1982 was a pivotal year in my life. I was in second grade, and I transferred to my neighborhood school in the middle of the year. I remember being very excited to start at my new school, as I already knew several classmates from Sunday school. I would also meet other children who would be apart of my class through high school graduation.
Kyle Sullivan was one of those students. Because he was tall and strong, teachers would often ask Kyle to push my chair and me. He tells stories of wheeling me to the resource room or to the bathroom. I don’t remember those times, but it left a big impression on Kyle. Middle and high school is even more fuzzy…I can’t even place Kyle in my mind’s eye, yet I know he was around. We ran in different crowds.
Through the years, I’d often wondered what happened to Kyle. I think I imagined him having a blue-collar job…a police officer, firefighter, managing a restaurant. Know what? Kyle doesn’t have a job like that. The tall kid who used to push my wheelchair is a pastor!
Kyle and I found each other on Facebook a few years ago and discovered our mutual l love for the Lord, and I was able to share my passion for disability ministry with him. Introduced him to my mentor, Mary Jane.
Mary Jane and I were able speak at Kyle’s church this past Sunday and began a dialog with Kyle and his staff about disability ministry. We were well received. Kyle is excited about the possibilities for his church as well as for others. During one of our meetings, Mary Jane looked at me and said, “You now have your Aaron. Go to work.”
We all have those times when we think, “If I only knew then what I know now…” One of my big eureka moments in ministry is when I understood how slow ministry can be. When I first started in church relations, I thought it’d be high paced with working with churches every week. I get frustrated when I go months with out speaking at church or to a pastor thinking it’s up to me to make things happen.
It has taken Kyle and I three years to put something together for his church. I’m learning to be okay when things don’t progress the way I would like them to be. It’s God’s work, after all. I just get to be apart of it.