From a young age there were two very important things, responsibility and caring, that shaped the rest of my life. My mum became a widow in 1958 with six children of whom I was the youngest, nearly two years old. Our dad had left my mum with a shop in the front room of our house and we all had to do our bit to keep everything going.
The older you got, the more responsibility you were given. If you planned something to do with friends, you made sure that jobs you were responsible for had been done. In later years, when two brothers and one sister had become disabled, I still looked out for them even while I was at college or later at my first proper jobs. Care for the family was very important, because I knew that everyone also cared for me according to their ability.
Unfortunately, in the church we attended I felt often excluded. Although I offered to help, I was often told that I couldn’t do that job anyway, because I was small. Luckily for me, I had many friends who went to other churches or didn’t go to church at all.
Meeting my wife Angela, in 1985, was the best thing that happened to me. I had now a good reason to move away from the small (minded) village, the church and anyone else who tried to put obstacles on my path because I was different.
Angela was a Methodist, so I became one too. We both were very much accepted in the circuit we moved to. I first became editor of the church magazine and later steward. We were also active in RGA (Restricted Growth Association) and I did a lot of public speaking to raise Dwarfism awareness.
Someone of the church liked my public speaking and asked me if I was interested in becoming a local preacher. That was my first call to ministry. I accepted and, while I was on trial, it became clear that I couldn’t leave it there. My day job had become tedious with not many real challenges. I also felt that there was more to life than working your socks off for a good salary.
My district put me forward to start the Foundation in Ministry course and during that time, I felt that if I wanted to carry on, the ministry of a deacon was the most suitable for me. Don’t think that I thought about it lightly, because the scars of the church I attended as a child are still there. They are there not to stop me, but to encourage me to show that I can make a difference.
Why should I be worthy? I am worthy, because I believe that I’m here in this world for a purpose. The Order has shown me that I can be accepted for the way I am. So, maybe I can be there for those for whom their church has been a barrier in the past. Or for those that find themselves not good enough. The best part of being a deacon for me is just being there for other people, taking time for them and, above all, showing that I care, because God cares for me.