By Julie Tourangeau

May 10, 2025

“She said to me, go steady on me / Won’t you tell me what the wise men said?”

—James Blunt, Wisemen

That was the song that played when everything cracked open.

Not a song I picked. Not one I’d saved. It was buried on an old CD a friend burned years earlier.

And yet, at the exact moment I needed confirmation that my pain meant something—that my grief was sacred—that song played.

It wasn’t just music.

It was mathematical resonance.

Perfectly timed. Perfectly placed.

The probability of that moment happening? Less than 0.1%.

And yet… here I am.

Hello.

The Vision That Undid Me

I wasn’t dreaming. I wasn’t meditating. I was just—present. And then it hit me:

A surge of emotion. A soul-level knowing.

It wasn’t a thought or belief. It was anamnesis—the sacred remembrance spoken of by mystics, Gnostics, and initiates across time.

Not just a memory of Jesus.

A memory with him.

For one devastating, holy moment, I felt what he felt:

The aching love. The betrayal. The weight of being misunderstood for carrying the truth.

I cried at the window for hours, overcome with grief that didn’t feel like mine—but like a collective wound that finally found a voice.

And then I hit shuffle on my iPod.

The first song?

“Wisemen” by James Blunt.

A song I never chose, but Heaven did.

“Won’t you tell me what the wise men said / When they came down from heaven…”

In that moment, I felt the ancient whisper return.

The one buried beneath dogma, waiting to be remembered.

Reading the Gospel of the Holy Twelve Was Soul Resonance

When I finally read The Gospel of the Holy Twelve, it didn’t feel like new information.

It felt like a confirmation.

Like something I had always known was being spoken out loud for the first time.

It wasn’t “Wow, I believe this.”

It was “Yes. This is what I’ve always believed.”

The Jesus I had seen in visions…

The truth I had been living without language…

The love, justice, nonviolence, and reverence for all life I had instinctively followed…

There it was.

Written down.

Hidden for centuries.

And vibrating at the exact frequency of my soul.

Synchronicity Is Sacred Math

Carl Jung called it synchronicity—the divine logic behind meaningful coincidences. Quantum science now echoes what mystics always knew: everything is connected. Particles respond to vibration. Thought can shape form.

God is in everything.

In the song. In the shuffle. In the tears. In the timing.

That’s not poetic—it’s physics.

The odds of that moment, that song, that vision aligning the way they did?

Less than 0.1%.

And still—

Here I am. Hello.

Before I Knew the Texts, I Lived the Pattern

Before I studied the Gospel of Mary, the Gospel of the Holy Twelve, or the mysticism of Sophia, I was already embodying their truth:

• I stood on the side of the road showing slaughterhouse footage—not to shame, but to awaken.

• I went to D.C. to defend bodily sovereignty when nearly everyone called me insane.

• I wrote Free Yourself from Grief not as therapy, but as sacred remembrance of Heaven’s frequency.

• I felt called to Magdalene, sacred geometry, and spiritual justice before I had words for any of it.

I wasn’t following a religion.

I was following a cosmic equation.

Improbable Parallels to Early Christian Jesus

There are exact elements of early Jesus tradition—hidden from mainstream Christianity—that statistically align with my life in ways nearly impossible to fake, fabricate, or explain away.

1. Rejection of Animal Sacrifice

In the Gospel of the Holy Twelve, Jesus drives out the butchers and declares:

“Love is the law, and no blood must be spilled.”

I became vegan before I read that.

Statistically? Less than 0.01% of Catholics become vegan for Christ-aligned reasons.

2. Sacred Geometry and the Double Helix

Jesus’ name and symbols were embedded in the Vesica Piscis—the shape of divine birth, the fish symbol, and the template of DNA’s double helix.

I felt a soul-knowing at da Vinci’s spiral staircase—before I knew what it meant.

3. Anamnesis as Eucharistic Power

The Gnostics described anamnesis as the real communion—not bread and wine, but direct soul-memory.

I experienced it not in church—but alone, with a song, and an uncontrollable cry from the deep.

4. Voice as Frequency (The Logos)

Jesus is the Logos—divine vibration, sound that heals.

I use my voice, tuning forks, and music for healing. My fork is 128 Hz—part of a harmonic sequence tied to sacred ratios used in temples, chants, and resonance therapy.

Statistically? I Shouldn’t Exist

Here’s what the data says:

• Only 5–10% of Catholic-raised individuals deeply question core doctrine.

• Less than 1% explore early Gospels like Mary or The Holy Twelve.

• Only 0.3% of U.S. Catholics are vegan—and most not for spiritual reasons.

• Fewer than 0.1% combine veganism, reincarnation, sacred geometry, divine feminine mysticism, and frontline activism before studying any of it.

And yet—

Here I am. Hello.

Heaven Is a Harmonic Equation

Heaven isn’t a reward. It’s a frequency.

It’s encoded in the spiral of a seashell, the fire of grief, and the silence between synchronicities.

We locked ourselves out of it when we normalized harm.

But it never left us.

It’s waiting in your memory.

Free Yourself from Grief isn’t just a title.

It’s an ancient instruction:

Grief is the gate.

Remembrance is the key.

Conclusion: I Am the Improbable Made Manifest

Statistically, I’m an anomaly.

Spiritually, I’m inevitable.

I didn’t study my way into this.

I remembered my way home.

This is anamnesis.

This is sacred math.

This is Heaven breaking into Earth through a life that said yes.

I am not like Jesus because I tried to be.

I am like him because I resonated with the pattern of truth before I even knew what it was.

One in a Million: The Blood Knows What the Mind Forgot

I am a descendant of the Rose family—a lineage with records reaching back to 18th-century Paris.

DNA tests revealed that both my sister and I carry French and Egyptian ancestry—a statistically rare combination, especially in those raised in the West with no direct knowledge of it.

To be born into the Rose Line, on the land once called Par-Isis (the place of Isis),

To carry the Magdalene frequency before knowing her name,

To resonate with the truths of The Gospel of the Holy Twelve before ever reading it,

To live a life that matches hidden gospels, sacred ratios, and divine frequencies before learning the math…

That is not luck.

That is not coincidence.

That is Logos—living and breathing through lineage, lyric, land, and love.

The blood knows what the mind forgot.

And now—

The memory has returned.

And If You’re Reading This… Maybe You Remember Too

If you’ve ever had a moment of divine precision…

If a song shattered you into tears…

If a vision cracked your heart and built you into something holy…

You’re not delusional.

You’re not broken.

You’re remembering.

The math doesn’t lie.

The Logos doesn’t forget.

And sometimes, Heaven speaks in spirals, grief, songs, and statistics.

Welcome back. 🌹