There is a family in your community that hasn’t been to church in years — not because they stopped believing, but because it got too hard. And nobody noticed when they left.

28.7% of the U.S. population has a disability diagnosis (CDC 2025). On virtually every street, families are quietly wondering if there’s a church with room for them — not just a room, but a genuine, no-asterisks place of belonging.

I've spent over a decade walking alongside these families through SOAR Special Needs. Here are five things they wish your church knew.

1. They’ve Already Been Turned Away — More Than Once.

Before a special needs family ever walks through your doors, they've likely already heard "we're not equipped for that" or, worst of all, received nothing but a well-meaning smile and a slow fade. By the time they visit your church, they are carrying the weight of every previous disappointment.

They don’t need a perfect program. They need to feel seen and welcomed. A simple “We’re so glad you’re here, and we’ll figure this out together” can change everything.

2. They Want Their Child to Belong — Not Just Be Accommodated

Families know the difference between being tolerated and truly welcomed. They’re not asking your church to fix their child — they want their child known by name, celebrated for who they are, and included in the story of your faith community. Most don't want a separate room — they want to belong.

Belonging happens when volunteers are enthusiastic, classmates learn to be friends, and leaders see abilities before limitations. Small gestures — learning what makes a child light up, adapting an activity, sitting beside them in worship — send a powerful message: "You matter here."

But belonging goes deeper than accommodation. Accommodation says, "We made space for you." Belonging says, "We are not complete without you."

Children with special needs are not ministry interruptions. They are image bearers of God. When families feel their child truly belongs, church becomes home – and the church itself is transformed.

3. They Are Exhausted in Ways You Can’t Fully See.

Parenting a child with a disability is a full-time job on top of a full-time job. These families navigate IEPs, medical appointments, insurance battles, behavioral crises, and the relentless emotional labor of advocating for a child in a world not designed for them.

If a family makes it to your church, they have already done something remarkable. When your KidMin offers genuine, trained, loving care, you are not just providing childcare — you’re giving a parent their first real rest all week. That is sacred work.

4. Your Words Matter More Than You Know.

"At least they're happy." "God only gives special kids to special parents." However kindly meant, these phrases can land like stones.

Say this instead: "Tell me something wonderful about your child."

When they start describing the diagnosis — and they will — gently redirect. "No, something wonderful. Because your child is created in the image of God, and I want to know who they are."

In more than a decade alongside these families, I have never met a parent who has been asked that question — not by a teacher, doctor, therapist, or even a church. When those words finally land, something breaks open. Parents who have spent years fighting and advocating suddenly have permission to simply celebrate their child. The tears that follow aren't sadness. They're joy.

That question costs you nothing. It means everything.

And it's also pure ministry gold! When mom lights up and says, "She’s an incredible artist" — write it down. You know what she loves, what motivates her, what she works toward. That's not just a fun fact — that's a tool. Offer her five minutes of drawing as a reward for a great morning in class. Watch what happens. When a child knows you see what makes them wonderful, they will move mountains to show you more of it.

Seeing a child for who they truly are isn't just good theology. It's good ministry.

5. Their Child’s Behavior Is Communication

Don’t assume behavior equals disobedience. Many children with special needs communicate differently — overwhelmed by noise, lights, crowds, or transitions; unable to sit still or express emotions verbally.

What appears to be “bad behavior” may actually be anxiety, sensory overload, fear, frustration, or difficulty communicating.

Instead of “How do we stop this?” ask, “What is this child trying to communicate?”

A child covering their ears may need noise-reduction headphones. A child who bolts may need movement breaks. A nonverbal child may need visual supports. Patience and curiosity go much further than correction alone.

When volunteers learn to see behavior as communication, they respond with compassion instead of frustration. Families notice that difference immediately.

Whether you're a children's director, pastor, volunteer, or someone who simply wants to see your church become a place where every family belongs — start by asking one family: "What would it take for you to feel at home here?" Then listen. And then act.

That's where inclusion begins.

Stephen “Doc” Hunsley, M.D., is the Executive Director and Founder of SOAR Special Needs, based in Lenexa, Kansas. SOAR operates the nation’s largest disability day camp, consults with 800+ churches in 26 countries, and mobilizes 1,500+ volunteers annually. To learn more about bringing inclusion ministry training to your church or region, visit SOARspecialneeds.org or contact info@SOARspecialneeds.org.