Ministry with ADHD: The Chaos Is Real, but So Is the Calling
“God can draw a straight line with a crooked stick.”
I am a woman in ministry.
AND—I’m a woman in ministry who has ADHD.
(Shocking, I know.)
ADHD was supposed to look like kids bouncing off the walls, getting sent to the hallway every five minutes.
According to the National Institute of Mental Health, ADHD is “a chronic condition marked by an ongoing pattern of inattention and/or hyperactivity-impulsivity that interferes with functioning or development.”
But when I was growing up, that wasn’t the picture I had in mind.
Couldn't be me.
Good grades? Check.
Gifted program? Check.
Tennis team captain? Check.
ADHD?
Most definitely not… or so I thought.
It’s not that I can’t focus—
it’s that I can’t control what gets my focus.
I can go from answering an email to researching how brain surgery works without even realizing it.
There’s rarely a middle ground.
I’m either completely uninterested… or totally locked in—until something more fun comes along.
So yeah, “attention deficit” doesn’t quite fit.
It’s more like attention whiplash disorder.
And for a long time, I thought that was just normal.
Didn’t everyone have 37 tabs open in their brain at all times?
The possibility of having ADHD didn’t even cross my mind until I was in my mid-twenties.
I’ve always been the classic perfectionist—you know, the kind who spots a flaw and overcompensates to avoid it.
Late to events? Not me—I showed up 30 minutes early just to avoid the possibility.
Talkative? Nope. I stayed quiet so no one would ever suspect anything.
Messy? Absolutely not. My area was spotless… just ignore the chaos basket shoved under my bed.
Still, something was off.
I could preach a sermon, write a paper, and lose my keys—twice—all before lunch.
Eventually, I started researching.
And little by little, the dots started connecting.
Finally, I got a legitimate diagnosis.
Not a made-up one.
Not a “something’s wrong with me, so it must be this” kind of label.
A real one. One that made sense of years of overcompensating, masking, and second-guessing.
But then I had a crisis…
Can I really be a Christian and have ADHD?
Much less… a woman in ministry!?
Unfortunately, the Church hasn’t always done a great job of treating ADHD as real.
Too often, it gets brushed off with things like,
"Ahh, they just weren’t disciplined enough as a kid,”
or “They just need to focus more.”
Instead of compassion, it’s met with correction.
Instead of understanding, it’s dismissed as immaturity or laziness.
And don’t get me wrong, for a long time, I believed that too.
But, turns out, God doesn’t wait for your brain to settle before He hands out assignments.
Pastors are supposed to be calm. Reflective. Wise.
Meanwhile, I’m in my office trying to map out a sermon series without panicking because…
I haven’t seen my keys since I got to the office this morning.
So I started doubting:
Am I unqualified?
Is my walk with Jesus not strong enough?
Did I misunderstand His calling on my life?
But Jesus has been faithful to remind me:
— He doesn’t call the equipped. He equips the called. (Thank You, Jesus.)
— He understands me—and He still loves me. (Hello, grace.)
— He created me. And He doesn’t make mistakes. (I am not a happy accident.)
I’m learning that maybe, just maybe, there’s a reason for the way I am.
In fact, maybe the way my brain is wired isn’t a problem to fix—maybe it’s the secret sauce.
I think fast, move fast, and adapt faster.
If something needs doing, I’m already three steps into a solution.
And if you ask for my help?
You’ve got my full focus—until it’s done, and then some.
God knew exactly what He was doing when He made my mind move the way it does.
And I’m starting to believe…
Maybe He didn’t just call me in spite of my wiring.
Maybe He called me because of it.
I might interrupt you with a story similar to yours—not because I want to make it about me, but because my brain made a connection I thought might help you feel seen.
It’s how I build trust. It’s how I connect.
I might not always lead with logistics—
but I’ll remember the tiniest things about you: your favorite childhood movie, your third-grade teacher, and that one time you mentioned liking kettle corn.
Because in ministry, it’s often the smallest details that make the biggest difference.
I might seem chaotic—
but I promise, my heart is steady.
And when ministry gets messy—and it always does—I’m not easily shaken.
And for anyone who’s reading this thinking,
“I could never do what she’s doing—I’m too forgetful, too unqualified, too all-over-the-place…”
Let me flip that for you.
It’s not “I can’t do this because my brain works differently.”
It’s: “Maybe I can do this because my brain works differently.”
Because God doesn’t just work around our wiring—
Sometimes, He works through it.
And that includes yours, too.
“I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.”
