Stories From My Garden: DS's 14th Year

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

DS's 14th Year

Today marks my DS's 14th birthday. He is now definitely a budding and intelligent teenager. I praise you, dear Lord, for our son, who is a big blessing to us. Continue to help us along the way, to raise him according to Your will, and to follow the blueprint that You have created long ago for him. Please prepare me and DH, to help and guide M achieve his purpose in life, to glorify and honor you with the work of his hands... always and forever.

May you always have work for your hands to do.
May your pockets hold always a coin or two.
May the sun shine bright on your windowpane.
May the rainbow be certain to follow each rain.
May the hand of a friend always be near you.
And may God fill your heart with gladness to cheer you.
Irish Blessing

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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)