Can I be completely honest with you?
I love being a mama. Not just any mama—I love being the mama of the Fagan minis. These unique, vibrant, joyfully unpredictable souls who call me “Mommy” have changed me in ways I never imagined. But let me keep it real: raising children who are neurodivergent is not for the faint of heart. And I’m raising three.
Each day, I die to self a little more—not in defeat, but in humility. My children push me to think beyond myself and my feelings. To be present. To communicate with intention. I often find myself saying things like, “I can’t read your mind. You have to communicate with me,” all while knowing that for two of them—who are on the autism spectrum—verbal communication isn’t their default.
My mother used to say, “Your actions speak louder than your words.” She never met her grandchildren—she passed away more than ten years before the first one entered our lives—but her words ring truer now than ever.
Because with my children, their actions absolutely speak louder. I’ve learned to read behaviors like books, offer verbal cues, assume understanding—and more often than not, I’m amazed at what is understood. Not because of what I’ve said, but because of what I’ve modeled.
Isn’t that the case for all of us, though? Neurodivergent or not, people are often more shaped by what they see than what they hear.
Some days, I understand my minimally speaking daughter more clearly than my sons who speak in full sentences. Why? Because I’ve taken the time to study her. I’ve tuned into her rhythm. I listen without expecting words.
That kind of listening is love. Intentional. Active. Sacred.
It is work. It is worship. It is a form of discipleship. And it is absolutely worth it.
So if you’re in the thick of it—wondering if you’re doing enough, feeling stretched, unseen, or unheard—remember this: Grace is not reserved for Sundays. It is poured out daily, moment by moment, even in the chaos. Especially in the chaos.
You are seen. You are chosen. And you are doing holy work.
Scripture Takeaway:
Proverbs 22:6 (NKJV)
“Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.”
Your training may include visual schedules, therapy sessions, weighted blankets, and deep breaths—but it is training nonetheless. And it is sacred.
Reflection Question:
How has parenting (or caregiving) changed the way you listen—not just with your ears, but with your heart?
Call-to-Action:
If this post resonated with you, share it with someone walking a similar path. Let them know they are not alone. Tag me @LelaJFagan or leave a comment on Memoirs of a Black Girl. Let’s lift each other in grace.
© 2025, Lela Fagan. All rights reserved.
