Being Different

There’s an old advertising jingle we used to sing when we were kids. It’s from some bank in South Carolina. “I’m different, and don’t care who knows it. Something about me, is not the same. Yeah. I’m different and that’s how it goes…ain’t gonna play no white sheep- games.”

That little jingle has been running through my mind today. Again, I’m reminded that we are different. Food allergies have done that to us.

We went somewhere with a group of friends and their kids. It was great- until beautifully decorated Christmas cookies were passed out to each kid. It was such a sweet gesture… unless your child has life threatening food allergies to dairy and eggs. Then it’s terrifying. Cookies in small children’s hands= crumbs. Life threatening crumbs. Am I being dramatic? No. Not at all.

Most of the kids did not eat the cookies. But there were a few scattered crumbs so I held SG in my lap protectively. There were tears in my eyes threatening to spring forth. The food was unexpected. I wasn’t prepared. But isn’t that part of life? It broke my heart when the lady offered SG a cookie, I whispered in SG’s ear, and she said, “No, thank you.” I’m so glad I had a fruit strip in my purse to give her. But it’s not the same. Not even close.

It hurts me that she is different. That she will face this most likely her entire life. That her guard (and mine) will always have to be up. It just plain stinks. But I have to remind myself she is “fearfully and wonderfully made” by the God of the Universe. The Creator of all things. He does not make mistakes. I will continue to trust Him with this most precious gift He has given us, our only child.