Does God care if you get distracted? Rethinking ADHD, faith and following Jesus

As a therapist, I’m often alongside individuals who identify as neurodivergent. Notably, one of the services I’m part of has recently embedded an identifying question about neurodiversity at the start of its clinical assessment, in recognition of how important it is to be aware of, validate and respond to the ways in which neurodivergence can intersect with and influence mental health and wellbeing. In my work, I also see the way it intersects with our spiritual health, and I have reflected on how frequently we mistake neurological differences for spiritual deficiency.

With this in mind, over the next few months I’ve decided to create a series on this topic in the hope that it will encourage and offer a more compassionate way of being to those of us who may be wrestling with how neurodivergence intersects with our faith.

One of the common stories I encounter in the therapy room is from women who have gone on to discover that ADHD is part of their story, but long before this, the meaning they attached to their experiences had already taken root. I speak to women who find their minds wandering within minutes of prayer, starting a Bible reading plan with genuine enthusiasm before abandoning it a few weeks later, struggling to stay present in conversations or to follow through on commitments they have made. They hadn’t concluded, “My brain works differently,” but rather, “I’m a failing Christian,” and for some, the faith journey has become filled with shame and the sense that God is disappointed in them.

ADHD is often described as a difficulty with attention, but in reality it is much more than that. It affects executive functioning: the mental processes responsible for planning, organising, regulating attention and moving between tasks. It isn’t simply about finding it difficult to concentrate. It is often about finding it difficult to direct your attention consistently, even towards the things you value most.

Many women go undiagnosed for years. They become experts at masking, over-preparing, apologising, striving and compensating. Outwardly they appear organised and dependable, while inwardly they carry a sense of failure that often leads to striving. Unfortunately, these same patterns often find their way into faith. Prayer becomes another task we can’t seem to do properly. Bible reading becomes another habit we can’t sustain. Our wandering minds become evidence not of neurological difference, but of spiritual inadequacy.

“If I really loved God, I’d be more disciplined.”

“If I had stronger faith, I’d stop getting distracted.”

And the timeless voice of Scripture seems to confirm these beliefs. For example: “You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you” (Isaiah 26:3).

For someone whose mind frequently wanders, Isaiah’s words can become another reason to feel we’ve fallen short. If we were more focused, more disciplined or more committed, perhaps we would experience more of God’s peace. Subsequently, faith becomes another place to perform, another place where we promise ourselves we’ll try harder tomorrow and prove our faithfulness.

But what if we’ve misunderstood what Isaiah is describing?

There is a profound difference between uninterrupted concentration and enduring dependence. A steadfast mind is not necessarily one that never wanders; it is one that keeps returning in trust. Throughout Scripture, we are reminded of the ways God intimately knows us. He knows our personalities, our histories, our wounds and the way our minds work too. Nothing about us catches him by surprise.

This doesn’t mean ADHD isn’t challenging. Executive functioning difficulties can affect work, relationships, parenting and emotional wellbeing in significant ways. Seeking support, learning practical strategies or pursuing an assessment may be an important part of caring for ourselves well. But understanding how our brains work also invites us to ask a different theological question:

What if your greatest struggle isn’t a lack of love for God, but believing your mind should work differently?

We often imagine the ideal Christian as someone who rises early, sits quietly with an open Bible, journals thoughtfully and prays without interruption. These are beautiful practices, but they are not the measure of God’s affection, and for some they don’t always lead to connection. However, as we broaden our understanding of what steadfastness and consistency can look like, we also create new roads to intimacy.

Relationship has always mattered more than routine, and following Jesus has never been about having a mind that never wanders. It has always been about returning, again and again, to the God whose attention has never wandered from us.

Developing a more compassionate approach to neurodivergence and faith can start with small steps, such as:

• Letting go of the idea that every Christian connects with God in exactly the same way.

• Experimenting with rhythms that work with your mind rather than against it. Prayer walks, audio Scripture, voice notes and creative practices are all genuine ways of meeting with God.

• Paying attention to the difference between conviction and shame. One draws us towards God, while the other convinces us to hide.

• Remembering that five attentive minutes with God are not less valuable than thirty distracted ones.

• Trusting that your wandering attention has never caused God to lose sight of you.

Following Jesus with a different kind of mind begins by discovering that God has never confused your neurological wiring with your spiritual worth.

Next month, I’ll be continuing this conversation with an interview with SEND educational leader, author and coach Emma Noel Pinnock.