Freedom of Speech

For a number of years I engaged in writing letters to the editor of our local newspaper. They included responses to other letters and events; things that really matter to me. Among the letters were those concerning abortion, Donald Trump, and other issues. The paper printed every one of them. At one point our privately owned newspaper was sold to USA Today Network. From that time on, not even one was printed.and I gave up on them.This blog post was inspired by the sudden move away from his strong stand on the former President Donald Trump. I know the democrat party is filled with glee because the pro-life voters will not support Trump.His criticism of Governor DeSantis, who has not yet declared a candidacy, just gained the governor a number of passionate supporters.

Note: Other posts on this site can be found by date on the right side of the posts. Check out:the following dates: 7/21/22, 6/15,22, 1/29/21, 1/25/20, 2/1/20

How many of us are there? Have the media and polls underestimated the numbers as they did with the numbers at the March for Life? And how many of those at the January 6th protest were pro-life. After all it was truly a protest and not an insurrection. It was a visual exercise of free speech. Our country is on the brink of destruction financially, culturally, and morally. Yes, we do need to speak about abortion. It is the number one issue!

Note: I did not intend to put this photo here but did it by mistake. However you may draw some relevance from it to this blog. However it is found in a post from May 6, 2020.

On Daffodils and Souls

How I will miss the daffodils, that only bloom in spring,

But on this day in April I’ve come to say good-by.

Their cheerful heads are drooping. I miss their happy smiles.

Just a few still lingering, where dozens filled the space.

Yet as I sit and listen, the birds refuse to mourn.

Perhaps they know the hidden bulbs retain the seed

To wait and sprout in just another year.

And is it so with people how we mourn for spring once more?

Could we not just rejoice in those present on this day?

For both daffodils and people are forever, never truly gone

The bulbs and souls are hidden Still they never really leave

So on this day in April though sad to see them wilt.

Lift up our hearts and thank the Lord for yet another blooming

And yet another spring to say hello to daffodils and souls

And never mourn again.

DJ Pasternak April 18, 2023


Excerpt from Daybreak: The Crucifixion

If I knew what Columba and I would experience that night and the next day, I wondered if either of us would have pursued Yeshua and those who arrested Him. Still I am thankful for having been there.

Part 10 Truly this man was the Son of God! Mark 15:39

The Passion and Burial of Our Lord

Columba cried out: “Jon, will your God rescue His Son? Why must He suffer such pain?”

I knew why and needed to tell my friend the reason. “He suffers for our sins and for those of all men. He pays the price for justice. We know that God is just as well as merciful. The mystery is one of God’s love for us. Yeshua is like a lamb led to slaughter, a sacrifice offered like the lambs that are being slain for the Passover Feast.”

Yet it was even difficult for me, raised a Jew, to accept this. How much more beyond the understanding of a Roman. If God allowed this for His own Son, what would become of the friends of Yeshua?

“He is trying to speak. Listen,” Josephus said.

Woman, behold, your son! Son, behold your mother! He said, looking down at His mother and John who stood close to the foot of the cross.

In His agony the Son of God expressed concern for His mother. It was a human quality, love for one’s mother. This man hanging on the cross was both human and divine.

Yeshua said, I thirst.

One of the guards took a sponge, dipped it in a vessel of wine, and stuck it on a sprig of hyssop. Lifting the sponge to Yeshua’s mouth, they tried to make Him drink, but He refused. The guard removed it from Him.

Yeshua spoke saying, My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

He felt abandoned by our Lord just as I had at times. I knew He was God’s Son yet also human. We never saw His Father. Now we had seen the Son face to face.

Minutes later he said, It is Finished.

We realized Yeshua would not be rescued by His Father. He spoke from the cross one last time.

Into Your hands I commend My Spirit.

The wind swept over Golgotha. The earth shook, and a chasm in the solid rock surface separated us from our friends. Columba and I were nearer the cross on one side of the fissure and Josephus and Simon on the other. Darkness unlike any I had seen in daytime covered Golgotha and the Temple area beyond.

Blessed is He who comes in the Name of the Lord!

Intro to Part 8 and short excerpt from Daybreak novel:

With the gifts of Purim given, I experienced sadness yet freedom. Unaware of what was about to take place in the following month of Nisan, I embarked on relocating to a place overlooking the Kidron Valley and the Mount of Olives. Still grieving the loss of my mother I was comforted by friends with whom I survived the best and the worst of days.

Part 8 Hozanna to the Son of David; blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord Matt.21:9

Entrance of Yeshua into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday

The following morning, the eighth of Nisan, proved to be extremely busy for me. After many sales that morning, absolutely no one passed by after noon and I decided to go home and relax. The sun was well past the highest point in the sky as I sat outside with a cup of wine and some figs and barley bread.

My view to the east faced across the Kidron Valley to the Mount of Olives. I leaned back as far as possible to see the summit but could not view the highest point. Walking out past the cover of the arbor, I was able to see the crest of the lush mountain. It was actually a range of peaks ascending and descending with the final drop being deep into the Kidron Valley before me. I heard commotion off in the distance and saw what at first I thought I imagined, a mass of heads appearing as people approached the summit. Soon I could see a great number in a procession as they came to the crest of the hill.

The river of people streamed down the mount strewing something like branches. As they progressed further, a wide path of greens appeared covering the brown dirt road. It mystified me. What was all this? The sound of singing and laughter like a celebration, perhaps a royal wedding.

The procession continued and I strained to see a man seated on an animal, a donkey. How very strange. After perhaps an hour, some of them were already coming through the valley and back up toward the Sheep Gate, where the lambs to be slaughtered for Passover would soon pass through. The flow of people began to process by on the road to the temple, which lay to my left.

I heard the words they kept singing.

Hosanna to the Son of David. Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest

I ran back to my dwelling, grabbed my cloak and walking stick, and went to join the procession. By the time I caught up to them, there were hundreds ahead of me. I caught a glimpse of the man on the donkey a ways behind, and the remainder of those processing jubilantly.

“Who is that?” I yelled to get the attention of a poorly dressed man next to me.

“That is a great prophet and wonder worker from Nazareth!” he shouted back.