By Roy Dawson — Earth Angel, Master Magical Healer
Filed from a Quiet Place at the Edge of the World ????

First, let me say this:

God is not religious.
Man created religion.
God created truth.

That’s what He taught me:
We all walk our own path —
In church or out of church.

We all have choices.
That’s the true key:
Do the best you can with what you’ve been given.
Keep improving.
Become the best version of yourself.

I’m a kind person.
I love seeing people happy, healthy, and successful.
It fills me up to see others win.
But don’t get it twisted —
I’m mentally strong.

In sports, I trained like a madman.
Laughed at pain.
Win or die trying — that was the motto.
I’d run twice a day, sometimes 16 miles.
Push-ups. Sit-ups. Shadow boxing.
No rest for the driven.
No shortcuts for the obsessed.

Even now, I still train —
Mind and body.
Martial arts. Mental focus. Discipline.
I love it.

So when folks lie and talk like I’m some weak man…
I laugh.
If they only knew.

If we were on a battlefield,
You’d want me beside you.

Because I’m not having it.
You drew blood first —
Now it’s on.

I don’t enjoy watching people suffer.
But if you attack mine?
Now ya done.

They came quietly.
Not proud. Not bold.
Heads down. Guilt heavy.
They said they were Satan worshipers.
A cult — if you want to be technical.
They thought they had found something powerful.
Something real.

Now they were in trouble.
Real trouble.
The kind you can’t buy your way out of.

They’d stolen.
Lied.
Played with blood.
Opened doors they couldn’t close.

And now?

They wanted help.

They looked me in the eye and asked:

“What should we do?”

I didn’t preach.
I didn’t scream.
I asked a question instead:

“What’s Satan done for you lately?”

That hit harder than they expected.
No answer.

Because when the storm hits,
He’s nowhere to be found.

He sells you power with one hand
And digs your grave here with the other.

They wanted a fix.
A fast one.
But life doesn’t work like that.

So I gave them something better:
Not judgment.
Not hate.
A prayer — for myself.

Bless them, Lord — and change me.

For You see what I cannot see.
You know the pain, the cause, the root.
You know the soil beneath the fruit.

I told them this:

You don’t have to be right to be redeemed.
You just have to be honest.
And tired of the click here fire you lit yourself.

Some of them laughed.
But a few didn’t.
A few looked like they hadn’t slept in years.
And maybe — just maybe —
One or two heard something louder than the noise.

If you’ve been lied to read more by darkness, here’s the truth:

You don’t need a god who makes deals.
You need a God who makes men new.

Not for revenge.
Not to gloat.
Just to live free — for once.

So what should you do?

Start there.
Ask for grace. Offer grace.

Pray not to crush your enemies —
But to become the kind of person
Who doesn’t need to.

Bless them, Lord — and change me.

That’s the hardest prayer.
And the most dangerous.

Because it’s the one that actually works.

Filed in Fire. Signed in Dust.
By a man who’s seen too much…
And still chooses mercy.