Dear Lord with this I now draw near;
A burden given me to bear.
For strength I ask with my whole heart
That I might carry all, not part.

I am faulty, willing but weak,
That is why Your strength I seek.
So on Your Almighty name I call
Lest under this heavy weight, alone, I fall.

But not quite alone for in silence I hear
That still small voice sounding in my ear.
Reassuring, powerful, sweet and strong;
In my aching heart You give me a song.

July 4th, 2009
Dear Journal,
Today was a good day. The Grays invited Mom and I to go to a fireworks display with them. I sat with Josh and Kelly. When the fireworks started Josh tried to hold my hand so I slapped his hand. He said he was just being friendly so I told him that I didn't like that kind of "friendly" and that if he wasn't careful I would have to stop being around him. So he went back to his old way of being friendly, which I like much better. Kelly just glared at him and told him to leave me alone. She's pretty mad at him for the way he treated Courtney.

Math is simple. 1+1=2, 2x2=4, 3-1=2. 4/2=2
Or at least, it is to begin with.
Find the derivative of the following functions: f(x)= (x +sin x)^23
Nobody jumps right from the former to the later. There are steps, processes, from learning the numbers and the basic principles, to decimals and fractions, with lessons in geometry and basic algebra before tackling the rigors of calculus. You have proofs in geometry, listing the rules that allow one to define congruent and similar angles.

June 24th, 2009
Dear Journal,
Mom just told me that she would buy me a phone since I'm gonna be babysitting a lot. She said it would be good to have it, just in case something happens and I need her. I'm glad because people make me nervous. Even nice people. I guess it's because there have been so many bad people in my life, even the ones that started out as nice people. I feel safer when I'm at home alone than I did when someone had to stay with me while Mom worked. I never told Mom because I don't want her to feel bad. She can't help it.
Kennedy

When tears I cry I cry for me,
In selfish pride my tears flow.
I know this doesn't have to be;
It doesn't and this I know.

But when He cried His bitter tears
He wept with grief, not shame.
He payed for sins of all the years,
And still we mocked His name.

Our Lord and Savior took the blow,
He sacrificed His life, in love.
We murmur as we reap and sow,
While He looks pitying from above.

June 12, 2009
Dear Journal,
I made two new friends at the park this afternoon. They were a brother and sister named Josh and Kelly. Josh is 16 and Kelly is 14. They're homeschooled. I figured out that they live three houses down from mom and me so they invited me to hang out at their house tomorrow afternoon for a couple of hours. They have a big pool so we'll probably swim. And Josh said he'd teach me how to skateboard. He's pretty cool.
Kennedy

"The end is the eternal beginning for some, and for others it is yet the eternal ending."
My grandad used to say that to my Daddy back when I was a little kid, and then he would take out his Bible and read from it. My daddy always got mad and left, dragging me along to the truck. Momma always cried when he did that, and looked back at grandad as if to say she was sorry for the mean things daddy said. So that's why we didn't visit Grandad and Gramma very often.

Once upon a time there was a princess. Her name was the symbol of melodic and mystical winds from across the lands of the kingdom. Her mother died when she was five or six and she was left to reign with her father, Eviscus. Eviscus was a king of dark complexion and deep black eyes. Rainne (the princess) was of opposite appearance with warm greyish blue eyes and fawn colored hair. She was a meek and quiet maiden of light, and even in her dark confinement she was a pool of sparkling light in itself.

A bitter wind blows its warning breath,
thunder rolls in angry protest,
I taste the dread; the tempest that is to come.
It feels like a meeting,
a date if you will, with the doomed sky.
Clouds suddenly are torn asunder,
grey visages weeping,
keeping unsteady time with their tears.
Lightning strikes and all is hushed;
for a moment, time stands still.
The clouds begin weeping again,
a silent lament to the inevitable,
waiting for the sun to once again
dry their tears.

Red yellow orange brown and gray;
These are not the colors of May.
Leaves and pine needles on trees so tall,
Yes, these are colors of the melting fall.
Some will say it looks dreary and dead.
They wish for cheerier seasons ahead.
This season of colors so serious and warm
Holds promise of tranquility after the storm.
A symbol of death in beauty falling down;
In piles gathered making a crown.
Death to self given for life from above:
So much less than we give for His love.
Beauty for ashes and joy on the 'morrow;