Stories From My Garden: Dancing Queen's Facemask Fourth Monthly Check-Up

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Dancing Queen's Facemask Fourth Monthly Check-Up

Dancing Queen's check-up regarding her Facemask intervention with Dr. Magao...

Praise our great God because her Facemask will be worn on a MUCH SHORTER length of time from now on!

Development and protrusion of her upper jaw bone has been very good, so much so that her Impala bands were changed to Fox bands -- orthodontic bands which are softer and less painful than the Impala ones.

God is truly merciful and good. Our prayers are once again, answered. He is to be praised forever.

Give thanks to the LORD,
for he is good;
his love endures forever.
Psalm 106:1; 107:1

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God's Bouquet

You must bloom where you are planted,
In the garden we call life,
And bring some special beauty,
To each corner where there's strife.
Perhaps you're but a dandelion,
Wishing you were a rose,
Yet in this place of growingthings,
You're the one God chose.
It's up to you to finish,
What the good Lord has begun,
By growing just the way youshould,
And face each day's new rising sun.
There's room for you if you choose,
To be in a glorious array,
Of beauty from God's garden,
That He'll add to His bouquet.

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:--
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed -- and gazed -- but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

William Wordsworth (1815)