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@ nighthawk
2025-04-29 23:27:21
A year ago, I was in a place I never thought I’d be—numb, hollow, and questioning whether life was worth continuing. From the outside, I had the titles that earned respect: veteran, cop, leader. But inside, I felt like a ghost wearing a name tag. Every conversation reminded me of it.
“Hey, I’m Matt.”
“Oh yeah? What do you do?”
“I was in the military. Now I’m a cop.”
“Damn, that’s badass. Ever shoot anyone?”
And just like that, I’d disappear behind the label again.
That version of me—he was hanging on by a thread. Until one moment changed everything. I sat in ceremony with Ayahuasca and was brought face to face with something I had long forgotten: God. Love. Life itself.
And in that space, I heard something deep, ancient, and undeniably true:
Health comes from everlasting faith in Jesus Christ.
Happiness comes from driven purpose.
Not fame. Not medals. Not titles. Just… purpose.
And sometimes, that purpose is quiet. Gentle. Unseen by most.
Like growing plants.
Like tending to mushrooms.
Like raising medicine from the soil with your own two hands.
That’s where I found myself again. Not on the streets in uniform. Not in stories of violence or valor. But in the dirt. In the soft light of a grow tent. In the fragile beauty of something small, alive, and healing.
I realized I wasn’t just supposed to serve—I was meant to heal. To grow. To help other warriors find their way out of the darkness and into something far more powerful than pride: peace.
Now I still wear the badge. But I carry something deeper:
A calling to care for my brothers and sisters.
A purpose to grow and give back.
A mission to remind you: You’re not broken. You’re becoming.
So if you’re struggling—if the labels don’t fit, if the noise is too loud, if the silence is worse—come back to the soil. Plant something. Talk to God. Remember who you are.
You are not alone. You are needed. You are healing.