An article I wrote on establishing routines has been viewed almost 50,000 times, yet I have never followed a routine for more than a few months. This isn’t just about doing laundry or exercising. My lack of consistency also spills over into my spiritual life.

As an autistic Christian, my inconsistency feels like a spiritual defect, and I know other neurodivergent adults can relate. Impulsive thoughts interrupt our prayer life and Bible study. Emotional dysregulation makes us feel far from God. We’ve tried system after system, failing every routine recommended by our neurotypical friends. Burnt out and unable to keep up with our newest reading plan, we question if this means we’re failing in our faith.

While the answer is an emphatic no, for a neurodivergent person, a strong sense of guilt and shame can cloud that truth. If you feel the weight of your inconsistency, be assured that just as Christ has secured your salvation, he is also the source of your sanctification. As you abide in Christ and grow in your understanding of your weaknesses, you can experience true confidence in Christ’s power to sanctify you.

My Weakness, His Strength

I met with a counselor during a period of mental and spiritual depression. After we talked about the many routines and psychological techniques I had unsuccessfully utilized, she finally asked me at what point I was going to stop fighting the disabling aspects of my life. In no way was she encouraging me to stop seeking holiness. Rather, she wanted me to acknowledge my weaknesses and learn how to walk alongside them with dependence on Christ instead of expecting them to disappear.

Paul states in 2 Corinthians 12:7–10 that through our weaknesses God demonstrates his perfect power and sufficiency. My neurodivergence and my struggles with consistency are not obstacles to Christ making me holy. The more I recognize my weakness, the more I see that my sanctification is about Christ’s strength and not my own.

United to Christ

My weaknesses and struggles do not prevent my sanctification because I am in Christ. Believer, when God saves you and makes you a new creation, you are united with Christ. His righteousness is your righteousness. Unfortunately, as we seek to grow in holiness, we frequently find ourselves forgetting this truth. We fight against the thorns in our flesh instead of viewing them as opportunities to better understand God’s power. We hear and long for the beauty of a life of holiness but feel too weak and unfaithful to reach it.

As a teenager, I deeply felt this weakness. I spent hours crying out to God, asking him to take away my anxiety, make me more sociable, and help me focus during prayer and Bible study. I did not pray these things out of selfish ambition, but to glorify him. How could I serve him well if I had a panic attack while giving a speech? How could I effectively share the gospel if I struggled through conversations and friendships? How was I going to grow in godliness when I could not complete any reading plans?

I wish my teenage self knew that I didn’t need to be stronger. Rather, I needed to behold the beauty of Christ’s strength. In his short book Abide with Christ, Andrew Murray helps us move from the false belief that such a life of power is unattainable. He comforts those like me, “Dear souls! How little they know that the abiding in Christ is just meant for the weak, and so beautifully suited to their feebleness.” Instead of proving my strength by trying to overcome my anxiety, social struggles, and executive dysfunction, I wish I had known the beauty of simply looking to Christ. Acknowledging our struggles and trusting in Christ’s sufficiency is not an admission of defeat, but the very source of our strength.

Secure Standing

Our standing before God is entirely secure because it is not based on our performance but on the perfect life of our Savior. As Paul reminds us, “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me” (Gal. 2:20). Since he lives in us, we now live by faith in his ongoing work. His great love and mercy toward us did not die on the cross. No, he continues to work in us, meeting us with grace, not frustration.

When your weaknesses feel overwhelming, I encourage you to cling to these truths:

Christ still upholds you when you struggle to complete another reading plan (Ps. 63:8).

When legalism feels safer than grace, remember that Jesus will be the one to present you blameless before the Father (Jude 24).

When your mind races during prayer, know he intercedes for you (Rom. 8:26).

He knows you completely, even when you feel disconnected from others (John 10:14–15).

Sanctification and Rest

We will still struggle. As an autistic woman, I know all too well that this world is overwhelming. As a Christian, I know that my flesh fails and my sinful self fights against me. Yet, even in the tension of my present union with Christ and my future glorification, I can find hope. Just as our relationship with Christ provides a secure standing for our salvation, we can rest as he works out our sanctification. We are called to set our minds on heavenly things, but that ability comes from abiding with him (Col. 3:1–3).

Believer, you have been raised to a new life “through faith in the powerful working of God” (Col. 2:12, emphasis mine). No longer dead in your sin, you have been “made alive together with him” (Col. 2:13). You do not grow toward such a new life. Instead, you actively grow in holiness because of the security already provided by this new life. You can rest in the truth that he securely holds your salvation and will continue to faithfully help you grow. Your struggles with sensory processing and emotional regulation do not threaten your place in Christ. As you learn to recognize your need for complete dependence on him, you will find yourself being sanctified through, not despite, your neurodivergence.

Abide in Him

I spent weeks researching the science behind establishing routines. I felt that if I finally found the perfect routine of prayer and Scripture reading, my faith would truly blossom. Instead, by leaning into my weaknesses and resting in the completed and ongoing work of Christ, I have realized that my sanctification is not found in forcing myself to meet arbitrary and self-imposed standards.

God’s Word is not given to us as a legalistic pathway to holiness. Rather, it is life to our souls, as sweet and dear to us as honey. If a specific, structured reading plan leaves you feeling ashamed, don’t let that keep you from the Word. Engage with Scripture in a way that recognizes your neurodivergent differences.

We are blessed to have multiple ways of accessing the Bible, from audio versions to dyslexia-friendly fonts. If you need novelty, change what time of day you consume the Word. If you struggle with executive dysfunction and are unsure of what to read, spend time meditating on or even studying the passage covered in that week’s sermon. During periods of intense struggles, I’ve found it helpful to read and pray through various verses written on 3x5 cards to continue growing in the Word.

I recommend approaching prayer and other spiritual disciplines with the same mindset. The way you interact with them may look different from your neurotypical brother or sister, but that does not devalue them. Instead, view them as grace-filled opportunities for you to know your Lord more.

When it feels like you are experiencing a period of dryness and are struggling to see growth, turn from your shame toward Jesus. Christ in you is a reality even when you do not feel that it is true. When your heart doubts your faith and you feel your grip slipping, remember it is Christ’s hands holding you. Your faithfulness is not measured by your consistency; it’s secured by the faithful strength of Christ. Continue to abide in him, and he will use it for your good.