Many LDS parents of LGBTQ+ kids find themselves at a crossroads when their kid comes out. There, they might just encounter Evan Smith and his book, aptly titled, Gay Latter-Day Saint Crossroads. As a former bishop and counselor in a stake presidency who changed his own mind on things after ministering to those he served -- and even more so when his own son later came out, Evan knows quite a bit about this intersection. He has now written the resource he wished his family had been given many years ago, with hopes his family’s experience might help others.

Evan and his wife Cheryl reside in a town south of Boston, where Evan is an attorney and Cheryl runs a business that purchases, sells, and cares for competitive show horses. They are the parents of Wes (22), Owen (20), Laurel (18), and Karissa (14), who are each “wonderful and kind, and we couldn’t be prouder of who they are as people.” Wes shares his father’s love for the written word, and is an English major now finishing his first fantasy novel. (He also excels at e-sports.) And it is Wes’ story that planted the Smith family at this crossroads back in 2015, when at 16 years old, Wes told his parents he is gay.

At the time, Evan was serving as bishop of their ward. He recalls Wes had been depressed (and suicidal, his parents later learned) for over a year before then. “We knew something wasn’t right, but didn’t know how to help him because he wasn’t very clear with us about what was wrong. Due to some homophobic comments I had made while he was growing up, based mostly on my flawed understanding of how I thought God viewed gay people, he was scared to come out. Fortunately, I had another youth in our ward come out to me as bishop before this time, which softened my heart and inspired me to learn more about LGBTQ issues.”

If the Bishop would have asked me to speak on this topic even just five years ago, I would have jumped at the chance. 25 years ago, I would have been on my mission in Mexico, and I would have been begging to share my thoughts on what I believed with anyone who would listen. This, however, is not the case today. I come to you with much tenderness in my heart, and a prayer that my message will be received with love and an open heart.

Belief had always come easy for me. The church and all that it entailed was my bread and butter. It all made sense. It all fit. Any questions that I might have struggled with were often answered by a conference talk or a quick search in the scriptures or placed on the proverbial shelf. Of course, we had trials… big and painful trials. But in these trials, I found comfort and peace in places like the temple and the simple routine of attending my meetings and serving in my callings. But something happened to us a little over four years ago that forever changed my faith. My faith is no longer wide and all encompassing. It is narrow. It is nuanced. It is much more personal, and much more sacred to me. It is no longer the mountain I had once thought it to be. It is back to its seed like innocence and requires much tending and care.

With permission from my son, I’d like to share with you where my new faith journey began. A little over four years ago, I was in the Primary Presidency and was placed in charge of the Primary Program. On the morning of, we were home and I was going over all of the possible mishaps that might occur. I had a backup plan if someone didn’t show up. I had a backup plan if someone got stage fright and clammed up at the mic. I had a backup plan for my back up plans. I was ready. In the craziness of that morning, I noticed my son Deacon, who was 13 at the time, sitting outside by himself on the porch. I could sense a heaviness about him. He had not been himself as of late. He was more quiet, withdrawn, and had a sadness about him. I pulled him into my room and asked him what was wrong. He looked at me for a long time, not saying anything, tears welling in his eyes, a pained look on his face, afraid to speak. Afraid to voice his truth. It was as if time slowed. I knew what he wanted to tell me. I knew what he was going to say. And tears pricked at my eyes too. And I whispered. “You can just say it. Just say it.” And he sobbed. “Mom, I’m gay.”