Dear Homeschooling Friends,

I am listening to the voice of Maria Callas right now. Her voice transforms my dirty dorm room, transforms the time that passes, recalls to me a sense of my life. And in her voice I hear what I want to call - and can only call - silence.

Harvest moon
Rise east of gloom,
October loom
Spin misty blooms
Sing leaves to swim
Blow breezes in
Throw acorns out
Let chipmunks shout
Weave wistful clouds
Sweep willows wild
Glow haunted gold
And pock-marked bold
Freeze-bitten old,
Oh, October harvest moon.

My first writing assignment this year was to write a history of my career as a writer. Here is the result!

In the way of the Lord
We will stand together
Through trials and fears
We forge through the weather
The strength of the Lord is ours
In Him we will persevere
In Jesus' name the devil cowers
So we lift up this land
In the name of our God

Together in Christ we stand
To fight for what is ours
Burning the Fire
The Fire burning
The Fire of Truth devours the land
Raging, cleansing
The kingdom of darkness is falling
And we can taste our victory!

There have been many times
While walking this way
That it's been hard to distinguish
The night from the day
And just now, in my life
I have come to a place
Where I'm straining to see
What's in front of my face

You said You'd never leave me
But if that promise is true
How come all I can ask now
Is "God, where are you?"
I'm reaching for you and
Though I've searched all around
No matter how hard I look
You're nowhere to be found

~My Heart~

Just now, when you asked for a bit of my heart,
What was the reason for my reply?
I'm sure you are wond'ring why my answer was no,
So now I shall tell you why.

My heart, you see, is not mine to give,
It belongs to our God up above.
At this time in my life, it is Him, you know,
With whom I am deep in love.

Do not be hurt when I tell you this,
Please do not distract me from Him.
For He gave His own precious life to save,
What with words you have tried to win.

I wonder if I'll still have the friends I have now. I wonder if we'll spend our lives together or if after a few years, maybe even months, all go our seperate ways, or leave one by one.

I'm scared of us all growing up. Worrying about college, cars, jobs, houses, marriage, and everything else. some of us are already worrying about these.

I realize we cant joke about extremely stupid things and chat on AOL forever.

I leave the street, the crowded cobbles
and cheap shops, the color and confusion.
Dusky, dim, the narrow stairs
wend their way, silent and steep,
up high into dusty solitude.
The others come, and one by one
we climb upward. Our feet follow
the curving course of the many steps.
Strong stone crowds closely in,
blocking the sunbeams from the door below.
Still spiraling skywards, the stair broadens.
The clomp of our shoe-clad feet softly echoes
on the now-wooden steps as we climb.
Up and up, and farther still

One of God's most wonderful gifts is color. Lately I have been fascinated by color, especially how different colors create different feelings. Red, orange, and yellow make things look warm, even hot. They remind me of autumn. Green blue and purple are colder colors. White makes things look lighter, and black is the opposite.

Fame is knowing you would do anything in your power to make your foot point a little farther. It's knowing that you danced hard when you come out of class with blisters on your ankles, and your abs are burning, with sweat dripping from your messed up hair. It's knowing that your feet are the toughest part of your body.