Experiences Never Stop: Part 2

By Rebecca Walters Hopkins

Do you question what takes place when your loved ones die? Do they see you, and show you signs? How do they feel? Are they happy? Are pets in heaven?

I share my intimate experiences with you, to help you understand and become more aware in order for your soul to grow. Are you living life to the fullest? Do you need to change your life and don’t know how to begin?

This book teaches you lessons from heaven and how mighty prayer is. God is powerful and has chosen me to write these details to help you. This book will not disappoint. I disclose in the writings of my knowledge of the lessons I learned and how it has transformed my life for the better. I reveal twenty-three dream visits from loved ones and from spirits I do not know. I explain why they contact me. The afterlife is complex and for eternity. I point out how evil influences individuals and how God always prevails in his power and glory. Through my gifts of empathy and mediumship, I divulge many secrets from the other side. Enjoy!

Experiences Never Stop Part 3 by Rebecca Walters Hopkins coming soon!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Apr 22, 2021
• ISBN: 9781982267476

Rebecca Walters Hopkins

She has an extraordinary gift granted to her from God. She is clairaudient and hears from God repeatedly. Her spirit guides and her father guide her daily from heaven. This is her fourth book, and she uses her gifts of empathy and mediumship to help others understand lessons from God. She shares how prayer changes her life and will help you grow. The experiences continue.

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Copyright © 2021 Rebecca Walters Hopkins.

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The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

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Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations are from The Holy Bible, English Standard Version® (ESV®). Copyright ©2001 by Crossway Bibles, a division of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-9822-6746-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-6748-3 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-6747-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021907673

Balboa Press rev. date: 04/20/2021

Contents

Acknowledgements

A Message For The Reader

Experiences Never Stop Part 2

References

Disclaimer

Acknowledgements

I thank God, my guides, and my father for them protecting, guiding me from heaven every day.

I would like to thank my beloved husband, Michael. He is my rock, and I could not have finished this book without his unwavering love and guidance.

I thank Alan for listening and understanding the difficulties I faced. His advice, support, and love helped me immensely.

I would like to thank Tammy for her friendship, love, and support in helping me during many tough times I endured.

I thank Jessica for always being there for me. Encouraging me to continue no matter what.

I thank all my friends who have shown support and love, especially Jim, Vicky, Gloria, Dana, Tracy, Katie, and Kristen.

I appreciate all the love and understanding I received from each of you. Your love and kindness aided me in my writing.

Love,

Rebecca

A Message For The Reader

- Experiences Never Stop Part 2 is my accurate accounts from the other side starting July 7, 2019 through March 13, 2020. The experiences continue…

- These experiences listed by the dates they happen because I want you to understand how it randomly happens to me.

- I share detailed encounters how I receive information from God, my spirit guides, and my father.

- I explain what I hear from God, and what God wants you to know.

- I disclose what darkness looks like and feels like. I give detailed descriptions of spirits I have seen in darkness. Not all spirits I saw are in heaven. God explains why.

- I also reveal why I was reincarnated and what my purpose is in this life.

- I divulge the twenty-three dream visits I encountered with spirits.

- I explain what it is like being an empath and a medium and how it affects me during these incidents.

- My gift given to me from God is to help you understand God and evil are real.

- The purpose of authoring this book is to help you understand why this information is important.

- I placed my thoughts and feelings in quotes.

- When I heard from God, I italicized God’s words. I want you to distinguish exactly what God has stated anywhere in this book.

- God taught me incredible, valuable lessons and gave me the information to author this book to help you and others.

Sincerely,

Rebecca Walters Hopkins

Experiences Never Stop Part 2

July 7, 2019

A sweltering summer night in West End, North Carolina, I finished writing my second book, Experiences Never Stop, by Rebecca Walters Hopkins. I enjoyed dinner alone and heard a new song from Ilene, Unwritten, by Natasha Bedingfield. The music sounded faint. I tuned in and listened.

Ilene instructed, Today is where your book begins. The rest is still unwritten.

I laughed and addressed my spirit guide, Ilene, Well, it doesn’t get any clearer than that. I will start here.

(Ilene Fitzgerald lived in Ireland in 1589 and has been my spirit guide since birth. I observed her during meditation. Ilene fancied to ride horses when she could. She was a stunning woman with creamy white skin, extensive reddish dark-brown hair, and dainty hands. She loved living at the Ross Castle when she lived before. Ilene communicates with me by playing music before she speaks. Ilene is with God and protects me every day.)

(I am fifty, green-blue eyes, petite, strong-minded, and have long, wavy blondish-brown hair. I am clairaudient, an empath, a medium, an author, a wife and salon owner.)

July 10, 2019

I tried to find a picture of the belt I noticed God wearing when he revealed himself to me. I searched for hours, determined to locate the Greek pattern I saw God wearing. I examined Greek symbols, and nothing was what I had in my mind’s eye.

I stared at God, and his gold belt on June 13, 2019, and discussed this in my book, Experiences Never Stop, by Rebecca Walters Hopkins. He was thin, not fat, and he had a thin light-brown beard. The beard hair was short and close to his oval face. God was draped with a light-blue cloth, the color of the sky covering his head that fell to his feet. He wore a long, thin, gold chain around his waist that dangled to the floor. The chain looked like a Greek boxed pattern. It appeared extremely delicate, thin, fragile-looking chain. God lightly, gently, smiled at me, and I saw his eyes, they were kind and blue. His hands were crossed in front of him.

I shared with my husband; I could not find the belt. He suggested searching for Greek goldsmiths. (My husband is an excellent baker. He is in his fifties, Italian, brown eyes and has dark wavy hair. He is handsome, loving, kind, smart, funny, and my best friend.)

He turned and commented, I believe someone made the belt for God.

I started my new search and boom, I found it. On God’s waist, I saw a delicate belt made of gold. The belt looked fragile, a rectangle in fashion, a Greek style. A backward S shape inside of a rectangle, connected but open. I located a Greek gold wedding ring on the internet. The pattern looked just like God’s belt.

I read the pattern symbolized the eternal flow of things, is the symbol of eternal life, eternal love. I felt in awe. I found the design in a ring when I saw God. His vivid aura shone, and his powerful presence looked magnificent to see. How honored I felt and what an incredible experience, to see God in all his glory. I asked God to be with me that morning, and he was.

I heard music from dad, Don’t Speak, by No Doubt. (My dad is not a guide, but God allows me to hear from him. He died on March 13, 2012. He was a lovely, caring, and hardworking man, and loved to joke. He had dark brown wavy hair and blue eyes. My father was short of 5 foot 6 inches tall. God appointed my father to help me write these things for you. It is the reason I hear from him often. He plays mostly gospel music, then talks.)

He beamed, God is excited you found a picture of his belt. That is correct, Beck. (Dad called me Beck, not Rebecca all my life.)

I inquired, Did I hear that correctly?

Ilene confirmed, Yes, that is God’s belt. He wears it often. You must tell people the exact detail of it.

I asked, In the book I am editing?

Ilene affirmed, No, in the next book. Book 3.

Dan elated, and added, It is pure gold. He is wearing it now. God is happy. You found a reference, a picture of the pattern. God is pleased. (Dan is my second spirit guide. We dated over thirty years ago. He died at the age of twenty-four on October 23, 1988. He was adventurous, yearned to have fun and party. Dan was six feet four inches tall, sandy blonde hair, blue eyes and always smiled. He experienced new quests and loved the music from the 70s and the 80s. His death changed my life. It felt fabulous to know Dan is my guide now.)

This mesmerized me. I found out all these things from my guides and my father. I knew when I spotted it. This was correct. God’s belt appeared ½ inch wide, thin, pure gold. It amazed me when I saw it around God’s waist. The belt glistened on his body. I obsessed with finding it, and I had. I stared at the picture I found, comparing the photo to my memory. This was it.

9:23 p.m. I heard Don’t Speak, song by No Doubt. Dad announced, God is pleased with your work. You must continue.

I asked dad, What is the name of Book 3?

Dad coached, You’re not ready yet. You will know soon.

July 17, 2019

Dream One: The dream continued for most of the night after I had gone to bed on the 16th of July. I woke several times and drifted to sleep and continued to dream more about Susan Brink.

I mentioned her, my client, in my last book, Experiences Never Stop.

She gave her home to me in the dream after she died. The individuals did not want me to own her home. These two women, Susan’s family, spoke ugly to me. They demanded I return their house back to them. I saw myself inside Susan’s residence. She had tons of money. The home looked old, built in the 1940s. Masses of wooden furniture remained in the household. The closer I studied the valuable antique furniture. I spotted an antique phone placed on top of the desk and a vast bed when I wandered upstairs. I knew this was where Susan and her husband used to sleep. The king-size bed looked enormous. It had layers and layers of soft blankets. Me and my husband sought to figure out how we would sleep on the bed.

The huge bed disheveled. We struggled to smooth out the blankets to make it perfect and wondered where Noodle, our schnoodle would sleep. (Noodle weighs about twenty pounds. She has light gray curly hair, lovely small brown eyes, floppy ears, and a pom-pom tail like a poodle. She is our beloved, furry friend.)

I fluffed the blanket and saw a black, square brush with no handle inside the blanket. The square brush had short boar’s hair bristles, and a shiny lacquered back. A brush for a man to hold in his palm. I saw a compact which held his reading glasses and a place for his brush. I felt it was her spouse’s things. He wasn’t there. I sensed evil in the dwelling, lurking and watching everything.

I panicked, I would never sleep here. I realized I did not have my sage with me and nothing to protect me. I needed to leave and knew the home had malicious spirits in it.

These two women earlier in the dream came back to reclaim the home. They were Susan’s family. One lady stood inside the residence.

She looked disgruntled and shrieked, I can’t believe she gave you this house. I am her niece. It should be mine. I am not giving up and I will take it from you.

I muttered, Well, Susan was my first client, and I have been doing her hair since 1987. She loved me more than she loved you. She gave me the house and I am keeping it.

I glanced around. I realized there wasn’t a lot in this residence, just a bunch of outdated furniture. I left and walked home. I glanced at my dog; however, it was not my current dog, Noodle. I put a King Charles spaniel puppy with black and white furry legs, brown in the eyebrows inside the house. I shut the front door of my residence, and I raced back to Susan’s home. I approached her home. It felt balmy and looked beautiful outside while I walked in the grass. I peeked down and examined my feet, stepping on the soft green grass.

I saw the puppy running toward me. Worried, How did you get out of the house?

The spaniel dog wanted to go with me, to protect me. I wrapped a soft gray-blue blanket around her and held her in my arms like a baby close to my ear and chest. I picked up my long-stemmed glass of red wine from the grass. I stepped up to the entrance of Susan’s house. I glanced down. No one had opened the door in a while. I saw no footprints on the ground. I looked closer and saw three inches of gray ash in front of the door. It looked like snow, although I sensed it was ashes.

I thought, Well, I am going inside.

I reached up for the doorknob. It looked like a regular, simple, round, gold doorknob. The metal door looked of a steel gray-color, covered in ashes, and unlocked. I opened the gray, metal door, and there stood a woman. Her face appeared unpleasant. She had medium-length, blonde hair; forty years old. She wore an evil grin and smirked at me. I realized she stood beside Susan and they both sneered at me. Panicked, I slammed the door shut. Somehow, I saw the woman’s face emerge through the closed door.

The woman snarled and teased, "Don’t you want to come in?"

I wanted to go in. I carried the dog inside with me. The dwelling looked unfamiliar than when I arrived there earlier. It appeared smaller and wasn’t open and airy like before. It confused me. I watched Susan staring at me. She looked forty years old too. It surprised her to see me. She wore textured gray pants made of wool and a beige knit top. The outfit showed off her figure. Her hair appeared short and lumpy with blonde, gray, shades of light brown in it. Her eyes bulged, dangled out of the sockets. It was her. I recognized her voice. She looked disturbing. She appeared okay, however, looked disfigured. I placed my arm through her arm as she escorted me around her home.

As we strolled together, I thought, You are doing good, you can walk now.

She could not walk before she died. Susan boasted, I can walk down the stairs now.

We walked up the stairs. She removed her arm from mine. We sat down at a table. She sat across from me in a wooden chair at a round wooden table. Then scooted away from the table. Susan unzipped her pants. She pulled them down and exposed her private area. It looked black, burned, and mangled. Her privates looked absolutely disgusting. She appeared to have a penis, but it wasn’t a penis. It looked like the shape of one. She pointed to the bottom of where a penis would attach to the body. I recalled Susan loved sex from our past conversations when she lived.

She sighed, This is where they put the catheter in.

She stuffed the revolting flesh back into her pants and zipped up like nothing had happened. We continued our walk.

I shivered, Wow, how repulsive. Her privates, black and mangled. It did not even look human, ghastly.

We wandered around more in just a few compact rooms. I saw her teeny bed. It wasn’t luxurious, and it didn’t look expensive. The bed appeared shaker style and of mediocre quality. The bed had no fluffy blankets, no layers of elegance. Just a square, hard bed, twin. The bedspreads looked thin, bare, and did not go to the floor. I noticed a shoddy wooden oak dresser about five feet tall and five feet wide; square with many small drawers. Someone wrote words on a piece of paper taped on the top right corner of the drawer. I sauntered over to read it. They left it to someone else, it wasn’t even hers. All the few objects she had. She seemed proud of. She must log the items she had to give away on the dusty pages in a book. She gave everything away repeatedly, forever. She kept nothing. She did this every day, logged the items in the book and gave them away. I saw in the book where she had written. Pansies planted in her yard in a sketch.

I thought, Wow, you have nothing if you have to give away pansies. Who wants to dig up pansies?

But she thought the flowers were important. We sat at the round table again and discussed these matters. I stared at her, eyes bulging, hanging out of her head. Her hair looked lumpy and different colors. She appeared unsettling to look at. When she lived, she hated her hair being lumpy. She liked it short and did not like the gray. She liked her hair to be one color, blonde. I told her about the brush I found in the bed earlier. It was her husband’s. Her face looked astonished and distressed.

She sighed, He had a brush.

I asked, Was it a small, lacquered brush inside a compact holder? It held reading glasses and the other side for the brush? She seemed confused and didn’t remember.

She moaned, He had a brush. Susan changed the subject and studied the dog in my arms.

Susan asked in a pretentious voice, Awe… is this your dog? and reached for it. The dog sat close to me, wrapped up in the gray-blue blanket. The dog did not want her to touch her and moved away.

I confirmed, Yes. I turned in my chair away from her. Then she didn’t want to talk about it anymore. I knew her partner was not there. She left to finish writing the few things she could not keep.

I roamed around this place. I saw other people there. These individuals came to her house to collect her furniture, except they’re not the two women I met earlier. I noticed other people there, ill-fated women, hopeless teenagers too. The people looked doomed and miserable. They roamed the hallways like they had nowhere to go. They felt like lost souls.

I entered a unique pink room. The entire place from top to bottom looked pink. I noticed pink velvet carpet installed wrong in the room. It needed stretching to remove the lumps. I discovered two pink wing-back chairs in front of a fireplace with a fire roaring inside. There were two young children in pink dresses playing on the floor in front of the pink wing-back chairs. They looked desolate. I looked in the opposite direction from where the children in the pink dresses were. I looked at many chandeliers on one wall, like in a department store. No one could touch the chandeliers, which made no sense. These individuals could not walk over where the chandeliers hung on the wall. They could only look at them. The room looked enormous, and they pushed everything into a tiny corner in front of the fireplace. Evil prohibited them from using the entire room. They could only play in the teeny corner.

A youthful man in his late twenties walked by me. He could not understand and bellowed, I HATE this room. Where are the leather chairs? Why can’t we just have leather chairs? I HATE pink. Why does everything have to be pink? I HATE this room.

I stepped into a long corridor with black, red walls where the elevators were. I struggled to figure out how to get out of this horrible place. I felt frightened. I was not at Susan’s home anymore. There were unhappy people in the dark red hallway. Evil crammed these doomed people in the small, long, rectangular hallway. I saw women and men of all ages, teenagers too. I noticed over fifty people jam-packed in this long hallway with black, shiny, red walls. They seemed to wait for their turn on the elevator. They did strange things. One young man in his twenties had bleached his hair and had a relaxer on top of the bleach. He ate the relaxer off his finger. He wiped the relaxer off his hairline with his finger and put it in his mouth. Relaxer was toxic; it smelled horrid. You did not eat it. He seemed to enjoy eating the relaxer in his boredom. It disgusted me. I must escape these doomed, troubled, unhappy people. They seemed vile and looked repulsive. I felt trapped with them.

I freaked when I realized God was not here. Everything here felt negative, and I sensed evil watched me. I felt evil there, hovering over me. God was not in Susan’s home either. I looked frantically, searching for anything, crosses, symbols of God. Nothing.

Rattled, I thought, I must get out of this horrible, terrifying place.

I recalled Susan did not believe in God, nor did her husband, and they weren’t together. Both dead now, and I felt sad for them.

Petrified, I panicked and thought, "Where am I? This place is frightening, and I need to get out of here."

I ended up in an unfamiliar room near the black, red hallway and saw sheet music amassed on the floor. The music titled Silent Night, hymns for a church play. Susan liked to gather people for events when she lived.

I wondered, Why is this on the floor, it seems disrespectful.

Stacked sheets of music. The information you handed out to people when they arrived at the event. I glanced again at the old sheets of music piled on the floor. It felt inappropriate and placed there on purpose. I heard Susan again. She entered the room. She smiled with her eyes dangling out of her head.

She moaned, You are an angel. I sent you a gift one time that had an angel on the front of it, on the package.

I recalled, You did always give me a gift, sometimes at Christmas. Packaged in pretty bows and glitter. I do not recall you giving me a package with an angel on it.

I walked down another hallway that led me to a map of this place. Like a large-scale sign placed in a mall to help you understand where you were. The map showed me which direction to get out of there. I felt relief. I woke at 7:00 a.m.

OMG… shocked. I asked Ilene, Was it Susan Brink?

Ilene confirmed, Yes, Rebecca, she is in darkness. She did not believe in God.

I freaked out and blurted, "WHAT? I have been in darkness. Hell, as some call it… Susan is in darkness?"

It was a lot for me to grasp. I knew Ilene protected me the whole time. Susan missed her husband so much after he died. She mentioned it often at the salon. He wasn’t there. She knew no one there. She was alone, disfigured, and repeating the same tasks in two rooms… for eternity. She must give everything away and she had nothing. The place felt dreadful and full of torment. Evil observed the entire time and relished each moment of tormenting them all. I knew they must do the same thing every day, forever. What I witnessed was distressing. My heart pounded as I laid in bed, horrified by what I saw and felt. I knew what darkness… looked like.

Darkness wasn’t loving, kind, beautiful, and full of endless love; like my father told me, heaven was like. She looked horrendous. The place felt of evil lurking everywhere, watching. It appeared dark, old, creepy, tainted, vile, full of misery and doom. Darkness was the opposite of joy. Susan had two rooms to roam in forever. All the things she admired; material things she didn’t have either. I saw the hard-twin bed, dresser, and what clothes she wore, that was all. Susan kept nothing. She must give them away and log them in a book with the gray pages for eternity. Her privates disfigured, burned, and mangled. Susan, confused, thought she had a great deal. She recognized me and wasn’t glad I was there. I realized she never cared about me. I cared about her. Wow. I knew her for over thirty years.

I thought, Thank God, I knew I would not be going there. I believe in God. I did not want to see or feel this place again. Nor did I want to even think about it anymore either.

Evil hovered there, lurking, hiding, watching, waiting, just like I sensed in the haunted house in Florida. Evil relished watching her disfigured and all the other people there tormented. I felt it. I heard the song The First Noel by Pentatonix. The song I heard I felt Ilene protected me from what I had seen on that plane. Wow. After I logged this horrible dream in my journal… I had a late start for the salon that morning. I stepped out of the shower and I thought about the dream and my master guide popped in. (My master guide is an angel. He sounds masculine, but firm and gentle. I always hear the Shout, by Tears for Fears song before he speaks. My master guide is with God, and he has told me that God addresses him directly. He teaches my other guides what to do to help me.)

I heard the Shout, song. He announced, God will speak to you in a few days, prepare the house.

I gasped, I am glad, and I can’t wait to hear what God will tell me.

I wrote what my master guide announced in my journal and finished getting ready for work. Dad played Blessed Assurance, song by Frances J. Crosby. Dad stated, God will speak to you in a few days. Prepare the house. I heard music from Ilene, Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield, and Deep and Wide, song. It was children’s hymn.

When my guides or my father told me to prepare the house. I prepared the house by burning sage and frankincense throughout the house. Sage cleansed the space, and frankincense purified it. My guides told me to do this several days in a row before God spoke.

July 18, 2019

I worked at the salon. I started my 4:00 facial appointment. During the facial service I heard the Shout, song. It was my master guide. He declared, You must prepare the house. God will speak to you soon.

A few moments later, dad popped in and played Blessed Assurance. He affirmed, God will speak to you on Monday.

I left work and arrived at home. I felt exhausted after a prolonged day at the salon. I burned sage and frankincense and prepared the house. After I prepared the dwelling. I wrote into my journal what happened at the salon. I heard music from my master guide, he announced, God is pleased with my preparations and you must be ready when he comes.

Me and Noodle relaxed in the room after dinner.

(The room is our guest bedroom. It is a 12×12 room. It is small, quiet, and cozy. The white leather futon bed has a feather bed on top with lots of furry blankets and pillows. It feels like a nest. My husband, Noodle, and I love spending time in this bedroom more than any other room in the house. I meditate and relax here. God speaks to me in this room while I meditate. Noodle loves this room. My husband naps in here daily. It is a joke between us. We call the bedroom; the room.)

I heard music from my guides off and on for days about my spouse. They reminded me to work on how I communicated with him.

(I was Octavian Augustus in a past life. I discuss this in my book Living Life as an Empath and Medium, by Rebecca Walters Hopkins. My controlling, overbearing tendencies came out occasionally. I learned this behavior did not help my relationship with my husband. I asked my guides to remind me when I needed to know this behavior happened.)

I laid there, I wondered how he felt in the adjacent room. Then I realized, Why don’t I just ask, Ilene.

I asked her, Can you play a song that represents how my husband feels right now?

Ilene played a new tune, Stand By Me, by Ben E. King. It surprised me. Things felt much better between us. We communicated better too. We both had busy schedules. We both knew flexibility in our relationship was important. I searched for the lyrics on Google and walked into the living room where my spouse sat on the couch watching TV. I mounted his lap and whispered, You understand, I will always, be right beside you, no matter what. Right?

He held me tight and responded, Yes, I do. I gave him a kiss and returned to the room where Noodle waited. I smiled and thanked Ilene for her help. My mind overloaded by music from guides, dad, thoughts, work, writing, feelings from outside stimulation of TV, the