Why do you seem so happy?
Have you found treasure? Nothing less could make you look so happy. I would participate in your joy.
This is such a beautiful place! I am enchanted! I am delighted!
Can it be possible that I can always live here?
When I occupied a coarse body, a shell in which the spirit moved, I was unaccustomed to such a place. My fingers ached with toil―my heart was oppressed with sorrow―my limbs often refused to do their painful duties, and my spirit seemed bowed down to the dust. They told me I was a sinner―I had turned my back on God―I had broken his commands, even to satisfy the cravings of hunger. I longed to live because I dared not die. How dark―how very dark the future seemed! Finally, worn out with disease and long-suffering, my heart weary and heavy-laden, I laid down my earthly body.
When I awoke, a beautiful being came and took me by the hand. This angel led me from the earth and put me on the road through that gate. And when I entered it, what a beautiful place I found it!
I cannot, cannot describe my happiness!
Such beautiful-looking people! Everything here dazzles my eyes with ecstatic beauty and splendour. The very ground I tread on yields to my touch.
And how beautiful and green the grass appears―the leaves, they wave so gently in the wind. The air seems to fill me with such intense joy that I could soar as a bird in the air. What a lovely place this is!
I see such broad and shining rivers, moon and sun, but so much brighter than I ever saw on earth. How strange it all seems!
The very stars seem to smile as they twinkle, and music fills the air wherever I turn my ear.
How I wish to go back and tell the world of this lovely place! My friends would not believe me.
It is more heaven than I ever dreamed of―more than I could ever conceive.
What is the nature and condition of the future life into which you pass after death?
Look directly to this end, furnish a mass of evidence for study and determine what the reality beyond death is.
With this motivation in mind, the writer began to examine books whose spirit authors sought to describe their experiences in the spirit world and the conditions of life in that world.
The writer reasoned―all things considered, who better to learn from than the disembodied themselves?
Besides, the writer was positive that she would find shared tenets in these spirit communications, and only individual narratives would vary, for all experience is relative.
Do the dead still live?
The dead feel nothing―they turn to dust―they moulder to decay and all is gone―they have no consciousness of anything unless the soul of the dead still lives even though the body decays.
I had said I would face death when it came with the courage of those who know only that for them, it must mean total extinction, for if these priests were wrong, who was right?
Who could tell us anything of the future―or if there were any God at all?
Not the living, for they theorise and guess, and not the dead, for none came back from them to tell. But I am here, make no mistake!
And if this will allow you to see how you stand to the sphere of existence to which you are tending―if it will show you how you may enjoy heaven on earth, which is only a prelude to the actual state, which you must know and conceive for yourself, the writer will have achieved her task.
How can I fail to heed the call in the cause of truth and freedom?
And is the picture of life beyond the grave so unnatural?
Out of death arises life.
Spiritual Prozac presents an all-inclusive and extensive testimony of life after death, and attests to the importance and integrity of the communications received from spirit authors over many decades.
There are untold treasures in store for the earnest and sincere inquirer and honest seeker after the truth. And is not the enjoyment of this light richly worth seeking for?
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