Pin went to a new acupressurist yesterday.
His name is Steve (real name, Hong). He is an hour away and I have no idea what he did to Pinny. Literally, like no idea. He touched her stomach for two seconds and then proclaimed "No dyes. Never." It was as if he was channeling 4,000 years of Chinese medicine to make that statement and I hung on his every word. So, add it to the list of things she can't consume and we will add Steve to the list of people who have touched our daughter.
Both lists are long:
-No gluten, no dairy, no sugar, no soy, no dye.
-Neurologists, geneticists, physical therapists, rib cage specialists, swim therapists, developmental therapists, cranial sacral therapists, neurological chiropractors (four to be exact), holistic dentists, genetic counselors, neurological reorganization practitioners, naturopathic pediatricians, prism eye specialists, head shaping people and now, acupressurists.
The people that have come (and gone) into our lives are brilliant, leaders in their field, out-of-the box thinkers. They are not dictated by space, time nor location. Dr. Wells', our current holistic pediatrician, office hours are Mon/Wed/Fri from 8:00-10:00. PM, that is. And she is an hour and a half away. We are so grateful for the love, care and expertise that many have poured into Pinny. But, truthfully, she is three and still not sitting up on her own. Catch me on a good day and I will say this as matter-of-factly as if I were ordering my favorite dish* at my new favorite restaurant. Catch me on a bad day, and the words come out more like a howling lament.
The fact is, we are human. Every single world-renowned neurologist, every prism-eye specialist with five patents to her name, every dungeons-and-dragons-playing cranial sacral therapist, every gay rib cage specialist. We are all human.
At the end of the day, we need a touch from the divine. We know this. We pray daily for this. We walk forward from appointment to appointment recognizing this. We play worship music when we need a better mind-set towards this and meditate on scripture when we need our hearts to feel this. But, something hit me today, in between oxygen therapy and reading on the ramp:
Maybe, just maybe, Jesus is waiting for a touch from me.
"When she heard about Jesus, she came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, because she thought, “If I just touch his clothes, I will be healed.”
*squid ink pasta with crab meat at Dinamo's