On the Inevitable Seasonal Gluten Free Meltdown

I had one of those days the other day.

If you've been gluten free for more than fifteen minutes, you know the kind of day I'm talking about.

All I wanted in the world was to be a normal eater. No intolerances. No restrictions. Sigh.

It's the holiday season, so there are obviously lots of parties and get-togethers and what have you. There are beautiful spreads of Christmas cookies and holiday delicacies and other festive fare.

I just wanted to eat what everyone else was eating.

I wanted to be normal so badly.

At the end of one party, I sat down on the couch next to my sports watching husband, and began a weepy tirade.

"I am still not ready for my meetings tomorrow, and next week is going to be really, really busy, and I can't find my Kindle, and there are two typos in the bulletin that I should have caught and I hate typos, and I meant to fold the laundry today and just never did, and both cats need a bath because they smell weird, and I haven't wrapped a single Christmas present yet, and..."

He listened sympathetically, as he always does, waiting for what it was that was actually bothering me to come to the surface.

"...and ...and ...and I just want to eat normal food with everyone else! If I could just have a Christmas cookie everything would be FINE!"


Ah, the inevitable, seasonal gluten free meltdown.

We do okay most of the time, don't we? Eating gluten free is no big deal, and we are all thankful for better health.

It's no huge thing to pass by the plate of danishes at work or to eat a bagged lunch when out with colleagues. We've mastered the art of politely declining Aunt Mabel's banana bread and of packing snacks when eating with friends.

But Christmas in America is all about food. Cookies. Ham. Pastries. Candy. More cookies. More pastries. More ham.

Every once in awhile it gets to me.

I want a cookie, too.

After a busy day, I want to be able to order pizza from the place down the block, too.

When I'm running between meetings, I want to hit up the McDonald's drive through for some fries, too.

I want to try that fudge, sample that cornbread, nibble that Christmas cake, and toss back a handful of those chocolate covered pretzels.

I want to snack on a cube of cheese from the cheese plate without asking a bajillion questions first.

It's the normalcy I miss the most.

I'm doing my best to give this, too, over to Jesus, but sometimes my gluten free Scrooge side wins out.

Other times I remember that this is what Advent is about. No, not the angsty gluten free meltdowns, but the waiting. Waiting for all things to be made new. Waiting for Jesus to come again and restore what is broken, including the bodies of those of us who suffer from food intolerances, chronic illnesses, and all other ailments.

And in those moments I am even a smidgen grateful that I am gluten intolerant, because it gives me just the tiniest bit of insight into what it is to "mourn in lonely exile here, until the Son of God appears." Hourly reminders that not all is right with the world, but that that is exactly why Jesus came and why he promises to come again.

O Come, Lord Jesus!

What is your holiday gluten free rant? What helps you through the food-laden holidays? Or are you doing better than I am at managing your Christmas cookie angst?

Photos borrowed from The Party FAQ.com, Blog-U,