Dear “I Have Food Allergies”, (that is what you call yourself, isn’t it?)
You know me. You’ve known me for a long time. So I’ll skip the introduction. I’m very efficient, after all. I made sure you couldn’t go to that camp-out a few years ago ’cause your friends might eat snacks in the tent. Remember?
I’m just writing this friendly reminder – call it a courtesy – to make sure you don’t forget I’m here. That would not be good. I don’t want any harm to come to you. After all, I can’t help that this fragile human body of yours is so offended by wheat. I’m just . . . here. So don’t blame me. After all, you may call yourself a victim of circumstances, but I’m a faithful friend.
Remember when I kept you from meeting new people because you were afraid of me and my partner-in-crime, Anaphylaxis? You don’t need anyone else. You’ve got me, right? I’m about as faithful a friend as you can get. I’m always with you. Everywhere you go. That little voice in the back of your head.
You have to tell people “I have food allergies” so often, I’m starting to feel quite honored. I thank you.
Dear Food Allergies,
You’re right in that you’re faithful. You’re right in that I can’t forget. But since we’re gonna be stuck with each other for a good long time, I suggest you remember your place and stay in it.
You mentioned a “fragile human body,” and you’d be right. I’m imperfect. I’ve got you to prove it. But I’m fearfully and wonderfully made. God doesn’t make mistakes.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.Psalm 139:14
You suggested that my name is “I have food allergies,” and you’d be wrong. My name is Child of God. Beloved. Set Free. Chosen. Redeemed. (Need I go on?)
But, I have to admit, you were right on when you said you kept me from a camp-out, slumber parties, meeting new people, and a whole lot of other things. I’d like that to start changing. I’d like to be able to thrive with food allergies. You know I’m working on it. Maybe you’ll be able to stop me, but I don’t think so.
Because Anxiety is another one of your partners-in-crime, and he’s not welcome here anymore.
You may be with me forever, but I don’t find my identity in you. My identity is in Jesus.
Nice chatting with you,
Not Yours, But God’s
As a teen with severe food allergies, I can say that oftentimes, our struggle becomes our identity. This should not be. We can learn to thrive while still accepting and living with the struggle. So believe me when I say, you are fearfully and wonderfully made!
You have searched me, Lord, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely. You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.Psalm 139:1-6 NIV
Your turn! What would a letter to your food allergy look like? What would you say?