The Neurodivergent Believer
“Will my awkwardness prevent me from sharing my passion for theology?” I asked my husband, tears flowing down my cheeks.
I’d just returned from serving at a women’s event for my local church, a place where I often struggle with social interactions and sensory overstimulation. Therapists have suggested that I might be autistic due to a lifetime of these struggles. Although I’ve never sought a diagnosis, I do know that my brain works differently than others. Over time, I’ve come to believe I am neurodivergent.
“Neurodivergent” is a modern label used to describe individuals whose brains function differently from the majority of people. The label includes a variety of diagnoses, such as autism spectrum disorder, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), Down syndrome, dyscalculia, dyslexia, dysgraphia, and more (Cleveland Clinic, 2022). “Neurotypical” describes those with conventional brain development whose behavior follows societal “norms” in relation to social interaction, learning, and perception.
As believers, we acknowledge that God created each brain uniquely. The Apostle Paul describes this diversity within the body of Christ, emphasizing that each member has a distinct role (1 Cor. 12:12–27). Despite this diversity, being neurodivergent in a predominately neurotypical world can present unique challenges. Even within the church setting, I question how much eye contact I give or whether I’m accurately picking up on unspoken social cues. I miss opportunities to discuss my favorite theological concepts when I’m distracted by how loud the fluorescent lights are, adjusting the scratchy tag in my shirt, and feeling a deep anger while listening to the person smacking gum next to me. My husband also desires to please others and say the right things, but his brain isn’t moving like a freight train trying to decipher social cues and tune out sensory distractions.
I first learned about autism and ADHD when pursuing my master’s degree over ten years ago. When my oldest son was diagnosed with ADHD and autism, I was desperate to learn more about the neurodivergent brain, so I turned to Christian bloggers, authors, and resources for parents of neurodivergent children. But as I have come to a greater understanding and acceptance of my neurodivergence over the last ten years, I’ve found Christian literature on the subject to be predominately quiet.
Social media features content creators who loudly declare supposed truths about neurodiversity: “You are perfect just like this.” Despite these voices, I’m still left with questions. Hearing someone chewing loudly causes me to feel extreme anger toward them. This seemingly unreasonable response is due to my sensory issues, but is this anger also sinful? I may never find specific answers to each aspect of my neurodivergent life, but I do know that I will not grow in sanctification through social media. As Christ-followers, any beliefs about our identity should not be informed by these voices but by God’s sufficient Word.
In Second Corinthians, Paul speaks much about the body, sanctification, and our hope of glorification. “So we do not lose heart,” writes Paul. “Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day” (2 Cor. 4:16). Intended for the Corinthian believer experiencing adversity, this verse also shows the distinction between body and soul. Church history affirms this bipartite view of body and soul, though some have wrongly devalued the importance of our physical bodies. Our bodies have worth because God made them in his image and declared them good (Gen. 1:26–31). Additionally, Christ’s redemptive work extends beyond our spirits and encompasses our entire being, including our bodies (Rom. 8:23; Phil. 3:20–21). Because of this new identity in Christ, we are compelled to pursue obedience and Christlikeness with our body and soul, but we pursue it while taking into consideration our physical needs and challenges.
Neurodivergent believers know well that there is a struggle or tension in this pursuit. During a period of increased panic attacks, I told a pastor that despite continually focusing on the truth, it felt like my body was betraying me. I did not know that research shows anxiety is frequently comorbid with autism, with some 40% of autistic adults also having a diagnosed anxiety disorder. Instead, I had grown up hearing that Jesus’s commands to not be anxious meant all anxiety was sinful, stemming from a lack of faith. I remain thankful for my pastor and his wife’s presence and support during this time as they regularly met with me and my husband. They wisely recognized that these panic attacks were not due to a lack of faith but my body’s struggles to cope with the increased demands of a stressful season. My struggles then and my current struggles now are a combination of body and soul.
Charles Spurgeon, in his sermon “Night and Jesus Not There,” acknowledged the challenges of feeling betrayed by your body, stating that many times fear is the symptom of a disease and not sin. His understanding of mental health was quite different from twenty-first-century views. However, he was still personally aware that these struggles, ones he experienced as well, were not just spiritual. Whether he had an anxiety disorder or not, he rightly believed that it is not “unspiritual to remember that you have a body.” Neurodivergent believers would also do well to remember their bodies in the journey of sanctification.
For some, physical factors such as unique brain development may make patience or self-control more difficult to practice, such as the angry reactions I sometimes display after experiencing particular sensory triggers. I also struggle with anxiety in a variety of social situations, tempting me to pull back instead of serving the church wholeheartedly. Others lack focus when reading the Scriptures. My Neurodivergence does not provide excuses for these struggles, but a bipartite view of the body allows us to consider that physical accommodations may need to be used alongside repentance, discipleship, or growth in the spiritual disciplines.
Praise God that his grace is sufficient for us, even as we navigate this tension between our neurodivergent experiences and our sanctification. God continues to grow my love for his bride in ways that I could have never imagined or accomplished in my own power. I have received gifts necessary for the growth of the church. As Paul writes in his first letter to the Corinthians, “To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.” (1 Cor 12:7). Despite my anxiety and awkwardness, I have been blessed to serve my church in a variety of ways that utilize my neurodivergent attention to detail and my desire to equip women with sound theology. Neurodivergence does not negate my ability to grow in Christlikeness and service to the body. It may instead be part of God’s means to help me bless his church.
After confiding my struggles to believe this truth, a friend replied that it is not someone’s personality that equips them for ministry; it is a humble heart that desires to serve the Lord. When we humbly approach the cross, recognizing our complete inability to become Christ-like on our own, we see God’s power displayed perfectly (2 Cor. 12:9). “For when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Cor. 12:10b).
Our present challenges as neurodivergent believers seeking to glorify God in an overwhelming world, are a “light momentary affliction” compared to the “eternal weight of glory” (2 Cor. 4:17). We find comfort in knowing sanctification is a progressive work that God will faithfully see to completion (2 Cor. 5:5). One day, we will “put on our heavenly dwelling” (2 Cor. 5:2) where our transformed bodies will contribute to the magnificence of God’s creation without any hindrances (2 Peter 3:13). I will still be uniquely made in his image, hopefully even keeping some of my neurodivergent traits. But praise God that anxiety, lack of focus, struggles to communicate with others, and overwhelm by the world will no longer restrict my worship and service to him! “Neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away” (Rev. 21:4b).
During that eternity, all believers will stand before God to “receive what is due” for the work we have done on this earth (2 Cor. 5:10). The neurodivergent believer is not unique in that they are called to courageously press on until that day, striving always to please God (2 Cor 5:6–9). My neurodivergence may present challenges when discipling others, proclaiming the gospel, and sharing my passion for theology. But it also provides me the opportunity to serve my church with my creative, detailed, and passionate brain and its unique view of the world. Regardless, I find encouragement to continue serving Christ and his body when I remember his faithful work in my redemption and sanctification and his future work in my glorification.
To my fellow neurodivergent believer, may you also find comfort in knowing that God’s faithful hand is on you, empowering you with unique and necessary gifts. He is “able to keep you from stumbling and to present you blameless before the presence of his glory with great joy” (Jude 24).
[Author’s note: I wrote this for the struggling neurodivergent believer out of my own struggles as a neurodivergent believer. However, neurodiversity means there is a spectrum of unique challenges and gifts, so my struggles may not represent those of someone else. Neurodiversity also means that a long-form piece like this might not be accessible to many. Still, it is my intention and prayer that this article will open the door to other neurodivergent believers sharing their experiences while also passionately speaking the truths of Scripture.]
Allyson Reid lives in Northwest Arkansas with her husband and two boys. They are members of and actively serve at First Baptist Church, Fayetteville. When Allyson has elusive free time, you can find her seeking treasures at a thrift store, reading theology books, or trying to win family board game night. You can find more of her writing at TheMundaneMoments.com.