Chocolate and coffee, hallelujah!

Yesterday Eva had her first check up with the cardiologist since the last hospital stay. She seems to be doing well. She hasn't had any SVT episodes that we know of since she switched medicine. The doctor even said we don't have to come back for a check up for three months.

The best part of the whole visit though is that the doctor said I can have chocolate and caffeine again (in moderation). Up until this point I had even been trying to avoid decaf because I had been told by one of the residents that since I was breastfeeding the caffeine could cause her to have an SVT episode. It is a cold dark lonely world without chocolate or coffee. So now I can party till dawn like P.Diddy and Ke$ha (and by that I mean have a decaf latte or a diet coke).

I also had a check up this last week and my doctor did an EKG to check if I had WPW. It can be hereditary. My doctor said my EKG looked clean. No verdict yet on Adam...

In other, more important news, Eva tried out her jumperoo for the first time, the sun came out and she got to wear her sun dress for the first time, and her mom is crazy and likes to put big bows on her head.

Giggles.

Wouldn't it be weird if everyone reacted this way to zerberts on the stomach?

Touched

Eva is all wonder and curiosity these days. Touching, grabbing, gumming, and inspecting the world before her. Earlier this week as I was holding her she reached out and felt my face for the first time. Staring in awe as she touched my lips, felt my cheeks, and grabbed my nose. I quickly slapped her hand away and told her not to invade Mommy's personal space. Just Kidding. Who do you think I am? It was actually my favorite moment of the week, watching her smile with delight as my lips puckered and kissed her little fingers.

It is funny how weird adults can be about touching when it is so natural for children. Adam and I cashed in on a gift certificate we had for two massages this weekend. My incredible parents came down from LA to watch Eva while Adam and I had an informal day retreat. We spent the morning journaling and talking through our priorities, values, and long-term desires. Over lunch we talked through our weekly schedule (I'm supposed to be running now on Mon, Wed, and Sat mornings... Laundry and blog updates on Sunday evenings...And an daily bedtime of 10:30....let's see how long this lasts.) After lunch... massages.

Now we got the gift certificate for the massages through groupon.com (A daily email with one killer deal on something in your town.) Our deal was for two massages at a massage therapy school in Pacific Beach for the price of one. Great deal... until you drive up and park off Garnet and remember that parts of PB smell like left over spring break and make you want to avoid touching anything. The outside of the building was dirty and faded. Adam and I spooked ourselves out walking up the dark staircase to the school. I felt like I was in an abandoned building from a Scooby Doo episode. But we got inside and the place was clean, definitely odd, but decent. And as I told Adam earlier, "A massage is a massage, even if its from a toothless meth lady."

Luckily my masseuse was less the toothless-meth type and more the patchouli-I-rode-my-bike-here-and-got-a-deal-on-these-sensible-brown-knit-pants-at-a-thrift-store-in-1998 type. The massage was great, despite the fact that I was creeped out that she had a back pack and a duffle bag sitting on the floor of the massage room. And despite the fact that for the first 20 minutes I kept obsessing over what I would do if I got a massage from someone with a wart on their hand. Now she didn't have any warts. (I inspected her hands as soon as the horrid thought popped in my head.) But even though I was in the clear, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I finally had to give myself a serious lecture to snap out of it or I knew I would ruin the whole experience. In the end I left relaxed, refreshed, and grateful.

I remember my intense and passionate modern dance teacher in college required all the students to get massages as part of their grade in the class. She also would come around during class and touch each of us on the face as we were warming up. She felt strongly that human touch was essential to health and to being a dancer or any kind of artist. People that are held and touched more as children are 75% less likely to end up in jail. I actually just made that statistic up, but I bet something like that is true. Being touched lets us know we are okay. We are human. We are connected. So if you need some peace, go get a massage from patchouli-pants in PB, or go give someone a hug, or come over and visit and let Eva honk your nose.

An Interview from Haiti

One of the most exciting aspects of my job is getting to encourage people to impact our world. Ever since the earthquake struck in Haiti, our church has been coordinating relief efforts with Children of the Nations, providing care for Haitians along the Haiti/Dominican Republic border. Below is a video interview we showed at Flood last Sunday between myself and a doctor who just returned.

Serving in Haiti with Children of the Nations from FloodSanDiego on Vimeo.

Lost.

The year I got married was the same time the show Lost premiered. It actually premiered on my birthday and I have been a fan ever since. Tonight, as I watch the beginning of the end of this great series, I feel like a chapter in the life of our family is coming to a close and a new one is beginning ... or I'm just really overly dramatic. Before you think I'm completely ridiculous, hear me out! Five years ago I was newly married, in grad school, just starting a career in ministry and navigating a new life and community outside of college. Five years later I am comfortably settled into an incredible marriage, received a Masters of Divinity from Bethel Seminary, was licensed as a pastor, helped plant a church in Malawi and saw my family grow by the addition of the cutest little baby girl I know!

A lot of significant milestones have occurred over the last 5 years, yet I find myself asking the same dang questions. Do I matter? Am I valued? Do I measure up?

As I look back at these 5 years, I still feel lost.

Lost in my dreams. Lost in my insecurities. Lost in my loves, hopes and fears.

Yet somehow, amidst my questions and doubts, I know I am found. While I may question, feel insecure, and doubt my place in the world; my identity, value and destiny (luckily) is not defined by me. My Creator tells me I have eternal value. Eternal significance. That I am loved and blessed beyond comprehension. While I may feel lost at times, I know that I am not.

This past weekend, Corrie and I made an audition tape for The Amazing Race. While the chance of getting on that show would be 1 in a million, Corrie and I are going to keep pressing on as we write the next 5 years of our story. Whether that involves an adventurous reality show, additional children, more trips to the hospital, or simply another walk around the block we look forward to what is to come.