We knew early on that our son was unique. Not only because he sat alone at lunch, but also because of his unusual interests and intense curiosities. For years, we focused on “fixing” his social skills, handwriting, and attention deficits so he’d be successful in school. We’re thankful these early interventions continue to bear fruit.

Still, the best gift we gave our son came when we stopped emphasizing what was wrong and began to focus instead on God’s good purpose. If your child has just been diagnosed with a learning disability or developmental disorder, you may be tempted to ask yourself unhelpful questions. Thankfully, there are also good questions you can ask yourself that can help you through the next phase of parenting.

Wrong Questions

Fifteen percent of Americans meet the diagnostic criteria for a neurodevelopmental disorder like autism, ADHD, or dyslexia. Whether the diagnosis arises from social, intellectual, or academic difficulties, chances are a child you love already has or will eventually face such a diagnosis. During a diagnosis process, parents most commonly ask, “What’s wrong with my child, or my parenting?” Their next question is “How do I fix it?”

The best gift we gave our son came when we stopped emphasizing what was wrong and began to focus instead on God’s good purpose.

When I asked those questions, I was assuming my son needed to live up to society’s expectations, that the most important thing for my son was to have a “normal” childhood, get good grades, and be invited to birthday parties. I continue to grieve when I watch my now young-adult son suffer with a disordered mind and struggle to find his place in a world that often doesn’t understand him.

But I also rejoice in knowing that even when this world doesn’t understand, the Creator does, and he loves my son fully. I rejoice in knowing that God doesn’t judge me according to developmental charts or educational trends but on the basis of Christ’s work on my behalf. I rejoice, and I’ve known fuller joy in Christ because of the unique privilege he’s given me as my son’s mother.

These wonderful gospel truths are a good place to start, and they can help us ask better questions.

Better Questions

Facing a new diagnosis is overwhelming. Dozens of neurodevelopmental disorders have been formally named and defined, and most have various modifiers or subcategories. There are just as many opinions about causes and treatments for any given diagnosis.

Even among the most common disorders, like ADHD or autism, every child’s individual presentation is unique. Moreover, neurodevelopmental disorders rarely stand alone. They almost always involve comorbid medical or mental conditions. With all that in mind, here are better questions I’ve learned to ask. I hope they’ll help you parent your child with courage, hope, wisdom, and grace.

1. What unique gifts and limits has God given my child?

Psalm 139 assures us that human complexity isn’t a divine mistake but part of God’s good plan. Our creaturely limits remind us all we’re not God, and when God works through our children’s limits and gifts, this puts God’s strength, grace, and wisdom on display. First Corinthians 12 tells us God has arranged spiritual gifts to promote unity and interdependence in his church (vv. 4–7, 11, 18, 24–26). Your child’s unique gifts and limits are given for the same purpose.

So instead of asking what’s wrong with your child, ask, “What are the specific talents, weaknesses, interests, and needs the sovereign Creator has arranged for my child?” What lights up your child? What stresses her out or calms her down? What does he feel drawn to or want to avoid? What motivates and discourages her? As you get to know your child’s strengths and limits, you can begin to joyfully embrace them as part of God’s design.

2. What do I need to grieve?

When a family member faces a cancer diagnosis or an outwardly obvious physical or mental disability, we all grieve. But when bodily or mental brokenness is less visible, grief is more complicated. No one brings a child home for the first time hoping she’ll one day receive a neurodevelopmental label. The journey to diagnosis and the path beyond can be full of pain and suffering.

Even as we rejoice in how God’s strength is shown through our child’s gifts and limits, it’s also good to lament the mental, physical, psychological, and cognitive brokenness we encounter this side of eternity. As a parent of a child with a new diagnosis, what do you need to lament?

3. What can growth look like for my child?

Milestone charts can help identify potential developmental delays, but post-diagnosis, they’re rarely helpful. When your child fails to meet typical language, motor, social, and academic standards, choose to recognize that God gives each person a measure of grace (Eph. 4:7). Search for evidence of that grace in your child’s life. Assess what she can do, and then build from there.

When you feel overwhelmed, confused, or embarrassed by your child’s unusual preferences, proclivities, and behaviors, know that you don’t need to fix everything you don’t understand about him (or even everything you don’t like about him). Instead of focusing on how far your child is from “normal,” look for opportunities to develop the skills, gifts, and interests he does have. And help him notice that growth and grace, too.

4. What expectations are reasonable? What accommodations are necessary?

Parents struggle to know if they’re setting the bar too low or too high for their neurodivergent children. You don’t want your child to become overly reliant on unnecessary accommodations, but withholding necessary accommodations can result in cycles of avoidable fear and shame. It takes time, patience, grace, and wisdom to discern what expectations and accommodations are necessary and reasonable. There aren’t simple fixes, easy solutions, or one-size-fits-all answers, so it’s important to ask these questions and to keep asking them as your child grows.

5. Are unwanted behaviors I’m seeing a result of my child’s developmental difficulties or of his sinful bent?

We all have trials and temptations to bear. We all have undesirable traits we want to change. Those with neurodevelopmental diagnoses often have a more difficult time keeping their weaknesses and undesirable traits hidden. But disciplining a child for his disability is wrong. Even calling a child to repent for the brokenness of his body can be akin to calling someone to repent for cancer or feeling shame for having a cold.

We all have trials and temptations to bear. We all have undesirable traits we want to change.

At the same time, a discerning parent can recognize willful sin. You see the rebellious glint in your child’s eye or a direct declaration of “No, Mom!” just before she does the opposite of what you asked. When my children were young, I’d often ask, “Is he giving me a hard time, or is he having a hard time?” My response and the consequences for my children’s behaviors would be different depending on the answer to that question.

Like all parents who must learn to tell the difference between their children’s sin and immaturity, we must be patient and discerning, showing gentleness when our neurodiverse children are weak while not excusing their willful sin.

Let’s all repent and receive grace when we sin, whether our sins are easily hidden or out in the open for all to see. Let’s grieve and lament the brokenness we experience in this fallen world. And let’s bear one another’s burdens, both the visible and invisible ones. As we do, we’ll learn to joyfully embrace the beauty of God’s good design reflected in the diversity and complexity of our kids—and everyone we meet.