Making room for people with different abilities

Accessibility goes far beyond physical design, it’s about culture and mindset, writes Sue Davies.

BY MAJOR SUE DAVIES*

One of the things I love most about the Salvos is our heart for people. We’re known for stepping into the margins, welcoming the vulnerable, and lifting the weary. But I want to raise a gentle challenge with us today - one that comes from a place of love and hope. And it’s this: are we truly accessible to people with 'different abilities'? Are our churches, programs, and gatherings places where everyone - not just some - can participate fully, freely, and without barriers?

Language is important to me. I prefer the term 'different abilities' because it shifts the focus from what someone can’t do to what they can. People with different abilities bring strengths, skills, and perspectives that are just as valuable – sometimes more so – than the mainstream way. Their contribution isn’t lesser, just different.

I’ve lived my whole life with a prosthetic leg. It’s shaped how I move through the world – physically, socially, and spiritually. While I’ve had many opportunities and been part of some wonderfully inclusive communities, I’ve also faced practical challenges. I’ve stood at the bottom of staircases with no handrail and no lift in sight. I’ve navigated uneven footpaths, toilets labelled 'accessible' that really aren’t, and events that forgot to ask, “Can everyone actually get through the door?”

So today, I want to speak honestly about what it’s like to navigate faith and community as someone with a lifelong different ability. I want to speak to the good, the hard, and the ways I believe the Salvos can keep growing into a movement where everyone is truly welcomed.

Growing up in the church was a beautiful part of my life. I was loved and included. But I know that’s not the experience for everyone with different abilities. Accessibility goes far beyond physical design. It’s about culture and mindset. It’s about whether people like me are seen – not as problems to be accommodated, but as people to be embraced and valued just as we are. I don’t believe these oversights are intentional. But when they happen again and again, they send a message: church isn’t really for you. You’re an afterthought in the planning, not a full participant in the mission.

Sometimes, the biggest barriers are relational. People make assumptions. They talk about you instead of to you. They feel awkward and unsure, so they avoid. Or they quietly decide that leadership or ministry roles probably aren’t a good fit for someone like you.

But here’s the thing - most of us with different abilities don’t want special treatment. We just want the same opportunity to belong, to contribute, and to grow. We want to be seen as whole people, not defined by what we can or can’t do. That’s where I think we, in the Salvos, can do more. Our theology tells us every person is made in the image of God. Our mission calls us to serve the vulnerable. But inclusion can’t just be something we believe in – it must be something we practice.

That means rethinking how we set up our spaces, how we communicate, how we lead. It means slowing down and asking, “Can everyone hear this? Reach this? Feel safe here?” It means creating environments that don’t just say, “You’re welcome”, but show it – through thoughtfulness, listening, and action.

It also means giving people with different abilities a seat at the table – not just as guests, but as leaders. When we include diverse voices in decision-making, our whole movement becomes richer, more creative, and more Christlike.

I’ve learned a lot from others with different abilities too - those with sensory sensitivities, mental health challenges, or neurodivergence. They’ve shown me that true accessibility is about flexibility. It’s about making space for people to show up in ways that work for them.

At the end of the day, this isn’t about ticking boxes. It’s about people. It’s about whether the body of Christ has room for every part - every story, every struggle, every strength.

So, here’s my hope: that the Salvos continue to be a place where no one is left at the door. Let’s keep asking the questions, having the conversations, and making the changes, so that everyone, regardless of ability, can find their place in the mission of God. Let’s be that kind of church. Let’s open the doors wider – and keep them open – for everyone.

*Major Sue Davies is a retired officer based in Queensland. You can find out more about her story here.