traveled up Connecticut Avenue to the nursing home that Connie was in. She was in a fetal position, asleep and in pain. I don’t know how I knew this -–but I did. In fact, I was aware of every cell in her living body. If you would have asked me in that instant, I could have given you the count of the hairs on her head. I’m not sure why this came to me, but it did, all in an instant. I gently tapped Connie on the shoulder. Her eyes opened immediately –- a question was on her face — but she was unable to speak. She was still in the coma. I briefly saw a dark form pass between us and again knew exactly what this was.

…..It was death -– it released her too.

…..I remember looking at the clock. It was 20 minutes after I had left my own home. For some reason this seemed strange. Time had seemed to stop, but apparently it had taken me the same time it normally would have to drive across town to where she was. Interesting. This other side of life was not as different as I had imagined it would be.

…..Connie’s corpse lay in the bed motionless as the energetic young woman I had known as my daughter in her 20s (or early 30s) came running to me almost knocking me down. It was a bit of a shock to both of us that we seemed to be the same age. What a strange and delightful sensation to meet your child as a contemporary. She had always been a lot taller than me. I was the same 5’2” I had always complained about being, but the thin hair I had always known was now luxurious, sandy brown curls and when I realized that I was looking at all of this without glasses and had more than 20/20 vision I screamed –- shocking Connie a bit.

…..“I can see . . . hallelujah, I can see without glasses!”

…..“Duh – news flash – . . . you’re also raised from the dead.” Connie hadn’t changed. The sarcasm was not a surprise. This was definitely my daughter -– true to form.

…..I was almost disappointed to find that the personality trait still irritated me; but ignored it, as I always had, and reveled in the amazement of our restored youth. I could not help staring at my beautiful daughter, minus the years of life’s choices that had come to roost – landing her in the nursing home. She had always been brilliant, talented, witty and gorgeous. My first motherly accomplishment had grown to 5’7” with bright burnished orange hair, creamy cocoa skin, a few freckles and a sharper tongue than any old sailor could probably ever think about having. No wonder it had been hard for her in the world we lived in, where women were supposed to answer softly and stay barefoot and pregnant. She tried her best –- never did grasp the gift of soft answers, but did deliver six kids and I had lost count of the grandkids by the time I left earth.

…..I thought silently, “Oh well, what other ‘treats’ await us in this Heaven –- indeed –- what treats? To my surprise, Connie commented on my thought about treats.

…..“Oh no –- she can’t read my mind –- Noooooooooooo.” Gratefully, I was to find that mind reading was occasional and only accessed when certain emotions were triggered.

…..As we exited the nursing home we were approached by several people. Two men and a woman – all of whom seemed vaguely familiar. Connie and I looked at each other, but both shrugged as neither of us could recall where. They called us by name and, although they looked our age, astounded us with the revelation that they were our great great great great great great grandparents –-

…..“Seven generations, preceding, to be exact.” The crisp white blouse on the heavily accented, Maria Ursula Frantz seemed to crackle as the petite woman introduced herself with all three names. She was formal and . . . distant. I had seen the look of disapproval that crossed her face before. I stared in amazement.

…..As if by some kind of personal rebuttal, I was suddenly (and distastefully) aware of — my own instant dislike for Maria Ursula Frantz. I felt embarrassed by it. I had to look around to see if there was someone present whispering in my ear. Prejudice? In heaven? This couldn’t be happening. “What kind of a cruel joke was this – I’m dead for heaven’s sake! (pardon the pun) . . . “some angel is supposed to be feeding me grapes and I’m supposed to be in the waiting arms of Jesus.” I silently screamed.

…..Connie looked at me and silently said, “Wait.” We both looked appreciatively at the handsome man stepping forward that accompanied Maria.

…... . . Now Charles David Sanders was quite a different story. Oh my, my. Were we supposed to have feelings of attraction –- here –- in Heaven? My heart raced as I tried to keep my expression neutral. He smiled. Oh no. Was that a flirt? Was my great, great –- 7th generation preceding grandfather flirting with me?

…..It was now that I began to think that perhaps I was dreaming. Maybe I hadn’t died, maybe this was all just one very long realistic dream. I reached down to pinch my arm –- hey –- I hadn’t done that since all of this started. Yeah, I thought, I should pinch myself.

…..It didn’t work. Everything remained the same.

…..We were still outside of the nursing home on Connecticut Avenue. Connie was standing there with her hands on her hips glaring at Maria, I had seemingly just flirted with my grandfather –- 7 generations past, I was in a young body, talking to my daughter who was the same age as I –- yes, we were definitely on another level of life –- or death –- or something.

…..When Josiah Cook said, “We better get going” everyone breathed.

…..“Oh wow – I’m breathing. Great. But, boy do I have a lot of questions?”

(To be continued . . . in the “Book”)

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BOOK II of III

TWENTY YEARS of HEAVEN — (1987 TO 2007 EARTH TIME)

…..Connie and I left Earth in December of 1987. We’ve seen a lot of our family come after us and have met a host of family we never even dreamed existed. Although the circumstances of how we came to be related to so many unusual ancestors is sometimes sad, the diversity of our bloodline is quite incredible and interesting. The stories go on forever – not always about what happened, but about the providence that has brought us all here and brought us all together.

…..The attraction I felt for Charles David Sanders (my grandfather – 7 generations removed) continues. Romance here is totally “unique” and not very common. It is highly discouraged at this point in our “restoration.” Unlike our short time on Earth, decisions here (made with more of an insight) have far reaching eternal consequences and we are daily schooled and reminded of those consequences by our special masters.

…..WATCH OUT!

…..As I looked out of the crystal clear glass of the Rain on windowtrain car we had been traveling in, the water cascading down its pane gave the tall woman (outside on the platform) dressed like some kind of native American Indian – kind of a bobble body effect. Maybe its just my perspective, but so far, I was finding being dead kind of amusing. I thought again, I should have done this sooner. Actually, the tall Indian was in addition a little scantily clad so I immediately looked over to Maria Ursula Frantz to see how she was reacting. Just like I thought. If scowls could kill – that Indian would be dead. I know people.

…..Connie was stirring from the same deep sleep I had come out of about 3 minutes ago. Deep sleep is not quite the description –- parts of the trip were coming back to me, but once the train left I guess we both fainted.

…..So let me go back a few frames, days, whatever . . .

…..The word that comes to mind when I think of my first impressions of our method of travel from Earth to “wherever we are now” and where I would spend the next 7 years of my life is “organic.”

…..After Josiah arrived on Connecticut Avenue right after I had gone to get Connie, we no longer traveled in the City. There was a colored cloud that slowly enveloped us as we were talking. That was the first time since dying that I had felt some fear. The cloud was in some sense beautiful but wet and the breath that I thought I was still privileged to grew labored. We seemed to be breathing something other than air – almost like being slowly anesthetized – yet aware. We arrived at some kind of underground cave-like train station. It was dimly lit and damp and would have been more eerie if I had not kept telling myself, “I’m dead, I’m dead – so what else can happen.”

…..Death is like life. Once you come out of the womb there’s not much you can do about it. You just start walking the course.

…..I can only describe the arriving train as some kind of ancient/futuristic living pod. Living, because it seemed to be breathing with rows of open cars containing cushioned brown leather like seats. Others boarded as we got on, but our small group stayed together in the same car. The sound of very light evenly paced bells and rushing water seemed to coincide with a smooth forward almost non-detectible motion. Glass windows glided into place over us and something like a sky, I hadn’t noticed before came into view. Connie and I, usually chatterboxes when traveling, could not speak. I was thinking at lightning speed and had so many questions I almost couldn’t remember my language, but the atmosphere “commanded” silence. This new existence has a lot of unspoken directions. It was the same way I knew how to travel to get Connie.

…..WAIT!

…..The tall Indian motioned for us to stop as an increasing crowd of people disembarked from the train. The crowd was no less congested than mid Manhattan (or Toyko) rush hour. Any fears I had were replaced by shock at the normality of it all – of course – except for the train, people waiting as we disembarked, sky, mountains, birds, train station or whatever that was and everything else.

…..Wow – did all these people just die? I have never seen 3,264,150 people at once before or anything close to that, but I just knew that was how many were present (just like I knew the hair count on Connie’s head). About the closest I’ve physically seen such a crowd was at RFK Stadium on January 22, 1983 where the stadium physically shook with a capacity crowd of 54,000; and I only saw that on TV. What’s all this math in my head – I’m terrible at math.

…..Thank God, the platform didn’t move as passengers disembarked from the train which stretched as far as my now better than eagle’s eyesight could see. All kinds of people from every kind of background – Asians, Africans, Europeans and everything in between – dressed in every imaginable attire and/or lack thereof. Those that were “surprisingly” naked were being given the most elegant silk gowns I think I’ve ever seen. My question of course. “Why are those people naked?” I was later to find that they had died on operating tables, been in some kind of explosion, lost at sea or in some other situation where their physical body had been lost. My stay here was to become a pendulum of such information. The stories were sobering, hysterically funny, cruel, beautiful and downright weird.

…..For all of the crowd gathered, it was incredibly silent. No one was talking out loud, but I heard personal instructions – just for me. As I looked around, I could tell we were all hearing similar communications. There was some sort of music playing, incredibly I recognized it as something I like – it was comforting. I wonder if everyone was hearing what they wanted to hear? More amazement.

…..We were walking towards the building I had at first noticed. As we neared the wall it was transparent. I noticed now that there were no openings, but somehow we knew to just walk through the wall. – Again with the wet stuff! Like the ether that had enveloped us before we left Earth. Still uncomfortable to breath. This time we didn’t fall asleep, instead it was some kind of stimulant. I was more awake than I think I can ever remember. I just knew things and I was in touch with — all of my blood. There is really no accurate way to explain this connection. It is a simple knowing! I KNEW Charles David Sanders, Josiah Cook, Maria Ursula Frantz , Connie … The connection made me a little light headed, flooded my soul and I KNEW each of my relatives that I shared blood with from the beginning of time. I could call them all by name! I looked around to see if they were somehow there – part of the crowd – but no – we were just connected.

…..I could see that some of the people traveling with us were experiencing the same phenomena. Wide eyes, smiles, confusion, and a flood of emotions covered the faces of all.

…..The human family is kind of a set up. I was to find out that we each get someone famous, someone world-impacting, someone who we will be ashamed of, someone notorious and possibly horrible – this is a part of our human test. Can we grow beyond our blood to independence? This is a heavy subject, an iceberg of thought – so we’ll leave this until later. I learned that I was related to a horrible wolf – I cannot even speak his name. Later.

(To be continued . . . in the “Book”)

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BOOK III of III

THE APPROACHING TRIAL — Return to Earth

…..Although many do not believe the stories found in the Book, they are true and a mystery hidden for very good reason. I look forward to seeing all of you who are now reading this. I know everyone who will read this account and I know everyone who will read the final story. Which brings us to the subject of time.

…..Time is relative. For your information, I am not really in Heaven per se; there are many levels of Heaven. I am in a place of learning and privy to all sorts of wondrous information.

…..Time is a gift. It is musical in nature. I know that may be hard to fathom, but it is – somewhat like an accordion. It is folded and when wind passes through it – it plays a sound. Time is also a lot like breathing – it speeds up and slows down. You have probably felt this phenomena but can’t explain it since the clocks you go by continue to run seemingly in concentric measure. You know in your heart right now – that something on Earth is different. That difference is time. Things are speeded up – more challenging – but closer to a final resolution.

…..On the day that the Reckoning came, most were astonished. The simplicity of it all left every human being speechless. For those who had ever thought that they had any control over anything, it was certainly crushing; but for those who had fought for so long for some voice, it was beyond anything ever hoped for. For the small remnant of resistance, it was a nightmare of their own making.

As one of the sages would say . . . “How did it get so late so soon?” -― Dr. Seuss

The End for Now . . .

(To be continued . . . in the “Book”)

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If you are reading this, you are part of the story whether you realize it or not — you are blood or extended blood of those who will make decisions in the next realm . . .

This story will become part of The Other Dimensional Discussion Room film that ZO Magazine is developing. Please read the description of our fictional documentary on the link here and you will understand more.

This story is now being written both in real time and in the spirit world. We are not sure of all of the mechanics at this time — but wanted to share it with you because it seems we are near Book III somewhere (in real time . . . and by this we mean Earth time).

You have nothing more valuable than your imagination — use it wisely!

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“Enjoy your journey as much as you can.” In the end, it will all be just as it is supposed to be!

Prophesy is fascinating and I am sure that most people wonder about the future. I encourage you to investigate, learn and ponder what life is about.

I also encourage you not to be manipulated by the many people who use philosophies, words, and belief systems to pit one person against another. I like what Ziggy Marley sings, “Love is my religion.” In essence, I believe that is the core of everything.

These are the Biblical passages that I mentioned drawing from in the beginning:

Thus says the Lord, who makes a way in the sea And a path through the mighty waters, “Do not remember the former things, Nor consider the things of old. Behold, I will do a new thing, Now it shall spring forth; Shall you not know it? I will even make a road in the wilderness And rivers in the desert. — Isaiah 43:16, 18-19

All Things Made New

Now I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away. Also there was no more sea. . . . there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away. — Revelation 21

. . . I do not want you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning those who have fallen asleep, lest you sorrow as others who have no hope. — 1 Thessalonians 4:13

Matthew 24 | The Parable of the Fig Tree

32 “Now learn this parable from the fig tree: When its branch has already become tender and puts forth leaves, you know that summer is near. 33 So you also, when you see all these things, know that it is near—at the doors! 34 Assuredly, I say to you, this generation will by no means pass away till all these things take place. 35 Heaven and earth will pass away, but My words will by no means pass away.

So teach us to number our days, That we may gain a heart of wisdom.
Psalm 90:12

No One Knows the Day or Hour

36 “But of that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, but My Father only. 37 But as the days of Noah were, so also will the coming of the Son of Man be. 38 For as in the days before the flood, they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day that Noah entered the ark, 39 and did not know until the flood came and took them all away, so also will the coming of the Son of Man be. 40 Then two men will be in the field: one will be taken and the other left. 41 Two women will be grinding at the mill: one will be taken and the other left. 42 Watch therefore, for you do not know what hour your Lord is coming. 43 But know this, that if the master of the house had known what hour the thief would come, he would have watched and not allowed his house to be broken into. 44 Therefore you also be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect.