On our most recent Women in Youth Ministry podcast, student and disability minister Jess Berryhill shared how her ministry at Mt. Pleasant Church in Terre Haute, Indiana, has grown from a handful of participants into a thriving community where friendship—not programming—is the heart of inclusion. Since founding Grace Unlimited Disability Ministry in 2015, Jess has walked alongside more than a hundred individuals each week, offering spaces for connection, belonging, and shared life. Her creative approach includes dating and relationships classes, mental health groups, and weekly gatherings that extend far beyond the church walls. Out of those conversations came Terre Haute Friendship House, an affordable housing model where college students and young adults with disabilities live together as roommates—a launchpad into independent living and a tangible picture of the gospel’s invitation to shared community.
As Jess reflected on her journey, one theme kept surfacing: real inclusion happens through relationships, not programs. Churches often respond to accessibility needs by building ramps, starting specialized classes, or adding a “disability ministry” to the calendar. While these are valuable steps, Jess reminded us that the deeper work begins when we move from serving people to befriending them. Here are three shifts every ministry can make to move from programs to people:
1. Shift from hosting to belonging.
Many ministries start with a “come join us” mindset—welcoming participants into something already built. But friendship begins when we share ownership and belonging. Jess described how Grace Unlimited doesn’t just invite people with disabilities to attend; it invites them to lead, teach, and dream. When individuals shape the ministry alongside you, they move from guests to co-creators.
2. Shift from events to everyday moments.
The most meaningful inclusion rarely happens in structured programs—it happens in ordinary life. Jess shared that some of the most powerful moments of ministry have been around dinner tables, walks with her dog Cooper, and late-night conversations at Friendship House. Building a truly inclusive church means asking: How can we create more shared life, not just shared space?
3. Shift from services to relationships.
Churches often see disability ministry through a service lens—something we do for people. But friendship reframes it as something we do with people. Jess emphasized that every individual carries spiritual gifts the church needs. True inclusion means receiving as much as we give, letting every person—regardless of ability—teach us something about God’s image.
Jess’s story reminds us that inclusion isn’t a department—it’s a discipleship practice. When we lead with friendship, we discover a church that feels less like a program and more like a home.
The phrase that keeps echoing in my mind from Jess’s story is this: “Our friends have hopes and dreams, too.” When we begin to see the people we serve not as projects, but as friends—with real hopes, dreams, and human needs—we start showing up differently. Friendship invites us to listen more deeply, love more freely, and create spaces where everyone’s flourishing truly matters.
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Heather Lea Campbell