It’s that time of the year again. No not the back to school time of the year, although that certainly is the case. Not the most wonderful time of the year. Not even the time for your New Year resolutions. Nope. Just that time of the year when allergies hit. Itchy eyes, scratchy throat, the works. Might as well pull out my black rimmed glasses and wear a cardigan for stowing away tissues in the front pocket. And can I just say that sneezing while wearing a mask is by no means an enjoyable experience.
Yet every year I can anticipate the inevitable. Albeit I may forgot for a moment. Those moments when I don’t feel the woes of allergy season, but then in one swiftly moving day, magically towards the end of August, my cheek bones suddenly find themselves doused in peppermint oil and I am putting local honey on just about everything, from an english muffin to yogurt. Mind you, I’ll take any home remedy that doesn’t make me want to curl up in a nap at 1 o’clock in the afternoon.
I can trust that such is not to be my physical state forever, or even for very long, considering that come October I have just about forgotten about those hard working honey bees. I don’t live in the nagging apprehension of next August, and I’ve come to simply accept my rather meager, common place ailment. Except I would be dishonest if I did not admit my frustration at their return. Apart from the fact that my allergies are cramping on my favorite time of the year: The return of Autumn. Enveloped with my savoring of pumpkin bread, sweaters for layering, sheepskin lined boots, and brilliant color. August tauntingly sprinkles in a few cooler days and camp fire ready nights, to where I find myself lured by all that sits on the horizon.
And then, bam. Allergies.
Jordan has needed to remind me that I can’t simply have everything. Granted, I should know better.
When I was in middle school, I recall so desperately wanting a horse that my dad assured me that if the corn field just behind our 3-acre country plot went up for sale, then we could have a horse. I prayed every evening for that cornfield for what was most likely months. My petitions are even documented, noted rather plainly in my daily, journaled letters to God.
PS. God, please let us have the cornfield so we can get a horse.
Well, that cornfield never went up for sale, and to my Dad’s credit, he truly would have expanded our family’s property if the opportunity was presented. Or at least I still believe that to this day.
Except not all things in life are attainable, no matter how badly you want them. Instead, those very pieces of excitement and petition become nagging reminders that we can’t have everything.
Autumn will still present itself, and the peak of color will be joyously memorable, but you might still need to experience all that you love with watery eyes and a runny nose. You can suppress it, you can medicate it, you can even forget about it for a while, but at various points, the discouragement you feel in those moments when it would seem to matter the most will find their way again. And you will do what you can to ensure the peppermint oil and honey are running over enough to help you find the stamina to carry through.
EXPOSITION: Allergies. What are yours? What reminds you that you simply can’t have it all?
RISE: Honey. From where is it flowing? Friendships, your spouse, a good book, walks through the forest, prayer. And not just one fountain, but a plethora. A source of relief when you are discouraged by what is not.
DENOUEMENT: Gracious words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones. (Proverbs 16:24)