For eight years, we lived next door to a family whose youngest daughter had significant physical disabilities. Alison's parents worked tirelessly to raise awareness in our town and schools to the mobility challenges she would face the rest of her life. For Alison to integrate fully into the community, she would need to be able to get around town.

As Alison grew and could no longer rely on her parents to carry her, her mobility needs increased. Over time, we witnessed an accessibility makeover at her house. Ramps were installed to accommodate her wheelchair, and later, her motorized scooter. The driveway was paved and widened to insure that the school bus could lower its lift and allow her to roll in easily. Cut-out curbs were added on every street corner. I remember the first time I saw Alison cruising on her scooter to the center of town. She was like a girl who had been given the keys to the car for the first time. Alison was free to be part of the community, and we—her community—were finally able to gain access to her.

We didn't worship at the same church as Alison. But based on the way her mom and dad advocated for her, I can only assume her church made every effort to welcome her into their community by adding ramps, widened doorways and broad aisles. When churches make physical changes like this to their facilities, everyone benefits. The Reverend Jo Clare Hartsig of Wayzata, Minnesota, who took a lead role in creating a congregational resource on disabilities for her denomination, echoes this point. "It's not ministry 'to' persons with disabilities," she says, "but ministry 'with' and 'by' persons with different types of abilities."

"I guess the first thing to consider is, 'Who do we become when we become accessible to all?" asks Hartsig. Every church would be wise to ask this question. Accessibility is after all a two-way street. Yes, accommodating the needs of people with physical disabilities requires an investment. Replacing stairways with ramps costs money. Providing assistive listening devices costs money. Offering large-print hymnals costs money. But to what extent do we short-change ourselves when we opt not to provide these accommodations?

Today, Alison works at a big box retail store and attends community college. Her town wouldn't be what it is—accessible to all—without her. She literally paved the way for others with physical disabilities to become part of the community. If a ramp and some cut-out curbs was all it took to accomplish this, imagine what changes like this could do for churches. Jesus truly would be accessible to all. And Christ-followers would gain access to those whose walk with Jesus looks very different from their own.