publish my writing

I have wanted to be a published writer ever since I was a child.
This is you could say my childhood dream, however, I am always very hard on myself about my writing. I feel that for me the best way would be to do some kind of creative writing course and then see if I really do have anything special to contribute. Then I will get enough confidence I think to submit my writing to publishers and promote it.

Yeah, this is up there. I’m trying.

I have done project papers and thesis but have never tried writing and published a real articles. Its been my dream of writing articles and novels but never understood of preparing a great article and grabs people reading it.

I’ve been passionate about writing since high school, and have been trying to hone my skills since then. I’ve easily filled 20 plus large notebooks with songs, poems, shot stories, and a few attempts at novels. I’m not sure how to go about this (publishing my writing), but it’s a step I’m really wanting to take in my life. I’m ready to see what will happen if I just put it out there… I’m ready for rejection or whatever else life wants to give me.

Any pointers or help help?

Now that most people are aware that Yeshua wasn’t born on December 25th or even in December at all, the next question people have been asking is, “When was He really born then?” . There are some Scriptures that answer that question and it’s pretty simple to see once we understand some Jewish customs and Jewish traditions.

In order to make our calculations we first have to look at John the Baptist and his father Zechariah. in Luke 1:5 it tells us that Zechariah was a priest of the order of Abijah. While he was performing his duties an angel appeared and told him his wife Elizabeth would have a son, Yochanan (John).

1 Chronicles 24:7-18. tells us about the order in which the priests performed these duties. The family of Abijah was eighth in line so he would’ve been performing his duties during the Feast of Succoth (Pentecost). Since a pregnancy is 9 months, that means John the Immerser (Baptist) was born during Pasach (Passover).

So now that we know when John the Immerser was born we have to look at Luke 1:36. There we see that John was 6 months older then Yeshua. So that would have put His conception at Chanuka and 9 months later the birth of Yeshua at the time of Succoth! We see also in Luke 2:10 at the birth of Yeshua that an angel gives typical Succoth wording (Luke 2:10) “Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all Nations. These are words used during Succoth. Matter of fact Succoth is the “Festival of Joy”, and it is also known as the “Festival of the Nations”. How appropriate that the angel uses these words to announce the Saviour of the world!

There are other indications. The Hebrew word for “stable” is “succah” and a succah is a booth that we make every year during the Feast of Succoth (Pentecost). So Yeshua was not only born on Succoth, He was even born IN a succah!
These succhas were temporary dwellings built outside or along the side of the house. Inside of these succahs were placed a food box with enough food in there to eat for the entire holiday for the family. This food crib in the King James Bible it was translated as “manger”. Because it was Succoth it also stands to reason why the Magi were able to see the star through the roofs of their Succahs because the three wise men were Jewish as well.

Have you ever wondered why all the inns were full just before they went to the “stable”? There’s a very good reason why. Three times a year all the male adults had to go to Jerusalem to celebrate the feasts. Jews came from all over the world to sacrafice at the temple. So, Jerusalem and all the immediate areas, like Bethlehem were full of visitors. It would be very difficult to get a room during these High Holy days. So that’s why Joseph and Mary couldn’t find a room and had to stay in a succah.

One last point against December 25th being the day that Yeshua was born. Anyone who has lived in Israel in the Jerusalem area knows that it gets very cold there in the winter time. I lived there for 19 years and it snowed almost every year. Jerusalem is 2500 feet above sea level and it’s much too cold for the sheep to be out grazing at night…
(Luk 2:8) And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.
Many silly ideas and doctrines can be solved by simply living in The Land rather then trying to be solved by translaters and theologians a thousand miles away who say they’ve “heard from God” while millions believe these men are “inspired by the Holy Spirit”.

Shalom beYeshua and Happy Chanukah!
Rabbi Stanley

I stare at the wall, the strain on my arms is so unbearable. I’m about to faint. My whole body is drenched in sweat. If I survive this torture, I will never be the same. I hear the screams of my fellow prisoners, but don’t look. If I look I might falter, and that is the last thing I want to do. Our captors force us day after day, to stand with our arms straight out, holding a tray with glasses of water on it. If one drop spills, we are whipped until we are unconscious, and then revived and whipped again.
I let out an uncontrolled scream, the pain in my arms is so much I wish to be dead. There is a pool of perspiration building on the floor around me, and I can’t hold out any longer. I start to drop my tray when a whistle sounds. Time to put them down. Numerous trays clatter to the ground, the water splashing our feet. We don’t care; wet feet are the least of our worries.
The prison guard named Dimitri motions toward me, and I start forward slowly. I reach him, and before I can react, I hear the woosh of air as a club comes at my head. It hits, and I black out. I am dimly aware of a single thought that goes through my head. What now?
When I awake, I find my arms and legs bound by leather straps to a chair. Lights shine in my eyes, and a few men stand behind them, so as I can not distinguish their faces. I squint, unable to take the bright light. I hear voices, and I turn my head, which is a mistake. My head seems to burst with pain, and colored dots dance through my vision. I know that I probably won’t survive to see my fellow prisoners again, and I swallow hard. So this is it….
Before I can react, the men shove a mushroom of some sort down my throat. I am forced to chew it lest I choke. I swallow, knowing it would be stupid to spit it back out. Almost instantly, my arms and legs begin to buzz and tingle. My vision turns colors, and things seem to change properties. I have no clue to what is going on, but I don’t care. My mind is too far gone to think for itself. It lets the magical property of the mushroom carry my thoughts through windswept plains to mountains covered in fog.
My mind stops wandering throughout the world and stops on these mountains. All of the sudden, it seems as though I am dropped, even though I thought I was already attached to the ground. I stagger, as if drunk, towards these mountains.
I get closer and closer, but farther and farther away from the mountains at the same time. My vision doesn’t work properly. I see a purple deer which I know can’t exist. All of the sudden, everything in my field of vision turns blue. I stumble against trees and rocks that I cannot see due to the blue landscape around me. I become dizzy, I can’t orient myself. The world is spinning, I sit down. Everything returns to its normal color.
I stand and take a single step towards the mountain. All of the sudden, it’s only feet from my face. I fall over backwards, unsure of what just happened, and then stand back up. Nothing is making sense…. I start my trek up the mountain, and almost instantly, a fog grows so thick around me, I can’t see my own feet. For some reason, I know it shall not pass, so I continue to hike.
I don’t know how, it’s as if I sense it, but I know a cave that is safe from this world is nearby. I hurry in the direction I know it lies, before I lose this feeling. I reach the cavern, and a warm sensation of relief floods over me. I am saved…! It is short lived. I hear the bear before I see it. I turn and I see it’s mighty paw descend upon me.
I scream, and awake from my dream. I feel my arms constricted about me by my straight jacket, and I hear a man rap on the bars on the window of my padded cell. I stare at the ceiling. I start to laugh, low at first, until in builds into an uncontrollable maniacal laughter that shakes me all over.
Safe, I think to myself. Safe at last.

Individual desires come and go
Seek principal purposes
Wholeheartedly awaited
For passionate sentiment
Vicious judgments take place
Damage incurred in the beginning
Motive of anguish draw closer
Loads of grouches inside
Notice nothing outside
Eager to promote happiness
Closer for victory of bliss
At lasts a touch of satisfaction
Obtain by existence
Catch a glimpse of meaningless emotion

- wela caspe -

A moment in time weak and strong
Holding for tomorrow to be better
Each and everyday past
Complication comes
Wondering when it will end
Memories of past still coming thru

Another day has ended
A new day has begun
Struggling for each challenges
Wondering for future to come
No answer for each question
Memories living behind

Brightness and darkness
Sprinkle of Patience
Magic of Love
Lighten up by Hope
Guided by Faith
Memories gone but not forgotten

- wela caspe -

Just putting this off for a while. Since I’m currently working full-time, going to school and working toward a career change, this isn’t really a priority for me right now. I may revisit this down the road, but for now I need to clean up my goals so I can focus more on those that are more important to me right now.

This hasn’t been all that important to me lately so I’ve been thinking of removing it from my list. Then this goal received its first cheer, so I’m taking that encouragement as a sign to continue working on my book (not sure how to fit this into my schedule right now, but that’s beside the point). Meeting goals is like writing; it all comes down to perspective. Years from now I don’t want to sit back and wonder “What if?”.

Who am I to write and want it published? Asking that question makes me realize that I am just like any other writer out there – I have nothing of value to say until someone reads it and places value on what I’ve written. This may just be another piece of my history. I will write, if, for no other reason than to provide someone out there with a good chuckle or an idea that provokes him/her to think. That’s the best I can hope for.