On Being a "Prototype"

Being the firstborn, sometimes I feel like a prototype. With my neck too long; my back too long; my legs too short; and my bones too thin, why shouldn't I? It's as if my parents didn't know what they were doing when they were in the "throes of passion" and the way I came out was just the accidental fruit of their union.

When people notice and remark about those physical "inadequacies" of mine, I most often don't get offended. (That's like 99.99% of the time that I don't.) In fact, I crack up that joke on my being a prototype to them. That makes them laugh, too.

Perhaps I am a prototype in the sense that it was my parents' first time to copulate and produce an offspring. But I am confident that nothing about M.E. is accidental. And, that in the light of eternity and of God's omniscience, I know that He has "preordained" my existence and has a purpose for M.E. to fulfill in this world.