The Neurodivergent is a Gift to Those Around Them

Some people cannot sit still with one gift. They keep making more room for the gifts they possess. I can create a teaching lesson and then write a song about it. I sometimes sing a melody into an AI music app, then create a detailed prompt to make it sound like the song that is in my head. I have sung an original (made up right there) song straight from my heart during altar call. I write poetry. I take the public or virtual stage to teach a lesson.

Because why not share in multiple ways and allow the lesson, song, or speaking land in various people’s hearts the way they receive it?

That's my mind at work. I embrace my neurodivergent mind. I am not scattered and disordered. I have an abundance of talents to share. I am not doing "too much." I am fully resourced.

I consider what I do as stewardship over what God has given me — not a single talent buried in the ground out of fear, but multiple talents put to work until they double. I don't hoard my gifts; I try to multiply them. Every idea becomes three. Every calling becomes a doorway to the next one. That restlessness people sometimes consider a defect? For me it looks like a written poem becoming a song, becoming a teaching series, becoming a moment to uplift people. I'm a servant who took what was entrusted to her and didn't bury it.

To wear "neurodivergent" without shame is its own kind of testimony. It says: this is how God built the vessel, and the vessel works exactly as it should. Not despite the mental wiring — but because of it. The same mind that makes it hard to sit through a meeting is the mind that can hold a group of people still with one story, then break into a soulful song ten minutes later like it was always the plan.

I don't need to translate myself into someone else's rhythm to be taken seriously. My multiplicity is my ministry.