Finding "Home": Why We’re Choosing Local Over "Perfect"

If you’ve ever been to Ps & Gs in Edinburgh, you know why it’s a beacon for families in the Lothians. Their ministry is, mega. From the dedicated ASN provisions to the vibrant energy of a city-centre church, they seem to provide a "gold standard" of inclusion that makes people feel seen, supported, and understood. We were going to go back there the last few Sundays, but it didn't work out. 

​For a time, we started to consider that "official provision" was the only way we could thrive as a family at church. We were willing to brave the A7, the Edinburgh parking hunt, and the sensory marathon of a large-scale service because we knew the support might be there. Then we started to remember why we left going to the city for worship. 

​We are now feeling a different kind of pull.

​We’ve realized that while a flagship church offers a fantastic program, a local church offers a life and a community. 

​We are being drawn back to Gorebridge. On paper, our local churches don't have the "ASN Friendly" badges or the purpose-built sensory rooms. There isn't a team of official experts waiting in the wings. But what they do have is something we’ve started to crave once again: proximity.

​The Beauty of Walking

​There is a specific kind of stress that comes with transporting a neurodivergent family into the heart of a city. The transitions, the traffic, and the sheer distance mean that by the time we arrive at an "awesome ministry," our tanks are often already half-empty.

​Staying in Gorebridge means:

  • A regulated start: No 40-minute car ride where anxiety can build. With arguing in the back, and me having an autistic meltdown in the front etc. 
  • Familiar faces: Seeing the people from the local school or the park in the pews next to us.
  • The "walk-home" factor: If a Sunday is particularly tough, home is just a few minutes away—not a trek across the bypass.

​Trading Provision for Relationship

​Gorebridge might not have an "official" setup, but it has a community. In a smaller, local setting, we aren't "the family using the ASN service"—we are just a family. We’ve realized that inclusion doesn’t always have to be a specialized room; sometimes, it’s a congregation that gets to know our child's quirks and learns to love them. It’s a minister who asks, "How can we help?" instead of saying, "Here is the policy." Our experience in Gorebridge is that our disregulated children aren't seen by leadership as a problem, though we have had the odd stare of frown. But, let's be real we are all human. 

​We still have massive love for the big, beautiful ministries in the city. They do vital work. But for this season, we are choosing the quiet, the local, and the "unfinished." We’re trading the search for a perfect setup for a place where we can simply be neighbors. Notably I believe it was Charles Spurgeon who said if he found the perfect church he wouldn't join it for he himself was imperfect. 

Gorebridge might not be "official," but it feels like home. And sometimes, for an ASN family, home is exactly what you need. Some weeks we still probably won't make it, but at least it is a local option. 


Gorebridge Parish Church, Wikimedia Commons

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