Oh the irony of it all

I am not a person who prizes physical touch or emotional intimacy. In fact, if I had my druthers, I would prefer to live without it. (No gain, no pain) Personal space is my goal. **However I remember that as one who is born again by God's saving Grace through His Son Jesus Christ, I am called to love others as myself, and so put my desire to avoid pain aside and trust that God will equip me for what He has called me to do, and He will never fail to hold me in His strong and faithful care** Having said that, I'm sure you'll pick up on the irony that over the last three years I have been poked, prodded, probed, cut apart and sewn back together by doctors(many doctors. strangers who are doctors), their equipment, even their cameras. I now know what the interior of my bladder looks like in real time (and so do two other people; who were strangers -at the time-). Today I saw my Urologist who is MOVING way too far away for me to still get to see him. Which means, I have to meet an entirely new Urologist who will most certainly want to do a physical exam of his/her own in order to continue the follow up that is required for the NEXT three years. AND in order to get the new referral, I have to go back to my Primary Care Manager who is also a stranger(cause they change out often) and explain the very personal details of how I know that the tip of my urethra hurts when someone touches it. (Somehow in cyberspace, it doesn't feel so loathsome to share. Maybe because you're not staring at me.) Oh the irony of it all. Perhaps I have become such a good evangelist that God wants to keep giving me opportunities to share the Good News with new people. Uh. No. I am not so good of an evangelist, but God continues to give me the opportunity to try anyway.