Walk into any world-renowned art gallery, and you’ll be greeted by the greats: oil portraits bathed in perfect lighting, landscapes that take your breath away, and sculptures so symmetrical they defy human error. These are the pieces that the public comes to see—the ones given the places of honor.
But deep in the back, in a temperature-controlled storage room, rest the works that never made it to the gallery walls. Maybe they’re cracked. Maybe they look different than what’s expected. Maybe they were misunderstood. But some of them—many, in fact—were painted by the same artist, with the same intention, the same love, and perhaps even more honesty.
And if you were to ask the artist, they might just say, “That one… the one no one talks about? That one’s my favorite.”
1 Corinthians 12:22 says,
“On the contrary, those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable.”
Not “helpful.” Not “a sweet addition.” Not “a burden we should be patient with.” Indispensable. Something that we caNOT do without.
That’s a rare truth in our churches—and an even rarer one in our culture. The Kingdom of God doesn’t run on the same economy as the world. The very people our systems overlook are the ones God has woven into the core of His design.
This isn’t a mercy project.
This isn’t about inclusion because it’s trendy or polite.
This is about the heart of the Gospel.
Some of the most powerful things about God—His compassion, patience, dependence, creativity—are most clearly seen in those our world often calls “limited.” But from God’s perspective, disability isn’t a flaw to be fixed—it’s a lens that helps the rest of us see clearly.
We tend to think that people with disabilities are the ones missing out. But maybe it’s us—those who assume understanding equals speaking, or strength equals mobility—who are missing what the Spirit is revealing right in front of us.
It’s easy to spend our time in the front room of the gallery—clapping for the polished, the predictable, the articulate. But if we truly want to know the Artist, we’d better be willing to walk into the storage room. To kneel next to someone the world has overlooked. To listen deeply. To see the divine fingerprints on lives we’ve wrongly labeled as “less.”
Because that “hidden” masterpiece?
God didn’t forget it.
He hid it on purpose.
