We talk a lot about the hard things, because they’re real. The struggles with focus, the sensory overload, the emotional rollercoasters. And yes, those things shape our days.
But today, I want to talk about the other side: the bright, bold, beautiful side of ADHD. Because for all that ADHD challenges, it also gives. And in Aidan, those gifts shine in a thousand little ways.
His creativity? It’s off the charts. Give that boy a pile of Legos, and he’ll disappear into a world of imagination so vivid it feels like stepping into another universe. He doesn’t just build sets. He engineers stories. Characters with backstories and feelings. Entire multiverses with emotional arcs. His brain isn’t linear. It’s layered and dynamic and wonderfully alive. He sees possibilities where others see pieces.
His passion? Unshakable. When Aidan locks into something he loves, there’s no stopping him. Right now, that love lives on the basketball court and the martial arts mat. He pours his whole heart into it: sweat, time, drive, and determination. It’s not about being the best. It’s about being in it, fully, enthusiastically, and with contagious joy. He teaches me what it looks like to pursue something with inexhaustible energy and wholehearted delight.
His empathy? Unmatched. ADHD doesn’t dull his ability to connect. It deepens it. When Aidan is tuned into someone else’s feelings, he’s really tuned in. He senses sadness in a room before anyone speaks. He’s the first to offer a kind word, a tight hug, or a goofy (sometimes borderline inappropriate) distraction to lift the mood. His heart is wide open: sensitive, intuitive, and often overflowing.
And sometimes, that’s the hardest part. He just feels so much. His love is big and messy and beautiful, and when he wants to show it, he doesn’t always know how to contain it. But that’s also where the magic lives.
And his heart? It’s pure gold. There’s a sweetness in Aidan that catches me off guard. A thoughtfulness that’s not taught. It’s just who he is. He’ll pick a flower from the yard and place it in a vase on the counter for me to find. He’ll yell, “I love you!” from the other side of his bedroom door until he knows I’m heading to bed. He’ll curl up beside me in a chair to read (currently Harry Potter). Not because he can’t read on his own, he reads far above grade level, but because he knows I still long to read to him. His love is his superpower.
So yes, ADHD brings challenges. But it also brings color, depth, and brilliance. It brings imagination, empathy, and fire. It brings Aidan, exactly as God designed him.
And as his mom, I get the sacred privilege of witnessing that spark up close. I get to learn how to guide him without dimming him. I get to walk the line between gentle structure and wild freedom. It is not always easy. But it is always worth it.
If you’re parenting or teaching a child with ADHD, don’t forget to look for the gifts. They’re there, often shining the brightest in the chaos.
And if you are that child, growing up wondering why you feel different, this is for you too:
You are not broken. You are not too much. You are wonderfully made.
Each mind reflects the Creator’s brilliance.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.— Psalm 139:14
Grace in the Disarray 