The note that cheered me up

JB dictated this email to Carla for me today. It made my whole day, so I thought I'd share.

Hi Karen,

What are you doing today? Are you doing pre-school today? And it is April Fool’s Day. And don’t forget you have chickens on your head and April Fools! And bawk a bawk a bawk. And I love that Karen, and I think I am going to go blahhhhhh.

I’m sorry that you lost your Grandma Ruth. And Carla is here today and I would love Carla to take me on the ride with the 2-wheeler. But I don’t know so I’m going to need a couple of bike lessons but I want to roller skate so I’m going to need some roller-skate lessons from Carla. But I love Carla, so bye.

Love, JB

I can’t wait to see you when you get here!!!! Byejjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb

John Byron Westfallkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk,…………………………………………………….iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

Those K’s are for KK, and the I don’t know what the I’s are for. <--Carla wrote that part obviously.

For the joy of human love

I really like spending time with my grandparents.

Wait.

Let me start over.

I LOVE spending time with my grandparents. Every time I go home I spend hours with them, and the time always goes by too fast. Because of the nature of things right now, I know I have been especially cherishing time with grandma. I struggle seeing her declining health and with each visit home seeing a little more of the grandma I remember slip away. But when I hold her hand and look her in the eye, steady, she nods, and I know it's her. Seeing her this way makes me miss her, and I miss grandpa a lot. I hate change, but I know that's the only constant thing in life.

I visited my nonni and nonno as well when I was home for Easter weekend. Sometimes I take for granted the long talks around the kitchen table in a warm kitchen that smells of biscotti, drinking cappucino and talking to them about everything from Ellie's friends at school, life in Weed when they were growing up, life in C camp, at the mill, company picnics, how nonni's mom used to feed hobo's from the train in their front yard, how nonno never got the guts to ask nonni's dad if he could date nonni- nonni had to do it, to the price of gas and produce, and the ever consistent topic of choice: the weather. I love them so much and we are constantly assured of their love for us.

I praise God for my family.

Sometimes (like tonight) I get impatient for heaven.

Self-applause creeps in

I will spare you my full rantings about this topic, but to enlighten you a bit as to why I chose to post this poem, I will share a brief bit of information with you. First, you need to know that lately I've been very fed up with how self-centered people are, especially people within my age range. It's probably because I'm surrounded by it in my collegiate environment, having the idea of "me first" shoved in my face all the time. It may be subtly done, but lately to me it's written all over everyone's faces in thick, black ink. I know the reason I think about this frequently is because I am just as guilty of it as I see everyone else is. I think it sticks out to me because of my acute recognition of this "me first" approach in myself, and the immediate effect of disgust that follows.

When I was home over spring break, my grandma asked me to sing her a hymn called "There Is A Fountain Filled With Blood." I love (most) hymns (My Shepherd Will Supply My Need is my favorite! FYI), but strangely I had never heard this one. As I sang it, the words resonated with me, and I noted who the author was: William Cowper. I subsequently looked him up and read a bunch of his other hymns and poetry. This poem, "Jehovah Our Righteousness," painted such an ugly, truthful, beautiful picture of what I felt in regard to putting myself first, and letting pride dictate, that I just wanted to share it.

Also, if you have time, you should read some of William Cowper's other poems.

Jehovah Our Righteousness


My God, how perfect are Thy ways!

But mine polluted are;

Sin twines itself about my praise,

And slides into my prayer.

When I would speak what Thou hast done

To save me from my sin,

I cannot make Thy mercies known,

But self-applause creeps in.

Divine desire, that holy flame

Thy grace creates in me;

Alas! impatience is its name,

When it returns to Thee.

This heart, a fountain of vile thoughts.

How does it overflow,

While self upon the surface floats,

Still bubbling from below.

Let others in the gaudy dress

Of fancied merit shine;

The Lord shall be my righteousness,

The Lord forever mine.