NeuroDivine

Reflecting on today’s readings Psalm 20 | Isaiah 5:8-24 | Matthew 4:23-5:12

Three times a week, I enter the space where blood meets machine—where life is filtered, sustained, and reclaimed. It’s more than medical protocol; it’s liturgy. A rhythm of survival. A ritual of return.

Psalm 20 reminds me that strength doesn’t always come from the obvious places. For those of us who are neurodivergent, the world often hands us tools that don’t suit our wiring. But there’s a deeper kind of help—one that meets us in the sanctuary of our need.

Isaiah 5 is a firebrand. It speaks of a society that’s lost its sensory integrity—where indulgence replaces justice, and numbness becomes the norm. Dialysis, by contrast, is a discipline. It acknowledges the body’s limits and honours the need for restoration. It’s a refusal to pretend all is well when the system is out of sync.

Then we ascend the mountain in Matthew. Jesus moves among the afflicted—not as a distant healer, but as one who sees the rhythm of their suffering. The blessings he offers aren’t for the powerful—they’re for those who feel deeply, who mourn, who hunger for justice. The ones the world overlooks. The ones who return, again and again, to the place of healing.

For me, dialysis is a beatitude in motion. A prophetic rhythm. A bodily prayer. It says: I will return. I will be cleansed. I will not be forgotten.

This is the NeuroDivine path. To live between the fire of Isaiah and the blessing of the mountain. To feel deeply, to endure rhythmically, and to trust that our sensitivity is sacred.