Ten Words Press

Welcome to Ten Words Press. My name is Charles Vance, and together with my covenant partner in life, Polly, we serve as custodians behind this covenant-centered publishing imprint. Every word you find on this site emerges from years of study, prayer, and a relentless pursuit of understanding YHWH’s covenant with His people. Polly and I stand in full agreement with the terms of the New Covenant with YHWH, walking side by side in this calling to proclaim His Kingdom.

​

Our journey is rooted in a deep reverence for the Ten Words—the original covenant given at Sinai—and a shared desire to see that voice restored in our generation. My work as a writer-curator, joined with Polly’s dedication to teaching and discipleship, is driven by a calling to rightly divide the Scriptures, to discern between the covenants, and to proclaim the foundational truths of the faith with clarity and conviction. We believe that the Ten Words represent the constitution of the Kingdom and the framework by which all covenant revelation must be measured.

​

Polly also hosts the Rumble channel A Believer’s Guide to Hebrew Feast and Righteous Living, where she shares how Yeshua’s Hebrew heritage reveals the Gospel and how believers can experience its fullness through the appointed times of YHWH. Together, our goal is to help readers and viewers recover the voice of YHWH as it was spoken at Sinai, fulfilled in Messiah (Yeshua/Jesus), and now written on hearts by the Ruach HaKodosh (Spirit of the Holy One).

​

My Writing Process

I begin each book, article, or study with prayer—seeking not just knowledge but wisdom. I do not write simply to inform, but to transform. I believe that theology is not merely a system of belief but a lens through which we live. As such, my writing reflects a covenant lens—examining Scripture through the unfolding promises made to Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and ultimately fulfilled in Yeshua.

​

Much of my initial process involves outlining the structure of the work with covenant in mind. I identify the main covenant themes, whether it be priesthood, Sabbath, righteousness, atonement, or kingdom order, and I build the study around those anchor points. I ask: What did YHWH say first? What was added because of transgression? What was fulfilled in Messiah? What still speaks today? These questions guide the shape of my manuscripts.

​

Once the theological scaffold is laid, I begin drafting—and this is where modern tools become a part of the process.

​

​Theology with Integrity

Every page you read has been reviewed and refined multiple times. I do not publish quickly. I believe that writing about the covenant demands both reverence and accuracy. My theological framework is not built on denominational traditions but on the promises of YHWH, the words of Messiah, and the testimony of the apostles. I distinguish between the Book of the Covenant and the Book of the Law. I teach that the New Covenant restores us to the original promises made to Abraham. I believe that Messiah’s death, resurrection, and outpouring of the Ruach have written the Ten Words—not on tablets of stone, but on the hearts of a covenant people.

​

This lens affects every doctrine I examine. When I write about righteousness, I begin with Abraham. When I write about priesthood, I begin with Adam and Melchizedek. When I write about prophecy, I begin with covenant sequence, not modern headlines. This approach takes time. It requires constant cross-referencing, historical awareness, and prayerful listening. That is why I lean on every tool available, including the language model, to help make these ideas accessible.

​

The Role of the Language Model

I work with a computer-based language model, not as a replacement for study or prayer, but as a digital scribe—an assistant in the writing room. This tool allows me to test ideas quickly, refine theological arguments, and explore historical or linguistic context without breaking creative flow. It can suggest connections, offer summaries of ancient texts, and help clarify technical language for a broader audience.

​

Importantly, I never use the model to generate theology or conclusions. The foundation of my work is grounded in covenant, guided by Scripture, and shaped by the indwelling Ruach. However, I do use the model to shape the rhythm and flow of what I’ve already built. It is like working with an editor who never tires—a second set of eyes that helps me polish and streamline.

​

When I write a complex section on, for example, the distinction between the Book of the Covenant and the Book of the Law, I often use the language model to test whether the argument is clear. I can ask it to rephrase something or explain it from another angle. If I’ve written five dense paragraphs, I might request a summary to see whether the core point stands out. If it doesn’t, I return to the draft and make adjustments.

​

The model is also a powerful research assistant. I use it to confirm dates, examine variations in translations, and summarize commentaries I have already read. This keeps me efficient, but not detached. I don't let technology lead the message—I let the covenant lead, and technology serve. I developed and use a charter called 12 Tribe to ensure fidelity to the Covenants of Promise.

​

What Is 12Tribe?

12Tribe is not a theological system, denomination, or doctrinal authority. It is a structured interpretive framework designed to guide how scriptural responses are organized and articulated within the model. Built entirely around the Covenants of Promise (Ephesians 2:12), 12Tribe ensures that all responses remain rooted in the covenant structure revealed in Scripture, from the original oath to Abraham in Genesis 12 to the ratified covenant at Sinai (Exodus 24) and ultimately fulfilled in Messiah.

​

Its role is not to generate theology, invent conclusions, or teach dogma. Instead, 12Tribe disciplines how the model processes and presents information, requiring that everything be examined through the lens of covenant fidelity, prophetic structure, and the distinction between the Royal Torah (the Ten Words written on hearts) and the Book of the Law (added due to transgression). It governs language use, enforces clarity in covenant terms, and filters out traditional or denominational bias by requiring that Scripture interpret Scripture.

​

In short, 12Tribe keeps the model aligned with the covenant path—functioning as a guardrail, not a guide. It is a tool that helps the user test all things, preserve covenant order, and ensure that the voice of Scripture is honored above the voice of tradition.

📄 Download the 12Tribe Interpretive Framework Explainer v3 (PDF)

​

Why I Write

I write because I believe the voice of YHWH still speaks. I believe His Ten Words still stand. I believe the covenant is still open and the Bride is still being prepared. I write for those who are weary of tradition but hungry for truth—for those who long to see Scripture not as fragments, but as a unified, covenantal whole.

​

Everything you read on this site comes from that place. Whether it is a devotional, a study, or a full-length book, it was built slowly, prayerfully, and with the utmost care. The language model may have helped polish the surface, but the fire underneath—the covenant flame—that comes from above.

​

Thank you for reading. Thank you for trusting me as a guide in this journey of rediscovery. And thank you for honoring the voice of the One who still writes on tablets of the heart.

​

Why I Sometimes use the Pen Name Baruch the Scribe

In the Scriptures, Baruch son of Neriah was the faithful scribe of the prophet Jeremiah. While Jeremiah received the Word of YHWH, it was Baruch who recorded, organized, and preserved that revelation—sometimes even rewriting entire scrolls after they were destroyed (Jeremiah 36). Baruch was not the prophet. He did not originate the Word. He listened. He transcribed. He refined.

​

When I write, especially when wrestling with deep covenant truths or recording what has come through prayer and study, I sometimes use the pen name Baruch the Scribe. It’s not a persona—it’s a posture. It reflects how I see myself in the creative process: not as a prophet, not as the voice, but as the one who listens, arranges, and commits the message to writing with clarity and care.

​

My use of the language model in my workflow reflects that posture—I use it not as a source of theology or revelation, but as a digital Baruch, a tool that responds to dictation, that polishes, that preserves. Like the historical scribe, it waits on the voice of the prophet, organizing what has already been given through study, prayer, and covenant understanding. The language model does not teach me truth—it helps me carry it faithfully to the page.

​

When I invoke the name Baruch the Scribe, I picture the ancient scene: the prophet walking the floor in the burden of the Word, speaking from the depths of divine fire, while the scribe sits nearby—ready, disciplined, and silent—committing each word to scroll. That image grounds me. It reminds me that this is sacred work. Not the product of modern convenience, but the continuation of a covenant tradition. The real fire still comes from above. Baruch only helps prepare the scroll.

​

My Covenant Journey

To understand why we approach Scripture with such care and conviction, let me share how YHWH brought us to these covenant insights through a lifetime of searching.

​

The First Call

My earliest memory of God happened when I was about four or five. My three older sisters were excited about going to Sunday School for the first time. When I asked where they were going, one looked at me with shining eyes and said, "To meet Jesus." Something exploded in my little heart, I knew instantly that I wanted to meet Him too. That longing has never completely left me.

​

Religious Tradition and Early Doubts

After my father's dramatic conversion from alcoholism (saved by God's voice telling him to jump between two cars that would have crushed him), we became church people. We landed in a Missionary Baptist church that practiced closed communion, claimed to be the only "true Bride of Christ," and required "moving your letter" to join another congregation.

​

Even as a child, this felt wrong. I couldn't accept that Jesus would close His Table to His own people. The hypocrisy deepened when they taught replacement theology, that God had cast aside Israel, while simultaneously supporting modern Zionism. They preached fear-based "rapture" theology that terrified me into walking the aisle repeatedly, getting "saved" and baptized multiple times because I was never sure if it had "taken."

​

I had a simple, childlike relationship with Jesus, but institutional religion was burying Him under layers of fear and man-made traditions.

​

Wilderness and Pursuit

By my teens, doubt crept in. When I asked why miracles no longer happened, the answer was always "dispensations", God did those things back then but not anymore. That felt hollow and dead.

​

I joined the Army at seventeen to escape it all. But during artillery school at Ft. Sill, desperation drove me to a Bible in an empty day room. The pages seemed blank to me, and terror filled me, had God abandoned me? That became a turning point. I realized I couldn't run from Him. Even in Germany where I lived wild and free, His Spirit kept pursuing me.

​

Ministry, Heartbreak, and Dark Seasons

When I met Polly, we threw ourselves into ministry, leading youth, witnessing, serving as crusade counselors. But denominational politics killed what God was trying to do. Then came devastating heartbreak: two close friends I had led to Christ later committed suicide. The guilt nearly broke my faith.

Things worsened when Polly's family sent her to a "missionary Bible college" where she endured spiritual abuse from Joseph Carroll, an Australian preacher who believed he was God's "special" man with a private line to the throne who told her she was "demonized" because of our relationship. While she was gone, I drifted in darkness.

​

We eventually married, I focused on career, and we coasted spiritually for years.

​

The Breakthrough

About ten years ago, everything changed with a simple observation: Easter and Passover were a month apart that year. I asked, "What's the difference?" What I received was a major download that rewrote my soul, the true meaning of the sign of Jonah, the real chronology of three days and three nights, the appointed times of God.

​

The scales fell from my eyes. For the first time, I understood the difference between the Book of the Covenant (those Ten Words spoken directly by YHWH as marriage vows) and the Book of the Law (added because of transgression). I had lived under law-based religion; now I was tasting covenant freedom.

​

Walking in Obedience

Since that breakthrough, I've walked a lonely path outside the mainstream. Much of my deeper understanding came from studying Michael Rood's "Chronological Gospels," which opened up the precise 490-day timing of Messiah's ministry.

​

I have maybe eight to twelve people who follow my writings regularly. It's lonely sometimes, but I don't write for numbers, I write out of obedience. The covenant remnant has always been small. Noah had his family. Abraham was called alone. Numbers don't validate covenant; obedience does.

​

Still His

I'm 67 now. Polly's retired, our son Seth is a major in the Army on his own spiritual path. The institutions I once trusted are crumbling, but the covenant remains. Yeshua's Table is still open to all who love Him. His Bride is every true believer. The appointed times still declare His faithfulness.

​

Looking back, I can see His hand in every season, the childhood proposal, the wilderness pursuit, the blood and heartbreak that forged my faith, and finally the revelation that tore away tradition's veil. This careful approach to Scripture emerges from that journey. It's His faithfulness, not my achievement. Through it all, I'm still His, and He's still mine.