Want to know whom I AM - Don? Really read what's written here

Don Bradley 9-16-26 

My surf spot, Fariah Beach. This is not about surfing. It's much deeper than that. For you skim readers.

You know...try and LIVE the Holy Word once in awhile. Love your enemies as yourselves. Try it. You'll live a great deal better as a soul than you ever did. Unless they are there to kill you. Then be ready, because that does happen.

My best friend is coven and was once upon a time, SALOME. Let that one roll around in your noggin. Now, can you love your killer? Can you? 

Burning down my surf spot during the Thomas fire. THANKS!

Want to really know who I am? Read this section. So many of you just skim these articles, data mining or simply uninterested. I understand. You treat your life the same way.

Our CHURCH. The real thing. Our Father is NOT found in a building made by men. Holy Word will tell you that truth. The building is a trap for souls, especially in our time. Any time.

Acts 7 

48Howbeit the most High dwelleth not in temples made with hands; as saith the prophet, 

 This spot is great for Long Boards. Sunboard, mine own, is a 9'6” long, perfectly balanced wave eater; do you know how hard it is to find a board that fits you, your weight and soul? And the only way you can truly know is to paddle out and take him down the line, That means you had to buy it first. We could never afford a new board. No money for that. But we were always were fortunate. When we bought our boards, most were bought from guys who HAD MONEY, surfed once, couldn't take the danger and being thrashed by powerful waves slamming them into sand bars on the ocean floor and then sold their pristine boards. Some were really old – Rhino chaser and Rincon Ghost, were long in the teeth. A horse term.

We always named our personal boards. We'd fix cracks, breaks, dings, dents, ourselves. Learned how to do it. Poor people have to do for themselves. Can't afford a surf shop, pro repair.

Rincon Ghost, Mister Acabano, Sunboard, Rhino Chaser, Foam board. Plus a few others we were given we kept around to teach anyone – for free – how to surf. If they asked, we provided. We taught a great many young guys and gals, how to surf. Our pleasure, any time.

Sunboard and I and a son.

To this day, my surfboard sits on a shelf behind me, 4 feet away. Since 2007, there is a board where I do my daily work...for you all and Heaven for more than twenty years now. I have a thing with water.

And the Great Master of Surfing, Chipper Bro, became our instant friend and over summers, hung out with us at the beach. We loved the guy. Chipper Bro created an outfit called BEST DAY EVER; and we helped him. I couldn't donate money – what money? But I could give all I was and am, for others. That I could do. What BDE was, is a group of surfers and volunteers that took autistic children out on the waves, safe and sane, so they could experience the joys of the ocean, they could never otherwise realize in their lives. We did this every summer for years. 3 times a summer for a weekend. Kayaking, surfing, small boating, like that. I still have half a dozen blue T shirts from those days. It was wonderful.

An autistic lives in a well, looking up, to live life seeing it through a very narrow lens. For their sins of a previous life. Born into coven families. That didn't mean anything to son Matt and I. We wanted to give and help, and give them a remembrance of a time when anything was possible and the lens was widened and STAYED WIDENED. For the rest of their days. I little gift I gave them, the parents never knew about, until later. And they call me the bad guy. Wow.

And dig it. All those parents hated me for that. One time, was at a beach eatery and sitting in front of me was this 13 year old autistic girl with her family and grandparents. I could never afford to eat at this spot, a dear friend took me there as a treat. Thank you. During the meal, she kept smiling at me, sometimes crying, and kept pointing at me. Finally, I took a risk and did it. Dad said no healing, for her atonement was not yet finished. Poop. But what I did was, was got up, went around the tables and as I approached she launched up from her chair and bum rushed me with the most powerful hug I've ever received IN MY LIFE. She was crying. I held her in my arms, told it was just this life and no other and peace would follow her all her days. They vaxxed that little girl and killed her. Once as a child that made her that way, autistic and later, with the Vax weapon for real. She sleeps, but not in the dry places.

Thanks mommy.

I've only ever tried to do for these lost souls in covens and to this day, they try to kill me. Not asking for thanks. Don't want it. But wow.

Me and Chipper Bro, a BIG GUY. Center of pic

Chipper Bro – the man, the legend, the surf king. He's actually famous, in those circles.

He's coven, but we never cared about that. We loved him. I take people as I find them. He was one of the very few coven guys that actually was decent to us. Oh well.

You know...try and LIVE the Holy Word once in awhile. Love your enemies as yourselves. Try it. You'll live a great deal better as a soul than you ever did. Unless they are there to kill you. Then be ready, because that does happen.

My best friend is coven and was once upon a time, SALOME. Let that one roll around in your noggin. Now, can you love your killer?

 

 

 

 

C street. Surfer's point. Nick and Nater and baby the ever faithful truck.

We lived on peanut butter sandwiches, so we could have gas money to get to the beach. Not much has changed. Please stop poisoning my food when I go buy something. Finding my barely affordable lunch spiked with cayenne or a mountain of onions I said NOT to put in, or glass or spit is just...off putting. I have to throw it out. I am asking Tehachapi to stop doing that. Please.

I've been a wave dork for a very long time, long before sons. I always had a thing with water. Rather than sit at home as my sons grew up, I offered surfing when they were very young – never allowed video games nor play stations in the home, I forbade it. They loved it. It became a family passion, and brought us to OUR PLACE OF WORSHIP, where the sand meets the ocean and the water meets the sky, there's a place that I walk along sometime....

The village dork with Rhino Chaser.

That time with Our Father, feeling the Great Sea beneath you – a cathedral of worship – for my family.

What we did, was drive out to the Fariahs, or Rincon, or C street at sunrise. Unpack my very old Toyota truck and once at the spot we'd select for that day, say a prayer of thanksgiving. Suit up, take a big swig of distilled and blessed water, and head out. During summer and school breaks, we went surfing every other day. For years and years. Once a surfer always a surfer. You surf for LIFE. Because...

We surfed year round, when most surfers were summer only guys. Not us, every weekend we went to a REAL CHURCH. Dead of winter, no one at the beach but us. We'd just wear booties and gloves so our feet and hands wouldn't go numb.

It's a crossroads of the first magnitude. Water, sky, mountains, angels, Yeshua, and YHVH. After suiting up, we'd paddle out, saying Dad's prayer to ourselves until we were outside the waves. Then we'd gather into a circle, face the cliffs overlooking Fariah Beach and thank Him for this hour and this day. Bless our friends in the water. Say Grace and the Great Prayer taught by John at the river Jordan, you all know don't you. Our Father, whom art in Heaven...

About every week, pods of dolphins would hang out with us outside and we'd surf with them. Don't believe it? So what. We had an ongoing giggle FOR YEARS. It went like this.

I saw that baby dolphin kick your ass and knock you off your board. We'd all laugh. This was said anytime one of us would wipe out. And it actually did happen. To play with us, these dolphins would ride underneath or right by us, going down the line. Then, the little darlings would smack our skeg (the guiding fin, underneath all surfboards. A kind of fixed rudder; you steered a board like you steer a skateboard, with balance and your soul) and surprise, surprise, surprise, you no longer had your board beneath your feet. You went straight into the washing machine for however long the spirits of the water wanted to keep you there. That's a fact. You could hear the dolphins laughing. I still laugh like that, Gha gha gha. Around the house, when I laugh at myself for being a dork; only thing I laugh at, never others. Those whom laugh at the misfortune of others, even tripping or falling, have STUNTED SOULS. That's cruelty. The baby dolphin laugh. We loved those guys, too. Miss them, miss them, miss them. I quite obviously, need to go see my friends at the ocean. For a day or a life.

Fire guys destroyed our place of Worship.

We loved Fariah. Unlike most Cali surf spots, it was isolated, little known, and we made it something more than what we found, back in the day. As you do. For ourselves and others. Then the fire shite heads burned it all to the ground, of a purpose, in 2017. We never went to the more popular spots. Too crowded. Too many jerks. Too many thieves that will rob you while you are out in the waves. Which one guy tried to do to us. We caught him. Called the cops. Guy was coven. He wanted to take our passion away from us, but we saw him and raced in to stop that. Called the cops. COPS WOULDN'T' ARREST HIM. MADE EXCUSES FOR HIM AND LET HIM GO. When the cop left, the guy just laughed at us and every so often, would show up at our spot while we were there and stink eye us.

One coven guy tried to beat up my son Nathan when he was 15 – twice his size and in his 40s. Covens sent male witches in to harass us. Then they learned the hard way about fire. But...still they came on and on, every so often. We were away from people, but oh no, that's not good enough. (this sounds so familiar. Wait. It will come to me. Oh Yeah. Tehachapi) Have to come and try and ruin our walk and way. It's still that way. STILL. I've learned the most hardest of ways, you can never make peace with devils whom live by hate. They never stop. They just scheme their next plans. They only understand, sadly, one thing. So, that's what you have to do to live.

See how they do to us?

Do you SEE IT?

This is how we are treated, by covens, all our lives.

I live the Psalms, and the ever long complaint of King Daud. Almost half the Psalms are David complaining of just this kind of shite. Read them sometime. Turn off the TV for 5 minutes and read a Psalm a day. It will do you well. If you want.

Son Matthew.

 

My favorite surf month? October.

I used to always want a wife or girlfriend whom was what I called, a Santa Barbara girl. This is a lady, dresses is breezy summer dresses, loves the beach, is there every chance she gets, and has a little light in her eyes, walk, and way. I saw her from time to time, but she was always, already taken. Some other fortunate son had her and she had him. It was never to be for me. Not in any life. Those lives where I was allowed a family, she never appeared. Waiting for Our Father to turn me on for that life or doing. By doing time, the dream I hoped for was never to be. We would marry, love for life, and raise a happy family – like the rest of mankind. Not me. Never in the cards. I did the best I could and the boys mother, was the best I could in this life. After she booted me from the family because of Yeshua, I never ever was with a woman except as a friend again. I've been a virgin since those days. I've tried since then, but Dad always forbade it. Not for you son. For you cannot serve mankind and Heaven and a wife for what you must be.

Do I miss it? What do you think. I am a man after all. But I just sublimate all those energies into my Walk and Way. Many do. It's for the better. Father knows best.

Don

I see now why He wanted this written up, but was uncomfortable talking about myself. I am not what matters...

 

YESHUA IS WHAT MATTERS