Dear Jason,

I've been with you for all of your life. I was even there with you before you were born. I've kept quiet all this time, but I cannot be silent anymore.

You've been mistreating me for so many years. You run into things constantly, things that you should know are there, like door frames and tables that don't move. You drop things, and who is there to catch them but your feet? You even hit yourself with your keys subconsciously. What's with that?

And your diet.... You know you're lactose intolerant. Why do you insist on eating cheese, pudding, and ice cream? Do you think that just because you stopped drinking milk that you'll be covered? You can't even do that right. Chocolate milk still counts.

And you know you're out of shape. Where is the logic in saying, "I'll eat 2 bowls of pho and then play 2 hours of ultimate"? That's wrong on a couple levels, my friend. Why would you fill up on that Vietnamese rice noodles goodness and then run around as if you were Usain Bolt? You can barely handle that when you're not full of Asian deliciosity.

I'm supposed to be a temple of the Holy Spirit of God! Is that how you treat the temple of God? I'm not against you running around. In fact, I want you to. Just know your limits. It hurts me the next couple days when you do that. Or maybe start exercising, so it won't be that bad when you play. God gave you the temple. Don't wear it down; build it up! Seriously, you'll thank me later.

Love,

Your Body