The ADHD Test

To take the ADHD test, click on the picture (or follow the link below). Answer 31 yes-no questions and you can score your behavior patterns against “disorder” symptoms.

It’s official. I have ADHD. The internet told me so.

I am proud of my 71% score. Kim only got 13%. Hopefully, you will take the test and post your score in the comments at the bottom (don’t forget to leave a first name). Maybe it will explain why we relate to each other the way we do.

ADHD is a legitimate medical condition that causes severe challenges for some people. I sympathize with those people, but I am not one of them. I’m just a bit of a harmless spaz that can’t sit still, but you probably already knew that.

I am also a dreamer who happily pictures things that aren’t as they could be. My 71% allows me to apply nearly infinite energy to build those daydreams in our shared reality.

Sometimes the outcome of my efforts is imaginative. I love finding solutions to nearly any home repair with the stuff you find in your junk drawer.

Sometimes the outcome is pointless, like the time I spent two days and twelve sheets of sandpaper to reshape a cube of wood into a ball. We had a houseguest that weekend, and I thought doing that would make me seem more attentive when she talked.

Sometimes the outcome is productive, like this past week when I came home from work and, while still in office attire, saw that our garden weasel had arrived. I compulsively spent thirty minutes hand tilling most of our back yard and then spreading grass seed. I got mud and that weird, green, grass-seed dust all over my good clothes.

Each of us has a brain that works differently.  My thoughts joyfully romp down a thousand rabbit trails while I sit and watch your mouth move. Considerations race through my mind as my body unsuccessfully dashes to keep up.

It is easy for me to live in the future because its images constantly flood my brain. I am comfortable with tomorrow because it holds infinite opportunities that seem just within reach.

It is also difficult for me to live in the present. Events can play out too slowly for me to stay engaged. But if I try very hard and fidget endlessly, it is possible to stay on point just long enough to finish this post.

It has everything to do with my relationship with God.

I seldom pray for the present. My petitions are for the images that swarm my imagination. I feel closest to God when he assures me that a particular glimpse will become a reality and then walks with me while we build it. Those spirit-filled moments give me indescribable joy.

It also explains why Luke 2:52 is a scary verse.

In the preceding verse, Jesus was a twelve-year-old child. In the next verse, he was a thirty-three-year-old adult starting his life of ministry.

Twenty-one years slipped by as Jesus quietly went about his life. God walked with him as he patiently focused on all the daily details that make us human.

Jesus spent over two decades immersed in the same details that my brain skips past every day while it pursues something new.

I envy my wife. She loves the details. God holds her hand and she smiles. She is at peace spending quiet moments with him when nothing is happening. She enjoys their daily routines. For example, she has delivered Meals on Wheels for years. Same routes, same people, same hot food. Jesus shines through her and her simple acts of devotion.

There is incredible power in living a quiet life of obedience. God’s voice is a gentle whisper because he is at peace. He wants us to live the same way – trusting that our needs will be met, sharing our time, obeying the voice of truth.

In truth, I don’t want God to sit quietly with me. I want him to run with me in wild adventures that seem totally out of control.

Life has more days of quiet faithfulness than it does moments of divine calling. That is a challenge for me.

Many people are scared that God will call them into uncertainty. The test’s top scorers aren’t. We pray for it. We thrive on it. We become desperate when it doesn’t come fast enough.

Maybe your brain is wired like mine. Meetings are tough. Relationships come slowly. People laugh because we act differently. The world says it is a disorder. God calls it his design.

He made us this way and did it for a reason. We were fashioned for a purpose by a loving father. We have been set apart. Our lives are full of special blessings and special challenges.

Maybe you got a low score, but you know there is a test out there where your score will be high. That is OK. You were designed that way. Seek God in it.

In the meantime, you probably have a family member, friend, or coworker who is a top scorer. You know who they are. Accept us as God made us. We need you to keep us grounded. We are different, but one day you’re going to need us, too.

When the whole world seems crazy and out of control, just look around. We’ll be the ones smiling.