Book Review: The Veil by Blake Healy
A Field Guide to Angels, Atmospheres, and Unseen Realms
Signal Capture
When Genesis was three, she saw what we couldn’t.
She’d point to glowing orbs floating through our house—colored lights that pulsed and shimmered, especially when my wife would sing worship songs or pray aloud. She talked about them in church, too—“bright ones” gathered near the worship team, “angry ones” in the corners where no one looked.
At first, we chalked it up to imagination. But the consistency was uncanny. The timing too precise. Her language—uncanny for a toddler—matched spiritual movements we felt but couldn’t see.
That season wrecked our assumptions. It forced us to take the unseen seriously. That’s when we found The Veil by Blake Healy.
Everything clicked.
Healy’s vivid, grounded account of growing up with spiritual sight confirmed what we suspected: our daughter was seeing into the realm most of us ignore. The book didn’t just explain her experiences. It equipped us. It gave us new eyes to understand prayer, authority, and worship.
Genesis is ten now. She still sees sometimes—she just doesn’t try as much these days. But rereading The Veil makes me want to call her back into it. To remind her that what she carries is real. And needed.
Even if you’ve never seen a thing, The Veil will change how you pray.
It will empower your worship.
It will clarify your authority.
It will challenge your assumptions about what spiritual warfare actually looks like.
And it might just awaken something in you that’s been asleep for years.
“For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.”
— Ephesians 6:12 (ESV)
Core Protocols
Healy doesn’t offer spiritual theory—he drops reconnaissance. The Veil isn’t about chasing visions; it’s about waking up to the war in the room. These Core Protocols come straight from his front-line vantage point—where angels shift atmospheres and demons cling to lies. Learn to worship with power, pray with precision, and parent with discernment. Start here to engage what’s already moving around you.
1. The Gift of Sight
Healy has seen angels and demons for as long as he’s been conscious. Classrooms. Grocery stores. Churches. His spiritual vision doesn’t flicker—it’s always on.
What sets The Veil apart? There’s no spectacle. No drama. Just clean, consistent reporting from a man whose descriptions haven’t changed in over 30 years. That consistency builds trust—especially for readers tempted to be skeptical.
And here’s the key: you don’t need to see to fight. This isn’t a book for spiritual elites. It’s for the rest of us—those willing to engage by faith, not fantasy.
Healy doesn’t just tell you what he sees—he shows you why it matters. Angels cluster near worship. Demons attach to lies. Bitterness lingers like tar. Joy breaks like light.
2. Worship Shifts the Atmosphere
Worship isn’t ambiance—it’s architecture.
And not just any structure—a tabernacle.
Every note you play, every lyric you sing, lays spiritual infrastructure. Like the Levites before battle, you’re framing a throne for God’s presence to dwell. Whether you’re up front or on bass in the shadows, you’re constructing sacred space.
Each note lays a beam.
Each lyric raises a wall.
Each chord sets heaven’s resonance in the room.
Worship leaders: Choose songs that exalt Jesus. Lead with intention. Engage the room like heaven is watching—because it is. Your music doesn’t entertain—it invades.
Congregants: Sing anyway. Don’t wait for your feelings to catch up. Your voice still builds the throne. Even from row nine.
And don’t box this into Sundays.
Worship can erupt in your kitchen. It can stir in a whisper before work. My wife worships every single morning while she’s getting ready. It’s how she spiritually aligns before the day.
And yes—God moves in traffic. Who doesn’t need more Jesus on I-35?
But worship isn’t just ambiance—it’s artillery.
I remember one morning when our daughter Genesis was 3 years old and in full meltdown mode—screaming, overwhelmed, inconsolable. My wife didn’t shout over her. She turned on worship music, picked her up, and held her. Within seconds, the atmosphere shifted. The torment broke. And Genesis looked up and said sweetly: “Oh, hi Mama.”
The demon that was tormenting her? Gone. In Jesus’ name. It was palpable.
Worship isn’t filler. It’s warfare.
3. Authority Trumps Fear
Healy doesn’t fear demons. And that’s the point.
“They’re like school bullies. They thrive on fear. But they lose all power when you know who you are.”
This isn’t spooky theology. It’s identity—anchored in verses like 1 John 4:4: “Greater is He that is in you than he that is in the world.”
Fear is a natural response. But authority overrides nature. When believers operate from their seated position in Christ, courage isn’t bravado—it’s alignment.
In practice, that might look like speaking truth out loud when fear whispers lies. Rebuking anxiety in Jesus’ name. Declaring peace over your home.
Step into the realms with intent. You’re not powerless. You’re positioned. When believers operate from their seated position in Christ, fear isn’t just irrational—it’s disobedient.
4. Children Often See First
This one hits home.
Healy recounts story after story of children seeing into the spirit before anyone else—often dismissed or ignored.
Sometimes they’re silenced. Sometimes they’re discipled.
Your kids might not be “imagining things.” They might be witnessing what you’ve trained yourself to block out.
Pay attention. Ask questions. Don't overwrite their wonder.
5. Three Realms, One Battlefield
One of the most clarifying undercurrents of The Veil is the implicit reality that we live in three overlapping realms:
The Physical Realm – What we see, touch, and measure.
The Soul Realm – Our mind, will, and emotions.
The Spiritual Realm – The unseen reality of angels, demons, and the presence of God.
Blake Healy’s gift of sight pierces the spiritual realm, but his stories consistently reveal how all three realms are interconnected.
“I could see bitterness sitting on people like black tar. But I could also see joy explode in the room like light when someone worshiped with their whole heart.”
The mistake modern believers make is trying to address spiritual problems with physical tools, or interpret emotional pain only through psychology—forgetting that there is a third dimension shaping both.
“May God himself, the God of peace, sanctify you through and through. May your whole spirit, soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
— 1 Thessalonians 5:23 (NIV)“For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.”
— Hebrews 4:12 (NIV)
Protocols for engaging all three:
Physical: Steward your space, your voice, your posture.
Soul: Guard your inputs. Renew your mind. Speak truth to emotion.
Spiritual: Declare authority. Pray with clarity. Worship like you mean it.
The battlefield is multi-layered. But once you understand the realms, you stop swinging in the dark—you start striking with intent.
Cortex Ops: The Neuroscience of Seeing the Unseen
You don’t need eyes like Blake Healy to take this seriously—but it helps to know your brain might already be part of the equation.
This isn’t about reducing the spirit to synapses. It’s about understanding the interface. Neurotheology, sensory perception, childhood development—they all point to one reality:
Your brain isn’t the ceiling of spiritual experience. It’s the cockpit.
What Healy sees with startling clarity, others may feel, sense, or ignore—depending on how their system filters and routes the unseen.
This section interrogates the science behind spiritual sensitivity. The thresholds. The wiring. The filters. Because sometimes, walking by faith means knowing how your hardware handles the signal.
1. Spiritual Perception Has a Neurological Interface
Healy says his spiritual sight overlays reality like augmented vision—like living inside a spiritual heads-up display. In neuroscience, that echoes traits found in people with "thin boundaries" and differences in sensory gating—terms that describe a brain more open to impressions that cross the normal filter between inner and outer worlds.
People with “thin boundaries” are more sensitive to emotion, intuition, and invisible cues (Hartmann, 1991).
Others may "feel" spiritual realities the way some feel a room shift or a presence draw near.
Want to test your own interface? Pause during prayer. Notice impressions, shifts in mood, spontaneous mental images. What’s signal? What’s static?
Hartmann, E. (1991). Boundaries in the Mind. Zammit et al. (2004). Sensory gating deficits and schizotypy. Biol Psych.
2. The Right Brain Is Wired for the Invisible
The right hemisphere processes metaphor, emotion, mystery—all of which God uses to speak. When you pray, worship, or simply get still, neuroimaging shows increased activation in:
The parietal lobe—linked to your sense of self and where you are in space (ever felt transported in worship?).
The limbic system—your emotional amplifier, where awe, peace, and joy take root.
The right brain isn’t a hallucination center—it’s a canvas for divine signal.
To engage it: try worship without lyrics. Meditate on a symbol. Journal what you see, not just what you think.
Newberg & d’Aquili (2001). Why God Won’t Go Away.
3. Belief Primes Perception
Your brain predicts what it expects to see—and then bends perception to match it. That’s predictive coding. It’s why your faith doesn’t just change outcomes—it changes inputs.
Elisha prayed, “Open his eyes, Lord,” and the servant saw the angelic army (2 Kings 6:17).
Expectation tunes the receiver. Faith unlocks signal others ignore.
Try this: declare a verse aloud before entering prayer. Speak truth over your atmosphere. You’re not just shifting mindset—you’re resetting perception.
Friston, K. (2010). The Free-Energy Principle. Nat Rev Neurosci.
4. Children Run on Mystical Frequencies
Children’s brains operate primarily in theta wave states—the same brain rhythm as deep prayer, imagination, and visionary experiences. They’re literally tuned to receive.
That’s why kids like Genesis may see orbs. Their filters are open.
What we dismiss as play, heaven may recognize as praise.
Parents: ask what your child senses in worship. Give space for impressions, pictures, or “weird” feelings. Don’t rush to correct—steward.
“Unless you become like little children…” —Matthew 18:3
Cortex Takeaways
You may never see glowing orbs. Doesn’t mean you’re broken. Doesn’t mean you’re blind.
Your spirit receives.
Your mind interprets.
Your brain routes.
Try this: pause daily in prayer and ask, “What am I sensing?” Journal it. Observe.
Your signal may be faint—but it’s there. Amplify it with practice. You’re built for this war, even if your signal’s still static.
Tactical Deployment: How to Engage the Unseen Realm
The veil is thin—but passivity is thick. The room hums with unseen forces—an angel brushes past, a demon clings to the ceiling, light presses in at the edges—but distraction dulls your senses and doubt jams the signal.
Reading The Veil isn’t the objective. Responding is. Blake Healy doesn’t just reveal what he sees—he equips you to do something about it. This section translates sight into strategy, presence into posture. If Core Protocols gave you recon and Cortex Ops decoded your signal routing, this is where you move.
Because faith isn’t feelings—it’s formation.
And war isn’t theory—it’s terrain.
Prayer Enforces Authority
You don’t pray to ask. You pray to enforce.
Stop inviting God like He’s outside the room. Start declaring truth like you’re seated with Christ. You don’t need spiritual goosebumps—you need spiritual jurisdiction.
Try this:
“In Jesus’ name, fear has no place here.”
“I carry the authority of Christ—I walk in peace, not panic.”
You’re not begging—you’re legislating. Authority isn’t mystical—it’s legal. You’re a son. You’re a daughter. That’s the badge. Wear it.
Worship as Daily Alignment
Worship doesn’t start on Sunday. It starts at the sink. In the car. On the floor before your day begins.
Before you ask for breakthrough—build the tabernacle.
If you’re a worship leader: choose songs that name Jesus clearly. Weight over vibe. Truth over trend. You’re not just curating a set—you’re aligning a room with heaven’s resonance.
If you’re in the congregation: your voice still shifts the atmosphere. Sing through your doubts. Your agreement still builds.
But don’t stop there.
My wife worships every morning while getting ready. It’s how she calibrates her spirit—hair straightener in one hand, worship playlist on the speaker. Her atmosphere is aligned before she ever touches the day.
And traffic? That’s where theology gets field-tested. Worship in gridlock isn’t cute—it’s combat. Bless the honkers. Sing through the gridlock. Let praise override pettiness.
Deploy worship where you actually live.
Not just in church—in chaos.
Train Your Kids in Sensitivity
Children are wired for wonder—don’t override it.
Ask them what they feel in worship. Give them simple phrases like, “I feel Jesus here,” or “I see light around that person.” Don’t press. Don’t dismiss. Just help them name what their spirit already knows.
Like Genesis pointing to orbs, your child might be seeing first.
You’re not just raising a child.
You’re stewarding a seer.
Cover them in prayer. Teach them the name of Jesus. Let sensitivity grow without shame.
Discern the Signal
Not every whisper is from God. Not every vision is truth. You need filters.
Ask:
Does this align with Scripture?
Does this lead me toward Jesus?
Does this multiply peace—or sow confusion?
You’re not a victim of the spiritual realm—you’re an agent in it. Test everything. Keep what’s pure. Ditch the rest.
Discernment isn’t fear—it’s fidelity.
Carry Atmospheres with Intent
You don’t just walk into rooms—you shift them.
Clear your own internal static daily. Try this:
Each morning, confess one lie you’ve believed.
Counter it with one Scripture truth.
Speak it out loud.
This isn’t self-help—it’s signal clarity.
When your inner world is aligned, your outer presence transmits heaven.
Your joy cracks ceilings.
Your hope rewires atmospheres.
Your presence carries weight.
You’re emissarial. You don’t mirror culture—you bring Christ.
“Christ in you, the hope of glory” isn’t theology. It’s threat-level data.
Walk like heaven rides shotgun.
Critique Node: Where the Edges Blur
What The Veil Does Exceptionally Well
Authentic voice. No hype, no drama—just clean recon from the front lines.
Disarming honesty. Healy talks fear, failure, and growth without spin.
Empowerment without elitism. He doesn’t elevate himself—he equips the reader.
Fresh metaphors. The spiritual world becomes legible, not lofty.
Tension Points for Readers
Loose biblical scaffolding. Scripture is present but lightly applied. Readers expecting tight exegesis may feel adrift.
Subjectivity without guardrails. Healy reports what he sees, but doesn’t always anchor it in theological frameworks.
No map for misfires. What happens when discernment is off? That section’s missing.
Who This Book Is For
Spiritually curious believers who suspect there’s more than Sunday sermons and safe prayers.
Parents of spiritually sensitive kids—this may be the most helpful field guide you’ll find.
Worship leaders, musicians, and intercessors who want to wield atmospheres with clarity and weight.
Who May Struggle With It
Cessationists, who may reject the premise outright.
Skeptics, who need data over anecdote.
Theologically rigid readers, who prefer their frameworks tightly bolted and clearly sourced.
The strength of The Veil lies in what it invites, not what it proves.
It doesn’t argue for the unseen—it assumes it.
If you need footnotes before faith, this won’t land.
But if you’re willing to entertain the possibility that spiritual sight still operates—and that you might be more wired for it than you thought—The Veil won’t just inform you.
It will activate you.
Final Transmission: The Veil Is Thin
We’ve built a modern faith on what we can manage—what we can measure, systemize, explain. We have theology degrees, service run sheets, polished podcasts. But somewhere along the way, we forgot:
There’s a war happening in the room.
Right now.
Not metaphorically. Not emotionally. Actually.
Angels are watching. Demons are scheming.
Light is pushing. Darkness is resisting.
And the prayers you whisper may detonate in realms you’ve never dared to perceive.
Blake Healy didn’t write The Veil to impress you.
He wrote it to remind you.
That reality is layered.
That heaven isn’t distant.
That the unseen isn’t unreal—it’s just unacknowledged.
The spiritual realm is not optional. It is not folklore.
It is the source code behind what you call normal.
Your child may feel it.
Your worship may shift it.
Your prayers may crack open ceilings.
So lift your eyes.
Ask God to sharpen your discernment.
Ask the Spirit to train your senses.
And walk like someone who knows:
You are not alone in the room.
“Those who are with us are more than those who are with them.”
— 2 Kings 6:16
The veil is thin.
And some are born to see through it.
But all are called to live like it’s real.
[FIN/ACK]
Transmission Complete
Process Accordingly
—Protocol One.
Want to see what’s really happening in the room?
Blake Healy grew up seeing angels and demons like the rest of us see furniture. The Veil isn’t hype—it’s recon. If you’re a spiritually curious parent, worship leader, or just hungry to understand the invisible war shaping your world, this book delivers clarity without spectacle and insight without elitism.
🛒 Grab The Veil on Amazon and start engaging what’s already moving around you.
As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases.
If this review sharpened your thinking or helped you decide what’s worth your shelf space, consider buying me a coffee.
Every cup fuels more deep reads and honest takes—no skimming, no fluff.
☕ Support the work: buymeacoffee.com/protocolone