“The Inheritance Was Yours And It Still Is.”

“The Inheritance Was Yours, Dammit. And It Still Is.”

By Roy Dawson – Earth Angel, Master Magical Healer
Nothing is hidden. God sees everything.

Let me tell you something, and hear me well: God sees everything. Nothing is hidden.
Not the deals made in courtrooms.
Not the lies written in ink.
Not the hands that reached out to steal what wasn’t theirs.

And when God sits you down—and He will—it happens faster than flipping a light switch. You sit down, and suddenly you realize He knows everything. Every dirty deal. Every crooked document. Every little theft that thought it was safe in the dark.

And you can’t lie to Him.

You see, that changes a man. It changed me.

And that’s why I’m called to speak this truth. Some folks get nervous when I say these things, and I understand why. They get quiet. Because they know I’m not lying. They know I’ve seen the truth. And they know what’s coming for them.

The old man died.

He left his money, his land, his house, his business—his life’s work—to someone he trusted. Maybe it was his niece. Maybe it was the neighbor who checked on him every day. Maybe it was the man at the gas station who treated him with dignity when nobody else did.

Point is: he chose.

He made his decision.
That was his right.
And that should’ve been the end of it.

But oh no, not in this world. Because when a man dies, the vultures come.

And nowadays, they don’t circle overhead. They wear suits. Some of them wear robes. They speak softly, but their intentions are sharp. They come with smiles and titles. They say words like “invalid,” “undue influence,” “unfit,” “incompetent.”

But they’re not judges.
They’re not family.
They’re thieves.

Make no mistake.

Now if you’re a judge, a lawyer, an executor, a trustee—you’ve been handed more than paper. You’ve been handed trust.

That key to the safe?
That wasn’t just metal.
That was a man’s voice from beyond the grave, saying:

“I want this to go to them. I trust them.”

And what did you do?

You let a second cousin slide in with a story.
You handed the house to a relative who hadn’t shown up in years.
You let the will be twisted like a wet rag until nothing left made sense.

You let the dead be robbed.

Now listen—if a person leaves you their inheritance, whether you’re a saint or a screw-up, it’s yours.

I don’t care if you’re a drunk.
I don’t care if you’re not blood.
I don’t care if society thinks you’re “unfit.”

If the one who passed chose you, then that’s the end of the discussion.

You were chosen.
You were trusted.
You were seen.

And that means something in this world—even if the courts forgot it.

But today we see the opposite.

We see lawyers say, “It’s not legal.”
We see family members say, “It’s not fair.”
And we see judges say, “Well, let’s look at this again…”

Let me tell you something plain and simple:

“Fair” is what liars say when they can’t say “legal.”
And “legal” is what cowards say when they don’t want to say “right.”
And God don’t care about your fancy degrees if you’re selling lies in His courtroom.

This is not just about money.

This is about the soul of a dying man, and whether his voice still matters once he’s gone.

It’s about the black sheep who showed up every Sunday and fixed his uncle’s broken porch.
It’s about the addict who, even in his lowest days, made sure his friend didn’t die alone.
It’s about the forgotten ones—the ones society called unworthy—who turned out to be the only ones worthy of trust.

And if you steal from them? If you lie under oath? If you doctor the documents?

Keep talking.
Keep filing motions.
Keep telling yourself it’s “just probate.”

Because God sees you.

And justice has bad aim sometimes, but it never loses its target forever.

So I say this for the ones holding the line:

Don’t you dare back down.
Don’t you let the whispers win.
Don’t you forget—the inheritance was yours. Dammit, it still is.

And to the ones who took it?

Start praying.
Because jail is the least of what you’ve got coming.

Let me know if you’d like this formatted for a spoken word reading, video narration, court statement, or printed declaration.

And remember what I used to tell the maintenance guys I trained:

“Don’t over-tighten it. One cinch is enough.”

Because too much pressure? That’s how things break.
And mark my words—justice is about to break something wide open.