NeuroDivine

Creation Speaks and Law Revives

Psalm 19 greets us like an Irish dawn—each mountain and breeze declaring God’s handiwork. As someone on the autism spectrum and a dialysis patient, I find solace in repetition: the sunrise, the steady hum of the machine, the gentle lilt of birdsong. Like the psalmist, I delight in precepts that are sure and right; these patterns gather scattered thoughts and remind me that God’s law not only guides but restores.

Wisdom 5 holds before us two paths: blazing judgment for those who ignore God and eternal life for those who walk in reverent awe. Its clarity resonates deeply. It isn’t a threat but a gracious boundary, a refining fire that calls us back whenever we stray—just as the landscape’s storms and sunlight refine both land and heart.

Servanthood as True Exaltation

When James and John ask to sit beside Jesus in glory, they reveal a hunger many know: the desire for honor and status. Yet Jesus turns ambition upside down. Greatness in his kingdom is measured by humble service, by laying down privilege for the sake of others. For someone whose social cues can feel like an ever-shifting puzzle and whose body relies on machines, this teaching is a beacon: serving the community becomes the surest path to belonging and meaning.

Walking the First Step of Humility

We’re reminded that the first step in humility is keeping the fear of God ever before our eyes—never forgetting it. We’re urged to stay alert to our thoughts, words, and actions, to temper self-will and curb fleshly desires. Far from a burdensome checklist, this guidance offers a steady framework: a way to notice impulses, pause, and choose love instead of instinct. In the hush between morning and evening prayer, each moment becomes an invitation to return our hearts to wonder and reverence.

Living the Rhythm of Treatment

As a dialysis patient, I move through a rhythm of treatments—three sessions over seven days: one day on, a rest day, one day on, rest, on, rest, rest, then repeat. Each treatment day invites surrender—trusting caregivers, machines, and God to renew life. Rest days become sacred interludes, a chance to absorb grace without the churn of care. The twice-weekly pauses echo the moments between our prayers, reminding me that every cycle of work and rest can be a step toward deeper trust.

Embracing Neurodivergent Gifts in Community

• Sensory Awareness as Prayer | Notice the warmth of the dialyser lines, the beep of the machine, the hush of companionship in the clinic. Let these details root you in presence and draw you into stillness.
• Rhythm as Refuge | Lean into the pattern of prayer, treatment, and rest. Predictable structure can calm an overwhelmed mind and offer a tangible way back whenever you feel adrift.
• Honest Fellowship | Cultivate gentle speech and patient listening. Share your sensory or medical needs openly and receive the body of Christ in all its diversity.
• Inner Examination | Use brief pauses—before treatments, between tasks, before speaking—to ask, “Where is my heart right now?” These simple check-ins embody that first step of humility, turning every day into an opportunity for renewal.

May the heavens continue to declare God’s glory to you, may Wisdom’s fire refine your path, and may humble service and faithful rhythm shape your journey in grace.

A reflection based on the readings for today: Psalm 19 Wisdom 5:1-16 Mark 10:35-45; and from the Rule of St Benedict Chapter 7.