Good question. First, I believe no person resurrected to resume a life in the flesh on earth returns with soul and spirit, whether the old "dead to God" spirit is rebirthed or not. That "person" returns, like Lazarus did. If I were to be lost and died visiting Israel and had opportunity to be buried in Elisha's tomb, touching his bones, I might be resurrected, and I would expect to pick up where I left off spiritually, having my old mind too.
When the saints arose from their graves around Jerusalem, visiting in town, I would conclude relatives recognized them as returned, though not glorified.
The saints in Paradise could not have been alive there and in a glorified body, their bodies still in graves (except the two witnesses of Revelation, probably Enoch and Elijah, who owe the first death), so I would say their soul and spirit were there waiting to join their bodies. Perhaps Jesus led souls-spirits to Heaven, to be returned for the resurrection of all the dead in Christ, excluding those still alive when Jesus returns.
So for now many bodies in graves await their resurrection, into glory body, soul and spirit, and in the very last of several resurrections, many to judgment without Christ in them.
One last item I've meditated several hours now is whether resurrection is the same as being raised. The instances of people in the Bible being brought back alive who were not buried are very different from raising from the grave, especially among Jews. I've been to a Jewish funeral, told before attending that they believe the departed's soul is wandering three days while family members have time to arrive. It's one of those things I wouldn't argue among them. They have several variations about that. I do have a little personal testimony about that being raised from death apart from being buried.
I was late returning home from work 20 years ago, getting home about midnight, family asleep. I was 5 hours past time to resume take a new combination of blood pressure meds that later it was discovered interracted with something else. I laid on a couch still in uniform, waking up barking like a puppy, dreaming I was in a bag of puppies being tossed into a river, drowning. I tried to say "Jesus", but couldn't get breath, but could "bark". I crawled back to my pickup, and drove myself coming and going with a "heart block". I continued until seeing a hospital sign, then pulled up to the ER, leaving the door open in in drive. Somebody stopped it somehow while I stumbled inside. I collapsed in the ER without being able to tell them anything. I woke up in an exam room to see a nurse atop me doing CPR. I saw the scope with a flat line, beeping. A cart was shoved in with a defibrillator just about the time a second nurse just couldn't keep doing CPR. They were exhausted. They had run my ID and called my wife, who came in behind the cart. I felt myself slide out through my feet into the air, and knew I was very cold. A nurse put a nitro pill under my tongue. I was an overall bruise color all over. Another nitro. My body bounced each time they set the defibrillator off, but the scope still showed flat. O 2 is 8, get me O. They put a mask on me. My wife was pleading to me and God.
I realized I was hovering above the scene after 35 minutes of defibrillator jolts and other treatments, like a big needle plunged into my heart. As the team began to leave the room, my wife begged me to come back. I really didn't want to do that, seeing what looked like a hopeless body. I thought or said "I just can't decide. Can I stay or can I go on with you, Lord." My wife prayed again, crying, then getting bold, then crying. I couldn't let her go through that. I made a decision, so slid back in the way I left. Right then the scope came alive, and the team came back in. They told my wife I was back. A surgeon told me I needed a pacemaker, as the "spark plug" anode on one side of my heart was damaged. I nodded "Yes", and woke up in ICU.
That week in the hospital resulted in many nurses, doctors, and others amazed and confounded that I could recount everything that happened, though dead. My story resulted in numerous confessions of faith, "re dedications", the Catholic hospital nuns and priests interviewing me, other patients wanting prayer or just wanting to hear about the miracle for themselves, lawyers visiting too on my last day. I was raised from the dead not from what medical science did, for they had given up. It was the Lord letting me return in my full mind and a lot stronger spiritually. They told me my eyesight would probably be permanently affected due to lack of blood to the retinas, but they returned to perfect vision the next day! The meds changed too when the whole team got involved in that decision.
It was that week when I began seriously treating my body with healthy habits, losing lots of fat, running A1C from 16 down to 5.5 in a year, keeping that temple of the Holy Spirit clean as I knew how, returning to work in two weeks after discharge, and taking dietary classes, and working out, and sharing a very welcome fresh testimony to many.
