Quote courtesy of Desiring God.

…Just thought you should know.

Thank you.

Boo bear would totally agree with this one. Right boo bear?

Ok, they must know the inside of my head!!!

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There are two people in this world whom I have crossed paths with in some undetermined way but have yet to meet. Let me introduce you to Leroy and Myra.

Leroy is quite the popular fellow but he must be handing out business cards with the wrong phone number on them because I get at least two phone calls for him a week! So far, all I have gathered is that he is from Tallahassee. He must be in some sort of sales…. you know, with all those random folks calling all the time. I always get excited when my phone rings and it is an 850 number that I do not have saved. I always know I will pick up the phone and get a “Leroy der?” to which I always reply, “nope, sorry. Wrong number”. I hope I get to meet Leroy one day (at a public place in broad day light, with my new Swiss Army knife and pepper spray in tow).

Now Myra, she must have the wrong address on her business card because I get all her mail. Thing is, it’s not her bills or personal correspondence, it’s all her advertisements. I am not sure where Myra is from but I do know that she is currently pregnant. Thanks to her, my mailbox is littered daily with complimentary pregnancy and parenting magazines, coupons for diapers and most recently, a sample box of formula. What am I even supposed to do with that? I feel bad that Myra is missing out on all her freebies. I hope that wherever she is, her and her baby are safe… and that they tell the post office where the heck they reside.

Before Leroy and Myra, there was Francis Mejilla. She used to get calls to my 305 number almost as often as Leroy. I think Myra was in some sort of credit trouble. I hope she sorted that out.

How about you? Do you have your own Leroy or Myra or Francis?

My favorite moment in hot yoga comes right before my least favorite moment in hot yoga. After a greuling, yet purifying 85 minutes of bending, stretching and balancing in 108 degree temperature with 70% humidity, we get to lay down and take a Savasana (corpse pose).

At this point Suzanne or John (depends who’s teaching) talks you through some relaxation and then (here it comes!) they open the two french doors of the studio, which lead to an outside courtyard. As I lay there, heart beating all over my body, I start to feel the *cool* Tallahassee air trickling its way into the studio, over our bodies. That’s the moment.

Without fail, the first tingling of the fresh air touching me brings a smile to my face. Because, it feels like home to me.

I spent the summer of 2006 in London, living in Flat 13 with some of my best friends. In Flat 13, we didn’t have air conditioning. It was on the fourth floor of a building with no elevator and crickety, unbalanced stairs. Some days, when the entrance to our building was locked [don't ask], we’d have to go in the building next door, walk down two flights of stairs, do some underground manuevering, walk up two flights, go through a maze, then face the four flights to get home.

Needless to say, when carrying groceries or after a few cocktails, this was no easy feat [but sometimes it really was so fun, especially with the cocktails part].

But at the end of all the stealth moves to get home, there was the promise of windows to open. Hot and defeated, the cool city air always changed our outlook. At night we’d fall asleep with our windows open, listening to lullabies of London’s noise and we loved it. It was our summer home. Home to a summer I will never forget.

So if you’re ever walking around during Savasana and catch a glimpse of the curious grin on my face, know that it is because I’ve been taken back to one of the best times of my life. And I’ll take anything that takes me there.

Court, Me & KJ in Oxford. We happened to be there on graduation day. We rented a boat and cruised down the river with a bottle of wine in tow. I steered us straight into the wall behind us and a chunk of it fell into the river.

Court and I in front of the Thames river on one of our first days there.

We took a 9-hour ferry to Ibiza. Courtney was sick and we had to take her to the clinic. I got to translate. Here we are after her release.

PS- If youre wondering what my least favorite moment in yoga is, it’s a minute into the Savasana. Usually we take a 5-minute long corpse pose and about 1 minute into it, I’m ready to go. I get very ADD laying there playing dead.

I used to think it was silly to pray for the little things. Like I was wasting God’s time if I prayed for good weather or a good time during an event. I felt like all these trivial things would take away from God’s time and ability to take care of others (oh how selfless of me, I should get a first class ticket to heaven). I even resented it when others would pray for things that I did not deem to be big or important enough. This whole thought process was flipped upside down after a recent conversation with a friend. He told me he used to share the same feelings about praying for small things, until he read Psalm 37:23-24.

The Lord directs the steps of the godly.
      He delights in every detail of their lives.
 ²⁴ Though they stumble, they will never fall,
      for the Lord holds them by the hand. 

Did you see that second line? He delights in every detail of (our) lives! Every one! And how ridiculous of me to think that my petty requests could really interfere with the time and ability of an all powerful, omnipresent Lord! My lack of prayer for certain things highlights how small my view of God can sometimes be. I need to present my requests, big or small, to God, through prayer and with thanksgiving and have no doubt in his capability to answer them!

So this brings me to my first would-have-been-too-small-to-pray-for-but-now-I-get-it request. Dear Lord, please help me find my Invisalign. Dr. Willis gave me my next set to spare me a visit to his office. I have no clue of course, what I did with them. I pray you help me to remember where I put them. Thank you.

What do you think? Is there such thing as a prayer request that is too small?

Dear Melissa’s Kickboxing Class Go-Ers,

Hello friends! It’s been almost a year since I last wrote to you (read my last letter). There are a few things on my mind that I’ve been wanting to share for a while now but I couldn’t quite find the words. So, with a little help from my lovely friend and avid kickboxer, Teri, here goes nothin.

To The Sweaters:

Please stray from wearing anything thin and/or grey; especially as bottoms. The light grey biker shorts you’re rocking are not working out for you- or me frankly. Squat jumps require an unecessary amount of concentration for me and the gaping sphere of sweat that appears on your toosh when you bend makes it all the more difficult to achieve. If you want to wear cotton biking shorts, at least make them black. Much appreciated.

To The Bra-less Wonders:

Wow, you are a rare breed. And one I’ve yet to understand. Being a woman, I can’t fathom doing much without the support of a sports bra so how you jump, squat, push-up and run without one is beyond me. I don’t know what you’re trying to achieve here but the only thing I can come up with is you’re trying to make us all uncomfortable. Seriously, whether your boobs are big or small or real or fake or young or old or perky or not- we don’t want to see them. Strap them in!

You Weight Hoggers:

Grrrr. I want to say you suck but I won’t. Here’s the deal, this is a class at a community center; not Premier fitness. If you want to be entitled to having three sets of weights all to yourself, go somewhere else and pay more. Some of us don’t get out of work until 5:30 so when we get there at 5:35 and all the weights are gone, it is disheartening. You only have two arms. That means you only need two weights. Two weights = one set. You following?  Share the love. Thanks. XOXO.

To The Boys Corner:

I don’t stand near you but I sometimes walk by and it’s smelly over there. Please consider wearing shirts with sleeves. You’re past the age where cutoff shirts are appropriate anyway. Oh wait. Cutoff shirts are never appropriate. So, yeah. Clean shirt, with sleeves = happy campers around you. Sorry to be brash, I still think you’re really cool for coming. Keep up the solid work.

To The European Minded:

Please wear deoderant. Every day. Merci!

To the Intense Dude Who Stares at Teri:

Please stop. You distract her! Why do you have to look so intense anyway? Are you a robot? Any why do you bend your pinkies on every move but keep the rest of your hands open? Sometimes, I play staring contest with you. But you’re staring at Teri so you don’t know. Even so, you win. Ease up dude.

Girls With Back of the Thigh Muscles:

I’m still pushing, trying to look like you but I am a quitter. I lack discipline and endurance. I take five water breaks to your one and I procure lame excuses to leave class early some times (a lot of times). I need a pep talk from you. Teri has now entered this elite group (although she would ferverently argue that). Some of you have now had two babies since I started going and you disappear for a week then come back looking as if your pregnancy never happened. A girl can only hope… (well, and get off my butt and work harder, I suppose).

Summer is coming, or already here on some days. Class is only going to get more gruesome. I am looking forward to it but if you aforementioned folks could just succumb to my suggestions, it’d make our weekly gatherings just that much more enjoyable. Thanks in advance for your consideration.

Love,

Jovi

{PS, don’t anyone be offended please. I know I’ve been guilty of some of these things (not really). But seriously, I am not immune. Feel free to poke fun at me, too }

Ash, Amy, Ter, Eric, Ryan, Lynn, Sarah, Kristin, Rebecca, Grace, Meghan, Carolyn- Did I miss anything?

This morning as I was pulling in to work, I saw a homeless man walking across our parking lot. His button down shirt was mostly unbuttoned, his shoes were too big and he was carrying a big blue blanket on his shoulders. I thought about the breakfast and mid-afternoon snacks hanging out in my purse. I really was looking forward to them. Some conviction from Don’t Waste Your Life (Click to download a free copy) settled in and I apprehensively approached the man, ready to give up my carefully planned snacks.

“Excuse me”, I said. No reaction. I got closer. “Excuse me”. The man turned slowly toward me . “Would you like breakfast?”, I asked. “Yes ma’am”, the man answered, “Whataburger is just up the road,” he continued.  To that, I shared, “Well, I have a banana and some yogurt and jello in my purse” as I pulled them out. “Oh no thanks, I’m alright,” says the homeless man.

I happen to find homeless people all the time and usually have food to give them or I go buy some and bring it to them. This is the first time I was turned down. Not even a courtesy take? Come on, brother. Jello is soooo good. Oh well. Hope he got his breakfast burrito.

“If there is a poor man among your brothers in any of the towns of the land that the LORD your God is giving you, do not be hardhearted or tightfisted toward your poor brother.” Deuteronomy 15:7

“If a man shuts his ears to the cry of the poor, he too will cry out and not be answered.” Proverbs 21:13

“A generous man will himself be blessed, for he shares his food with the poor.” Proverbs 22:9