Roy Dawson Earth Angel Master Magical Healer when ask."How Do I Know There Is a God?

Roy Dawson Earth Angel Master Magical Healer when ask."How Do I Know There Is a God?

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"How Do I Know There Is a God?"

You know what I love about writing? No one can interrupt me. As a kid, I had so much to say but was always cut off—misunderstood. People thought they’d heard enough… but later wished they’d let me finish. I meant well. I always did.

In the early mornings in the woods drinking a hot cup of coffee, a man has time to think. Time—though they say it doesn’t exist. They say it’s a spiral. A dream I had said the same. But I’m not here to talk about dreams unless they tell the truth. Sometimes they do.

They ask, “How do you know there is a God?” The same way you know the wind moves the trees. You can’t see the wind. But you hear it. You feel it in your chest, in your ribs when it howls through the cracks. You know the air is there. It fills your lungs. You live because of it.

Same with God.

Men shout loudest that they don’t believe in Him when life is easy. But when the engine cuts out, when the plane is going down and the flames lick at their feet, they don’t cry for science or philosophy. They cry for God. Always have. Always will.

Because deep down, they know.

They’ve known since the start—before the books, before the pulpits, before the churches or temples. They’ve sat under stars and felt something watching. Not judging. Just knowing. Something older than time, stronger than the seas, quieter than silence.

They say we’re just bodies. A collection of cells. But tell me, then, where does love go when the body dies? Where do memories wait? Why do dreams carry you to places you’ve never been and show you people you’ve never met—until one day, you do meet them?

I dreamt of a classroom. But it wasn’t here. It was there—wherever there check here is. They told me time doesn’t exist. That we bend it, walk through it, heal across it. That we can live in 2225 and 1925 in the same breath. That we read more carry pain from places we haven’t been born into yet. That maybe the future aches inside us before it ever arrives.

I read more woke up and believed them.

You don’t have to see a thing to know it’s real. That’s what faith is. It’s not weakness. It’s knowing what your bones already whisper to you more info when the world is quiet. That there is more. That there has to be.

Maybe you don’t believe in God. That’s fine. He still believes in you. Maybe you curse Him. Maybe you don’t speak His name unless it’s in desperation. But He hears it, every time.

They say the universe is vast. I believe that. But I also believe it's not empty. There’s meaning tucked between the stars. There’s structure behind the chaos. There’s poetry in the dust.

So I don’t need proof. I’ve seen enough. In the blood-red sun over the mountains. In a child’s laugh. In the final breath of a dying man who smiles like he’s seen home.

That’s how I know.

"Thanks so much for asking that question — it really means a lot. It's not always easy to express certain things, but being asked gives me the space to reflect and share in a meaningful way. I appreciate your interest and the opportunity get more info to be heard." Love Roy