Chapter 1 - Introduction: Our Story

• How do I feel about having a gay son? How does my wife feel? How does my son feel?

• What is my despair? What is my hope?

• Am I trying to attack the church or “steady the ark”?

• Why can’t I just put my concerns on a shelf and go on with my life?

Chapter synopsis: I love my gay son. I recognize that my son’s sexual orientation cannot be changed. Today I wouldn’t want it to be changed, even if that were possible, because it’s a core and beautiful part of him - and learning to view gay sexual orientation more appropriately has made me a better person. I also recognize that many important teachings have changed significantly over the course of church history. Therefore, I have quietly hoped for change in the church, to alleviate the pain I feel from the doctrine that my son has to be a lifelong celibate or marry someone to whom he is not attracted in order to be allowed to fully participate in the church. By explaining my pain and my hope, including an exploration of doctrinal concepts, I aim to help people better understand the dilemma facing gay church members and their families.

Cheryl and I consider ourselves very fortunate to have four amazing kids. None of them has ever given us any real challenges. They have obeyed household rules, done well in school, respected our values, served in their communities, and tried to be good people. I have always tried to teach them that genuine Christ-like love (i.e., “charity”) is the most important thing any of us can learn. Charity is the whole point of true religion, in my opinion. When our kids were little, this just meant “be nice.” I honestly can’t express how happy I am to see the genuine love and kindness that each of our kids tries to show to other people. They’re not perfect, but I couldn’t be more pleased with the way each of them is conducting their lives. 

That includes my admiration of the maturity, kindness, and grace with which Weston has navigated the spiritual and emotional dichotomies associated with being raised a Latter-day Saint and coming out publicly as a gay man in May 2019. Earlier, Wes came out privately to Cheryl, me, and his siblings when he was a junior in high school in the fall of 2015. As I’ll explain further in Chapter 3, I feel like God helped prepare me to be a loving and accepting father for Wes when he came out to us. I was so proud of the courage he showed and felt honored that he trusted me with his feelings – because he knew my views have not always been gay-friendly. It was easy to feel nothing but intense love for Wes when he came out to us because, aside from loving him as my son, I appreciate what an amazing person he is. He is smarter than me and a deeper thinker than me (although maybe a bit more absent-minded too, at times ☺). At every age as he’s grown, he has been more spiritually minded, mature, and kinder to others than I ever was at the same age. He is more talented in writing than I can ever hope to be (sorry, readers, I’m sure you’d find this book much more enjoyable to read if Wes were writing it). I am not only supportive of Wes, but I am in awe of him. 

Despite the pain Wes has felt from some religious teachings, he remains firmly rooted in his strong Christian faith. I would still love and support him even if he didn’t have faith, but, because I believe in Christ, I am grateful for what I have learned about Christian discipleship in the face of hardship through Wes’ example. I am truly, genuinely happy about the choices he has made. I am deeply grateful he is my son. I could say the same thing and describe many other wonderful attributes about each of my other kids as well, including how they each love God and others in their own unique and amazing ways. But because this book is about LGBTQ issues, I’ll just stick to providing a picture of Wes. 

In addition to all the other things I love about Wes, today I can honestly say I’m happy that he is gay. I know that may surprise some readers here. But I have to say, his being gay has helped open my heart to feel of Christ’s love for him, me, everyone in our family, and everyone in the world in ways I never imagined before. And that feels so good. Amazing, even. I feel closer to God because Wes being gay has altered my perspective and has helped me understand better how all people are created in the image of God. I wouldn’t change a thing about the journey we’ve been on together. We’ve learned to love and support each other as a family with truer charity than I ever knew before. I can’t imagine a better way to have witnessed the principle of charity, which I have emphasized with my kids for so long, be put into practice in our family life. And I have learned to recognize similar positive effects of gay sexual orientation on society: gay individuals and couples engender feelings of tolerance, support, and acceptance, and add diversity in thought and opinion, in ways that bless all of us in society at large. I would have been much slower to wholeheartedly embrace that truth were it not for Wes being gay. So basically, I’m grateful his being gay has made me a kinder, more open-minded person – that’s something I would never want to trade. 

Here is the heartfelt Facebook post that Cheryl made on October 4, 2019: 

“This is going to be long and I apologize in advance, but I feel like I have a lot I need to say. Thank you in advance to those who take the time to read this all and “listen.” I am not an eloquent writer or a very smart person for that matter, but I hope I can adequately portray what I’m trying to. 

Our son, Weston, is gay. He came out to Evan & me when he was 16, after a year of serious depression & suicidal thoughts. He had even tried dating girls and had a girlfriend for a short amount of time. To be totally honest, I knew he was gay from the time he was 8 years old. Certain things he would do or say just made me, as his mom, know. I remember one time he came off the bus in elementary school, clearly upset. One of the boys had called him a faggot. I was so angry. I immediately started driving my kids to and from school. This was just a foreshadowing of the emotional turmoil Wes would have to endure. 

I felt lucky that I had grown up with lots of exposure to wonderful LGBTQ people. I knew many were good, loving, kind people & I also knew that they were who they were. Born that way. It was not a choice or a “lifestyle.” 

Wes didn’t want to be “out” in public at that point in life, so we respected his privacy, but assured him of our endless and unconditional love for him. I think it must have been so hard and lonely for him, knowing his sexuality but trying to hide it from his friends & family members. It was hard for Evan & me to keep it from our friends & families. Many would make comments that were hurtful, not realizing they were making comments to us about our own son. We would always try to correct viewpoints or comments that weren’t kind in a loving way, but it was and is very hard. 

This is when my struggle to balance the love of my child and the love of my church began. Those of you who know me, know I’m a devoted member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Evan and I have sacrificed our time & talents in many ways over the years to serve in many different church positions on the local and for Evan, the regional level. We do our best to be good, kind, faithful people and have taught our children to do the same. The problem I had encountered is that our church teaches that “homosexuality” is a sin. Well, let me rephrase that, they say that ACTING on it is a sin. Now, even before Wes came out to us, this didn’t sit well with me. I believe in a loving God. A God who will accept all His children & I just can’t fathom that He would send some of us to earth saying we should actively avoid seeking lifelong companionship and that true love & passion that is felt in a committed and loving marriage. Despite my feelings about this doctrine the church teaches, I have remained active in our faith. I wanted to try to be the “voice” in the room when people would make comments that were judgmental or unkind. I would always preach love & acceptance, no matter who you are and how you have chosen to live your life. I wanted to be seen as a “safe” person for any youth or adults struggling with this issue. I was also able to try to focus more on other elements of our doctrine - the doctrine of love, acceptance, repentance & forgiveness. 

Weston applied to our church college, BYU, and was accepted there. It was the only school he applied to and was his first choice. He then decided at age 18, just before high school graduation, that he wanted to defer his college acceptance & serve a mission for the church. I pleaded with him not to go. I knew it would be difficult for him to be submersed 24/7 in the church culture. I knew many would say hurtful things. I was worried about his mental health. I was worried about a lot of things. But to his credit, he loves Jesus Christ. He wanted to go to show his devotion. I prayed that people would be kind & that he would be okay. For those of you who are not members of our church, when young men and women serve missions, their families have limited contact with them. Once a week they are allowed to email their families (in February 2019 that policy changed to allow weekly phone/video calls). Before he left on his mission, he opened up to just a few people about his sexuality including our stake president (the man in the church assigned over our region), my sister Lisa & her husband Tagg, & our dear friends, Gordon & Lauren Laws. I was relieved that we at least now had a few people we could talk to & that I knew he could talk to. 

When he got his assignment to the Brazil Curitiba mission, we were so excited for him! He had really wanted to experience a different culture and learn a new language. He was only on his mission for 2 weeks when we got the first email that one of the other missionaries found out he was gay, and the name calling and chastising began. 

Wes somehow handled it well, throwing himself deeper into learning the language and studying the scriptures. In fact, when he arrived to his mission in Curitiba, the mission president (the man in charge of all missionaries in that area) told my sister-in-law (a former neighbor of his in Utah) that they had never had an English speaking, American missionary arrive there speaking Portuguese so well. I will forever be grateful to that mission president. He is a kind, compassionate & loving man. He helped Wes with his struggles & tried to empathize as best he could. 

For the first year of his mission, Wes was pretty happy. He loved the culture & people of Brazil. He was placed with some wonderful companions and when the mission president saw how gifted he was with organizational skills, computer skills & the language, he assigned him to work in the mission office as a liaison for the housing of all the missionaries in their mission. He spent his days finding suitable apartments for the missionaries & managing other housing problems, along with other things the president would assign him to do. He had started to open up to other missionaries about being gay. Some were loving & kind. Others were not. He didn’t tell me all of the things said to him. He knew I would worry. He would send long emails to his dad, Lisa & Gordon. They were the ones who heard most of his thoughts & experiences in a non-filtered way. I think Wes knew that my Mom heart just couldn’t handle hearing some of the things that he experienced. 

Most missionaries serve for a 2-year period. After 18 months on his mission, Wes started struggling with whether he wanted to stay for that whole 2 years. I won’t go into all the private details & I know Wes wouldn’t want me to share some of the insensitive and totally ludicrous conversations of why he decided he just couldn’t do it anymore and what tipped him to a breaking point, but he decided to pray to ask God what he should do. He got the answer to go home, be happy, find a husband & have a family. Now this is the opposite of what the church teaches. They teach to find happiness in a celibate lifestyle and that God will “work it out” in the afterlife. So people questioned whether this answer could really be from God because it would take Wes down a different path in life. Wes still firmly believes that the church is good. He told us he didn’t want us to leave on his account. He loves many of its teachings, but just knows there is no place for him in it right now. He still believes in Jesus Christ. 

He was finally ready to come home & be out to the world! I was so happy that he didn’t have to hide who he really was anymore, but I also prepared myself for what people would do and say. Evan and I spent many sleepless nights worrying about how our church congregation & family members would react when they found out. I’m now ashamed that I even worried. We experienced an outpouring of love like I have never experienced in my whole life. I can’t tell you how many texts I received from people that touched my heart. Friends from within the church and friends from our community. I have actually saved many of those texts so when I feel discouraged, I can go back and read them. Our extended families were loving. Many of them wept when we told them. Many of them felt bad Wes had suffered in silence. Some made great effort to travel on short notice to be here for Weston’s homecoming. 

After Wes came home, he told us he didn’t want to attend BYU anymore. This complicated things a bit because now we were past the deadline to apply to other schools he was interested in. He decided to apply to a private college he had never thought of before on a whim (at the suggestion of my brother & brother-in-law), since they had rolling admission. To our delight he received a full academic scholarship & has since been attending there. He has been having a great experience and is loving life as he makes new friends and figures out his path in life. He is finally happy! We have been and always will be 100% supportive of what our son chooses, and he will always be a part of our family. Wes has never asked any of us to leave the church on his behalf & encouraged us to keep going. 

Evan, the other kids & myself have been content continuing to attend and serve in church. I was teaching a daily youth Bible study class (known as seminary) in our home every morning & had 12 high school teenagers in my class. Evan continued to serve in his regional calling which he thoroughly enjoyed because it took him to different congregations on a weekly basis & he got to work with many different people. Owen is attending BYU. 

Last weekend our regional leadership had to have a change. The stake president (or leader of our region), whom Evan had been working with as a counselor, was moving. Normal protocol is that the church sends in some “higher ups” (an Area Authority and a General Authority of the church) to pick who the new president will be. Evan [and I met with those church Authorities in multiple interviews over the course of the weekend] ... For personal reasons, and because I do believe everything happens for a reason, I will not go into details here as to what happened or what was said... 

 

I believe in kindness, empathy & forgiveness, but my soul has literally been crushed. I used to think I could happily attend church, serve & still be a safe place & a voice for the LGBTQ community within our church, but after this weekend I am no longer feeling that way. I have NEVER cried the way I cried last weekend. The pain was so intense I almost fell to the ground, but Evan was there to catch me. 

I am beyond distraught, heartbroken and a little angry. For almost a week now I have barely slept or ate. We have sacrificed for years. I was alone many nights with young children while Evan was putting in more than 60 hours every week at work for years, trying to make partner, & still valiantly serving for up to 20 hours a week as the bishop of our local congregation. I could list off 10-20 other positions we have served in over the years. We have both sacrificed. Last weekend, it felt to me that my sacrifices weren’t enough because I had a moment of reaction of love & protection for my son. To put it in “horse terms,” I needed a gentle pat on the neck and encouragement to keep going & instead I felt like I got a heavy-handed slap from a whip. For the first time, I felt like I had to pick between my faith and my family. And I pick my family. 

Evan, I, and each of our kids have had different reactions, responses, and decisions about how they are going to proceed from here. I have personally decided I need a “church break” to heal and process what has happened. I am giving myself until Christmas to regroup and figure out where I can best continue to be a voice and ally of my LGBTQ Latter-day Saint friends. And there are many. Even if they are not “out” yet, they are among us. 

I am not pushing for change. Change can only happen when people’s hearts and minds are open & I believe that the general population of our church is not ready. I am warning the church though. I’m pretty sure none of the “higher ups” sit in a class with 12 teenagers 6 days a week and listen to what their concerns & thoughts are, whether those kids are gay or straight. This younger generation will be lost if we don’t have a better message of love & acceptance for ALL people. They will not only lose younger millennials, but they will also lose long-time faithful members, like me. 

Be kind. Be loving. Be a voice for the minority among us. Befriend those who are different than you. Jesus was the greatest example of teaching the undesired & outcasts of His time. I know that if we just follow His example of love we can get there.” 

Cheryl’s post beautifully describes the same conflict that exists in my heart as I try to reconcile the teachings of my church with the love I have for Wes. I admittedly have the emotion of a Dragon Dad – a father who feels protective of his gay son. But, I have also tried to write from the perspective of a lifelong, faithful, and still-believing member of the church, so people reading this can understand better the sincerity behind my words when I say: I don’t intend to alienate any of my fellow Latter-day Saints from the church with what I have to say. I hope they can draw on their own charitable hearts to feel behind my words my intent to just facilitate greater understanding. 

I do not want to reinforce the idea that LGBTQ people are opposed by the church. Instead, I want to help people feel that the more we love the church, and seek to understand its scriptures and doctrines, the more we will be pro-LGBTQ and feel comfortable hoping for change in the church’s positions. I don’t want anyone reading this book to describe my approach as one that is asking people to “lessen” their devotion to the church in order to accept LGBTQ individuals more fully. Rather, I want church members to see how a greater devotion to Christ’s teachings can lead the way to equality in the church for all marginalized groups. 

As I share our family’s story, I should also acknowledge that Wes does not need me to write any of this. Another complete book could be told from Wes’ point of view. He is happy doing his own thing, living his life, and not rocking the boat for anyone else. Wes is a private person and, while he doesn’t object to anything I’m saying here, he doesn’t like being in the limelight on this issue. And Wes is happy that other people find joy in the church, even though he feels that such joy from the church is not equally available to him as a gay man at this time. Bottom line, he is supportive of me writing this book because he loves me, and he knows it is something I want to do to try to help others. He is supportive of my desire to create better understanding, which will hopefully prevent or minimize church-caused pain for other people – and I pray will also open all of our hearts and minds to the idea that change can still happen in the church. I’m glad Wes is willing to indirectly spend a bit of time in the limelight hoping that someone might be helped by hearing my story. Even if anything I have written in this book only helps one person, I’ll be very grateful for that – and grateful for Wes and all other LGBTQ people for tolerating my inadequacy as I share my own story. 

The main ingredient of my present pain is hopelessness – or, better said, near-hopelessness – because I remain optimistic and believe that further change is inevitable. All of my personal story, explanation, doctrinal exposition, and any theological imagination that you’ll read here are aimed at helping people understand why I hope that the church and its doctrine will be able to someday offer more joy to LGBTQ individuals and their families. 

While I hope the church’s position against marriage equality in our doctrine changes as soon as possible, I recognize I don’t have the authority to speak for the church. I respect the proper channels of church leadership receiving new revelation for the church as a whole. But I do wonder if a concern about asking the church to “run faster than [it] has strength” (Mosiah 4:27) is impeding revelation. I wonder if the prophet doesn’t think church members as a whole are “strong” enough in loving others yet. Maybe, even if just subconsciously, he believes we need to become stronger in loving LGBTQ people before we are trusted to fellowship increased numbers of them. More might start joining (or simply not leaving) the church, once marriage between same-gender spouses is no longer prohibited. Or perhaps the prophet is worried that if marriage equality were doctrinally accepted by the church now, too many homophobic church members would leave. 

In any event, assuming God wants to reveal change now, I think it’s likely the prophet might always have those kind of thoughts in the back of his mind, preventing him from praying with “real intent” (Moroni 10:4) to know God’s will, until more church members’ hearts are softened toward their LGBTQ siblings. I say I presume God wants change now because I don’t believe He views protecting the comfort of one group of His children (cisgender, straight church members) as being more important than relieving the suffering of another group (LGBTQ church members). The scriptures teach us, including most powerfully through Christ’s ministry, that God’s greatest concern rests with helping the marginalized, not in protecting the comforts of the privileged. But, again, I acknowledge I am not authorized to dictate church policy. I am just a regular church member wondering about things and expressing my feelings. 

Which is why, even with my hurt, all my prayers for change include the phrase “if it be Thy will.” Even our Savior asked His Father in the Garden of Gethsemane if suffering could be avoided, if it was His Father’s will. So, while the context is clearly different, I’m praying for God to reveal change if He can – so the suffering of our LGBTQ siblings and their families can end. I want to help more church members recognize that suffering, so that the prophet feels more open to any revelation that might help bring that suffering to an end. 

That being said, I’m not trying to force the correctness of my hope on anyone. I respect others’ right to disagree with me. But I believe the scriptures and modern-day revelation provide a basis to hope, because they call for love and equality for all people. Christ’s core message is love and hope. 

I struggle to think that God created so many people as LGBTQ just to condemn them or make them suffer under the doctrine of His relatively tiny church – in other words, I struggle that our doctrine provides so little hope for SO many of God’s children who are LGBTQ. It hurts to see how church teachings on LGBTQ issues engender feelings of low self-esteem (and often suicidal thoughts) in LGBTQ people here in this life and a vision of the afterlife that is discouraging, to say the least. I know I fall into a category of ultimate privilege in the church, namely, being a straight, cisgender, white male. So my struggle is not nearly as painful as that experienced by many other church members. However, my pain is still real: it hurts to know that the church I love condemns my son for choosing to try to find companionship that is consistent with the way God created him. 

To help you understand my own pain, I’ll share in Chapter 9 more details about the experience we had in September 2019 with one of the General Authorities, which Cheryl mentioned in her post. It hurt to have an experience with a respected church leader that resulted in me feeling like I had to choose between being a disingenuously supportive father or being a less-than-ideal church member in his eyes. I choose the latter because I know, no matter what any church leader may say, that God does not want me to feel guilty about the joy I have over my son’s well-being. As his father, I know Wes was born gay and I trust his judgment that if he married a woman, that union would not likely be long-lasting. I have seen how negative and depressing it is for Wes to believe he has to pursue a life where he will always have to proactively avoid falling in love (“It is not good that the man should be alone” – Genesis 2:18). I rejoice that he has chosen the path that is best for his mental health and that is most likely to result in him building a long-term, stable family for his future kids. That is not a selfish desire for him to have. But the General Authority we met with basically said none of that justified Wes’ decision and that I shouldn’t be happy Wes is “sinning.” I don’t believe the General Authority intended to cause me pain. And he apologized. But, nevertheless, his words were reflective of newly emphasized teachings from our highest church leaders (see Chapter 4), which are the true source of my current sense of near- hopelessness. 

I have found a way to stay active and participate fully in the church by privately hoping and praying (again, if it is God’s will) that change in church doctrine will come someday. So I don’t want pain to be the sole focus of what I’m writing here. Rather, I want hope to be the focus. I can see a path for change that is consistent with existing doctrinal frameworks. I want to show that while teachings from prophets and apostles can sometimes seem to extinguish hope for change in certain areas, that change does still occur – ironically, often shortly after the loudest messages against change are delivered.

Some of my fellow Latter-day Saints may think I am sharing the church’s historical “dirty laundry” with the public or casting our church leaders in a bad light. But I have no intent to besmirch the church or its leaders. And even though certain teachings of church leaders have caused me heartache, I hold no animosity toward those leaders for such teachings. I know they are good men who are trying their best. I love them and many of the other teachings they have shared over their multiple decades of church service. 

I can sustain our prophets and apostles by not expecting them to be perfect – and by explaining clearly exactly why what they say causes me pain. When I was bishop, I appreciated when members of my congregation would tell me when I had said or done something that caused them pain. I even asked regularly in interviews I had with people how I could improve. So I hope my words about the pain I feel from the teachings of our leaders are viewed similarly as productive attempts to improve understanding. 

We are all products of our time and place. Many historical church leaders have said things about race or women, etc. that, with the benefit of hindsight, are appalling to our modern ears. But I know they were still good men who sincerely felt that God was in support of their teachings. I don’t believe they had intentional malice; I think well-meaning prejudice is a better explanation. I believe the same of our leaders today. Heck, I have said things as a church leader, echoing the church’s teachings about gay sexual orientation, that I regret now. While I am sorry I taught those things now, I didn’t think I was causing any harm back when I said them. So I don’t attribute malice to our current leaders now either (although I would like to see them apologize at some point too – I think that’s important to help LGBTQ individuals and their loved ones to heal). 

Because I am publicly acknowledging in this book that church teachings cause pain and am pointing out how it’s possible for our doctrine to change, some church members who read this book might think I am trying to give instructions about how to improve the church. They may believe I am trying to “steady the ark,” which is a phrase that comes from 2 Samuel, chapter 6. It refers to a time when the Ark of the Covenant was being moved over a rough spot and started to topple. A man named Uzzah reached out to try to steady the ark and was struck dead. In commenting on the use of that phrase in Doctrine & Covenants 85:8, a Church Educational System student manual stated: “However well-meaning his intentions, Uzzah approached casually what could only be approached under the strictest conditions. He had no faith in God’s power. He assumed that the ark was in danger, forgetting that it was the symbol of the God who has all power. What man can presume to save God and His kingdom through his own efforts?” (https://www.thechurchnews.com/archives/1993-06-12/warning-against-steadying-ark-142325 ). 

I am writing this book to try to help our LGBTQ siblings, not to try to save God or the institutional church. I am not casually trying to correct God or His kingdom, like Uzzah did. Rather than reaching out to steady or correct, I believe I am just crying out to facilitate awareness. I feel compelled to talk about the pain I see being caused by the words of those charged with carrying the ark. But I am not trying to steady it because I acknowledge that only the prophet and apostles are authorized to finally determine what is best for the institutional church. I am not forming protests to try to force them to change the church’s doctrine. I am just asking questions and sharing my feelings, trying to help everyone understand better the pain that certain of their teachings cause. And I trust that God has everything under control, including for all LGBTQ people who leave the church and any back-up plans for healing. I am confident God will find ways for His work to be done, with or without me. So I am just focused on trying to keep the promise I made to God when I was baptized to “comfort those who stand in need of comfort” (Mosiah 18:8-9). I am not focused on giving orders to God or to church leaders. 

For what it’s worth, I think talking openly about the challenges that LGBTQ church members and their supporters are having is actually a positive thing for the church, missionary-wise. Several people reached out to us in response to Cheryl’s post, saying they assumed we were anti- gay just because we are “Mormon.” Someone else actually said they would have learned more about our church when they met with the missionaries if they had known it was possible to have pro-gay opinions and still be a member. I know people who have actually decided to join our faith after learning church members don’t have to be anti-gay. Ultimately, I believe it’s better for the growth of the church in the long run for us to confront our complicated issues than to conceal them. (I think it’s better for “houseguests” who are exploring whether to join our church “family” to see that we are normal and have some doctrinal “messes” in our home, than it is for them to find out later that we’ve hid all our messes in proverbial “closets.”) 

“If we have truth, [it] cannot be harmed by investigation. If we have not truth, it ought to be harmed.” (J. Reuben Clark, Apostle, https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/J._Reuben_Clark , from his personal journal, 1917) 

Some people think I would be better off emotionally and spiritually if I just set my concerns on a proverbial shelf to deal with later. Many people talk about doing that – putting their doubts or concerns with the church or its teachings on a shelf and just moving on with their lives in faith. I don’t usually like the idea of placing concerns aside, because I think we grow more personally by continuing to study through and struggle with our doubts (“wrestling with God” as in Genesis 32:24, Enos 1:2 and Alma 8:10). At the same time, I do acknowledge the wisdom in being patient while waiting for answers. And I would be patient just quietly waiting if it were solely my well-being that was involved. I’ve already received my answer from God about how to feel personally regarding my son leaving the church and about doctrinal marriage equality in general. If it were just me I was worried about, I would be fine continuing to attend church without ever speaking up about LGBTQ issues or writing this book. 

But it’s not just me I’m worried about. I feel an obligation – in fact, I made a covenant to God when I was baptized, renewing that covenant weekly at church ever since – to comfort those who stand in need of comfort. I think the parable of the Good Samaritan applies here (Luke 10:25- 37). I don’t want to be like the priest or the Levite and simply look away and continue on my way when I see someone in pain. I want to be like the Samaritan and use whatever good fortune I may have to try to help relieve that suffering. If I just put my concerns on a shelf and kept going along quietly with my own worship, I fear I would be like the priest and the Levite. 

One reader of an earlier draft of this book told me they couldn’t keep reading all the way through because it was too sad. I acknowledge it’s a tough topic, but I’ve tried to focus on hope as much as I can. And (spoiler alert) this book ends on a high note in the last chapter by talking about how I’ve learned to reconcile painful church teachings on LGBTQ issues with my love of God and my commitment to stay in the church. I personally feel ecstatic about how my journey has taught me to love better – more like how Christ wants me to love, I feel. I believe I’ve found a happy ending, due in part to doing the hard work to bring my doubts and concerns to the Lord. 

But I don’t want to condemn anyone who needs to simply place their concerns aside to maintain their faith. I understand that having a shelf available on which to store our concerns when we’re too tired to productively wrestle with them can be important. That being said, for some of us, there simply is no shelf – there’s only a bleeding LGBTQ loved one on the road to Jericho.