A LIFT+LOVE FAMILY STORY

My brother is gay.

We are both now in our mid-50s, so that means our journeys started in the 1960s. Here is a bit of a retrospective:

As kids, I never thought anything was different about Joe. We were brother and sister, and that was that. Joe was Joe. He was, however, the cutest. The family landed on that word - “cutest” - because it summed up everything about him: his kind nature, wit, charm, musical gifts, insights, and intelligence, not to mention his good looks or that he was always followed by a flock of adoring friends. It was evident everywhere we went, not just in our family. I’d hear people tell my parents how extraordinary he was. People would stop me on the street and tell me. Once I even overheard a complete stranger exclaim, “I travel every year from Sioux City just to see Joe!” This became easier to hear as I got older - when I could finally discern that, truly, Joe really is the cutest. It worked its way into the family lexicon:  “Why did Joe beat us in Monopoly?... get the extra slice of pie? ... get chosen as valedictorian speaker?” “Because Joe is the cutest, naturally.” The saying was a joke rooted in truth. 

All this cuteness never occurred to me to be anything more than just outrageous luck. 

In those times (the 70s), the only references that I ever heard publicly about gay people were very negative. Very negative. Vulgar and fear-based. But at home, if the topic were to come up, we heard a much different story.  Being gay was just different - no better, no worse - but because it affected such a small minority of people, we should always be kind and loving - they were vulnerable. Mom spoke of San Francisco with respect. Wasn’t it wonderful that a city opened its doors wide to people that had been rejected by family and society? A place where everyone could live peaceably?

What a dichotomy of perspectives!

So I went on my merry way and landed at BYU. Joe went to a small liberal arts school in the Midwest. I couldn’t understand his choice. We had grown up with so few church members that I was DYING to get to the land of the Mormons. He hadn’t enjoyed the scouting program at church and was often the only boy there his age. Church was just awkward for him - except for the music, where he was in a regular rotation of providing the special musical numbers in sacrament meeting. 

Finally, after graduation (now the 80s), Joe came out to me. What? I never once connected the dots. Never.

That was certainly a different time. Joe wasn’t like the negative words that I had heard on the street. Not one bit. He was great. He was the best. I was lucky he was on my team. And although our family had a more loving and broad description of the complexities of homosexuality, I still hadn’t considered it being that close to me. Willful ignorance?

Here’s the part of the story where I now hang my head in shame: I tried to talk him out of it. “Your life would be so much easier if you just wouldn’t be gay. OK?” He was very patient with me. Explained a TON about it not just being a sex thing, but a worldview thing. And that it wasn’t a choice, it simply was. These conversations went on for many years as he worked to educate me. Back then the word “ally” was only a WWII reference for the good guys. It would have been a useful word for me to understand.

So we went on. He left the church after the church left him. 

We hit bumps along the way, but we always managed to put each other first over differing views or allegiances. Most of that grace was on his part, and sadly, not on mine. With more exposure and learning, more growth came. Meanwhile, I knew in my gut that what I heard at church was incorrect. I chalked it up to old-school ideas. (I mean, face cards? Really?) So it was an easy step to see that “the words” were not infallible. Also, as I matured in the gospel and spent more time in the scriptures, I became more and more troubled - good trouble - that a lot of our commonly held beliefs are not grounded in scriptures or in Christ at all. Then came the explosion of light as online resources, including Lift+Love, created a wellspring and repository of archived lived experiences. Open conversations here and there. T and this created a calm strength. All of this has helped me to articulate my views more clearly and to more openly disagree with lessons, casual conversations, and off-hand comments that wander into hurtful paths. I am at once grateful for this, while also ashamed that I couldn’t get there on my own. But still, I am here now. 

Joe and I remain close still. Very close. My husband and I attended and participated in his beautiful wedding. Our kids love spending time with Joe and his husband, sending them outlandish Happy Guncles’ Day cards. All is well between us. 

Except. Except for the church aspect. He is very supportive of our affiliation and our work in the church, but he is sharp and direct about many of the church’s actions, comments, and inconsistencies. I have grown to love this. It is real. It challenges me. It is not an echo chamber. 

I am also aware that this is my version of the story. Joe would likely have more and different things to say. I work hard to keep positivity between us because there can still be hot spots that sting, and that is exactly why I share this anonymously. I was and remain a witness - an evolving witness - to this story.

In summary, Joe remains the cutest. I have changed. A lot. I still worry about being a crummy big sister at a very important time and for a very long time. But grace is beautiful. On my end, I try to do better because I know better. I advocate calmly and firmly for others. I keep an open door. I seek to love my neighbor --as my highest ideal. I keep an open door.  And from where I stand, I can see light, and it is beautiful.!

** We’d like to thank our (anonymous) contributor this week for sharing your heart and wisdom. Artwork: Anselm Kiefer’s “The Renowned Orders of the Night”

THE STEPHENSON FAMILY

Every Christmas Eve, you can find the Stephenson family ice skating with their cousins near their hometown of South Jordan, UT, then eating dinner at Red Robin, a tradition that began several years ago when dinner plans were abruptly canceled and they found themselves with nowhere to eat. The tradition stuck. As did that of the Stephenson kids decorating their tree and the house each year while their mom, Kelli, acts as holiday music DJ on the couch after hanging her one and only decoration – a Bah Humbug wreath on the front door. Additional (more traditional) holiday week festivities include looking at lights, shopping, a Chic-fil-A run, opening sibling and grandkid gifts on Christmas Eve, and movie nights featuring several holiday classics: Elf, Christmas Vacation, A Christmas Story, Family Man, and Daddy’s Home 2. But one thing that sets the Stephenson apart from many families is that Kelli and Scott have not one but two LGBTQ+ sons in their line-up of five kids: Ashly (a 28-year-old married mother of two), Colby – 23, Eli – 21, Zach – 19, and Emma – 16. 

Kelli says that while she sensed Zach was gay since he was very young, older brother’s Eli coming out really shocked her. He was 15 and the revelation came at a stressful time for the family. Their oldest daughter was living with them and expecting a baby any day, their youngest daughter had just been diagnosed with diabetes, and middle child Eli had been struggling with sibling dynamics and mental health issues for some time. But Kelli had just experienced a small victory, coming in third place Masters at the Utah Valley Marathon. After the race, she climbed into the car with Scott, eager to celebrate, but it was clear he was in a grumpy mood. He abruptly shared that Zach had texted him and told him that Eli was gay. It was a long drive home.

When Scott and Kelli got home, they asked Eli about his brother’s text. Eli said he was bisexual and that it was a big reason he had been struggling so much the past couple of years.  A few months later, Eli shared that he was actually gay, then a few years later, pansexual, and now, along with his partner, identifies as nonbinary using the pronouns they when with friends and he at home. Kelli says Eli’s life has been marked with a series of struggles over the years – well beyond his sexuality. He started seeking counseling shortly after coming out, and still sees the same wonderful counselor who has helped both him and Zach over the years. Kelli says, “At first he thought he’d try to stay in the church and marry a woman. But that idea was fleeting as he learned to love and embrace his true self.” Eli’s branched out of his SLC family’s turf to Provo of all places, where he enjoys visiting Encircle with his partner, and finds the BYU culture rather affirming. Kelli was also pleasantly surprised to find the Utah Valley community largely loving when she marched in her first Pride event this summer near BYU’s campus. While she expected slurs and bottles to be thrown, she says instead, they received supportive honking and loving cheers. 

Eli currently attends an Episcopalian church in Provo, where he enjoys lighting the unity candles and listening to sermons given by a female Deacon whom he respects and connects with. His parents recently joined him for a Sunday Service and they felt a very strong and affirming spirit and knew their son had found a good place to feed his spirit and feel God’s love and acceptance. They are pleased that he has found a faith home: “Everyone needs a place where they feel like they belong.”  While Eli doesn’t agree with LDS doctrine in its entirety and has struggled with some policies, Kelli says he always felt loved and accepted by the people in the ward in which he was raised. Recently he called her to find out what time church was in their previous ward because he wanted to go visit the people he loved – including some “prickly pears” that other congregants found hard to connect with.

While Eli has held many jobs trying to find his place in the world, and has taken his time with his schooling, he recently took a criminal justice class at SLCC taught by his police officer father, and Scott told Kelli, “He’s so smart. One of the best writers I’ve ever taught.”  His final paper was on transgender rights in the prison system. Eli would like to be an English teacher someday, like his mom. 

While Zach was also outed at age 15, ironically by Eli (sibling revenge cycle complete), his experience has been different in that he has always felt an affinity for the gospel. But Kelli says he struggled to feel accepted by some of the young men in the ward and experienced incessant bullying from a group of girls while in high school. He was always the Stephenson’s most religious child, and had excelled with school, always maintaining a 4.0 until the bullying began.  His last two years of high school were difficult, but he did eventually find his place. He also was a spiritual giant in seminary where, according to his teacher, “he practically taught the class” until he abruptly quit at the end of his senior year due to a group of “toxic friends” who talked him into it. He still regrets this choice as it left his seminary teacher wondering what he could have done better. Zach now works every Sunday and no longer attends church, but Kelli says he will still defend the gospel and hopes to find a partner who has an LDS background and hopes one day to be able to attend an affirming ward together with his spouse.

Kelli says, “Zach’s testimony is stronger than mine, by mountains. When he first came out, he was adamant he’d marry a woman instead of a man, until a year later when he realized that marrying a woman might end up destroying a family 20 years later. He won’t do that.” From 16, he knew he needed to be true to who he was in order to find peace and happiness. He hopes to be able to do that within the church somehow. None of the Stephenson’s five children attend church anymore for various reasons. Kelli and Scott still attend and take their grandson. They appreciate that their new neighbors and the bishopric of their new ward seem to prioritize love and acceptance for all. So far, they have been met with kindness, and every lesson taught and conversation with those in leadership has been inclusive and kind. 

Scott wasn’t raised in the church, but grew up in Utah, where he recounts some childhood neighbors were told to steer clear of his non-LDS family. Kelli was raised in the church but many of her friends and neighbors were not LDS. She was taught to love and accept everyone, regardless of their religion. Kelli says Scott (who serves in YM while she teaches the five-year-olds in Primary) now definitely knows the scriptures better than she does and has a testimony that awes her. His life was not easy, but he had the example of amazing convert grandparents who were a pillar of strength for him.

Of her testimony, Kelli says, “I have the faith of a child. I just know that the church is true, and I don’t know why. I do not question the gospel, although sometimes I may question an individual within the gospel. I have this strange ability to dismiss things I don’t agree with,” says Kelli. “I can hear something troubling at conference or church and think, ‘Well, that doesn’t seem right,’ and just move on. I generally talk to God in my head and simply say, ‘I don’t understand this, but I know you do and will help me understand.’ This is what I did with the Exclusion Policy in 2015. God guided my research and helped me understand the intent, even though I believed the policy would not accomplish this purpose the way it was written, and I didn’t agree with it. This always worked until that one talk at BYU -- that one was hard because the message was incongruent with the past messages of this apostle.” Referencing Elder Holland’s August 2021 talk to the school’s faculty, Kelli posted on her Facebook account: “My faith is not wavering.  My testimony has not been shaken.  I am as strong in the church as ever. It’s ok to question and/or be hurt by a talk from a prophet or an apostle. It says nothing about my faith and does not mean I do not sustain my leaders and the leaders of the church. Jesus taught us to go after the one when the ninety and nine are safe and together. That’s what flying a pride flag or wearing a rainbow pin or putting up a welcome sign for LGBTQ+ youth who are brave enough to go to seminary does — it goes after the one. The ninety and nine have been safe and welcomed all along; the one has been made to feel unwhole, wrong, and often cast out as a sinner when they are just being who God made them. I will continue to rainbowfy every part of my life that I can to call back and welcome the one. I see them, I hear them, I love them, they are my children (literally and figuratively).”

Indeed, Kelli shows her LGBTQ+ support visually in her middle school English classroom and is co-chairing the first GSA club at her school this year. The district doesn’t allow Pride flags to be hung and Kelli’s own kids would prefer not to have that visual announcement hung at all times in their own home. But her sons love that Kelli does what she can within district policy and uses rainbows in her classroom décor, from stickers on her always present Swig cup, to the rainbow mug that holds the rainbow popsicle sticks used to randomly call on students, to a 3-D rainbow butterfly mural on one wall, as well as a sign that greets every student at the door: “All are welcome here.” “I survive each day because my kids tell me they love me. I’m not a perfect parent, but I apologize when I make mistakes, so they know I’m trying.  And Zach and Eli have told me they’re glad they have me so that gives me peace.” In turn, Kelli’s grateful that things are now easier for her kids than they were 30 years ago for her close friend’s mother who was gay, and even 10 years ago for another family member who came out as gay in a family steeped in LDS tradition and culture. “I know it’s cliché, but we need to just love. That’s all. No judgement or casting stones or questioning, just love.”  She is very grateful that extended family has shown nothing but love and acceptance for her children. That love goes a long way in allowing them to live authentic lives without fear of repercussions from family, the ones they need the most.

Right before the Stephenson family moved this summer, Zach approached the pulpit to bear his testimony in the ward in which he’d been raised. He pulled a card out of his scriptures that Kelli thought he’d lost a long time ago. It was a note his bishop had given him when he was 15 and feeling he was unworthy to be ordained a priest because he was gay. But Zach had kept that card, which contained the scripture D&C 18:10 and the simple words “You are loved” -- three words he really wanted to share. Three words that say it all.

THE HUNTER FAMILY

John and Jenie Hunter of Brandon, FL had been trying to have children for some time when the opportunity presented itself to adopt a baby boy from a teen mom in Tennessee. They were ecstatic to bring their son Nicholas (now 24) home, and further thrilled when they were able to later have five biological daughters, Grace – 21, twins Ellie and Sarah Jane – 19, Mary – 17, and Kate – 12. As they raised their kids, John and Jenie noticed other differences about Nick -- besides being the oldest and only boy. They wondered how much nature vs. nurture played into things. “He was always exceptionally artistic,” says John. “He’d come to me and say, ‘Dad, draw me the ship from Star Wars,’ and I was like ‘Uh…,’ and then he’d proceed to draw it out with incredible detail. He saw the whole world in lines and shapes. He was always so creative. We love that about him.”

Nick also went through phases of becoming consumed with random passions – tractors, diamonds, skeletons, Faberge eggs. As he grew, his parents noticed more differences between him and their other kids and they started to wonder if he might be gay. When Nick was 14, Jenie could tell something was weighing on him and they started going to counseling. Shortly after, she says, “I went to the temple and had an impression where the Lord told me, ‘Nick’s gay.’ I came home and told John, and he believed me.” They decided Jenie would take Nick on a date to discuss it. They went to a museum, and at lunch, Jenie asked her son, “Nick, is this something you’re dealing with?” Nick started crying and said he was so relieved Jenie had asked him, and was so accepting of his affirmative response. He then shared he’d been so nervous his parents would kick him out of the house, based on what had happened to other kids who he had read about online. Jenie went home to John that night and confirmed their impressions were real. John says, “While it didn’t hit us out of the blue like it does for some families, it was still hard. Life was difficult. You could tell Nick was in emotional pain. We were just happy we could have a real discussion about it all.”

Growing up the only son in an LDS household, John says there were built-in expectations that your kid would do this or that, or hit this benchmark, that he’s sure Nick felt the pressure of. The family pivoted as they realized some of those things might not lie in Nick’s future. Jenie says, “We didn’t know a lot of people with gay children and how we should handle everything. We were making it up as we went. We made a lot of rookie mistakes. One time, we even suggested a weekend camp he could go to and maybe he’d come back differently.” John acknowledges there’s both a learning and grieving process all parents of LGBTQ+ go through as they readjust their expectations and preconceived notions of what parenting their kid might be like. Jenie says in hindsight, she’s not sure whether it was the chicken or the egg, but when Nick turned 16, he really started struggling with emotional issues. He started self-medicating with drugs and spent a year in a residential treatment center that initially was a very difficult thing for all the family, but he now credits the experience with saving his life.  

The Hunters are very open with their family’s journey, and they say their Florida ward family has been supportive and accepting. Back in high school, Nick started dating guys and his parents were fine with this, as long as he adhered to the same standards they expected of their daughters, many of which were from the For the Strength of Youth pamphlet. They laugh, remembering one time Jenie drove an hour away to meet a guy Nick had a date with just because they had a family rule that they had to first meet all their kids’ dates. John says, “Just because you’re gay, it doesn’t mean you have a different set of standards.”

Jenie was an early morning seminary teacher, and Nick was her best student. Now, as a student at UVU, he attends church “occasionally.” He says things are a little harder culturally for him in Utah, but likes to go back to his home ward in Florida with his family. His parents are impressed how Nick is as much an ally as LGBTQ himself. He’s open with sharing his story as he believes, “If I can help anyone, I’ll do it.” The Hunters have always maintained a strong relationship with lots of love and support, even during his tough years. “Our love is not transactional.” And John and Jenie love that their daughters are the biggest allies and maintain a close relationship with Nick. Both Grace and Sarah Jane, who now attend BYU, are in the same town with him and get together often. 

Nick loves his Savior Jesus Christ but chose not to serve a mission because he didn’t feel comfortable teaching all the doctrine. He wants a happy marriage partnership like his parents, and they likewise want him to find his person. Jenie says it’s “heart-breaking” to imagine him living his whole life alone. While Nick’s told his parents a dream of his is to have all his future kids baptized and to have his family in the LDS church, his parents say he still finds it challenging to balance his testimony and beliefs versus other positions of the church. Counseling has been a positive addition to his life, and he is now studying psychology to become an art therapist for kids. He’d like to specialize in helping LGBTQ+ kids. 

Currently, while attending school, Nick works as a preschool teacher in Park City, and his parents say he loves the unconditional love the children he teaches show him. They also say he continues to be an amazing artist: “He can turn garage junk into a sculpture we could sell. He can build a robot out of a pool noodle and a broken chair.” John admits it’s a continual process for he and Jenie to build Nick up and reassure him they love him. “We tell him we’re here to support him on his journey and can’t even begin to understand how hard it is. But no matter what, we’ll stand with him. We loved the part in Tom Christofferson’s book about how Tom’s mother said that how the family treats Tom and his partner (of the time) will let all the family members know that nothing can ever change the way their parents feel about them. I’ve had to learn and grow to be able to recognize there’s not just one way, or perhaps my way is not always the only way. There are lots of paths – some zigzag, some have a lot of detours and scenic overlooks, but you eventually make it there.”

John says he loves all the things that are different about Nick, because they help John himself to be a better person. “I’m changing, I’m learning, I’m growing. I have more charity, more understanding, more empathy. This all impacts my journey, too. He’s helping me become who the Lord wants me to be. Having an LGBTQ child allows us a great canvas to grow with. You learn more how the Savior treats everyone. I’m a better person because Nick’s my son.” These lessons have helped John greatly through his current service as stake president as he counsels others who are met with various challenges and growth experiences. He strongly agrees with President Nelson that anytime we show love to another, we are helping people feel the love of their Savior and assisting the work of exaltation.

Jenie also says being Nick’s parent has been a privilege, and she encourages other mothers in her position to “embrace the calling.” When she first understood this was to be her path, Jenie said she barely knew anyone else in her same position, so she went to a good life coach who helped her navigate. She then got certified to coach herself, and she felt the Lord pushing her toward helping other LGBTQ families. You may now recognize Jenie as a familiar face at Lift and Love where we are lucky to have her help Allison run the podcast, support groups, and coaching program. In 2019, when Jenie first stumbled upon @liftandloveorg, she says, “I was impressed that here was a place I can work to keep people tethered to the Savior while navigating their journey as an LGBTQ family. These are some of the most amazing moms I’ve ever met. I want to help people stay connected to Christ and the gospel; He’s our partner in this.” 

The Hunters have helped start an LGBTQ FHE group in their Tampa, FL-area stake. John is buoyed by the thought that “there is room in the choir for everyone.” He says, “We have to continue to make everyone feel more welcome at church. It should be diverse. We need and want everyone. Anytime someone wants to make Christ a part of their life, we want them.”

THE CHAPMAN FAMILY

“It wasn’t a shock,” Susan Chapman says of her 21-year-old daughter, Sarah, coming out earlier this year. In fact, when Sarah was in high school, Susan tried to broach the subject herself with a “Hey, so…” Sarah would laugh and tell her friends, “My mom thinks I’m gay.” Susan now knows Sarah wasn’t ready to admit it just yet. 

Brought up LDS, Sarah was under the impression that perhaps it was something that might go away after she served a mission. But during her mission, Sarah realized this is who she is and it isn’t going anywhere. When she returned, she thought she might date guys, but quickly realized that also wasn’t going to work out. Shortly after, Susan visited her daughter for her birthday, and Sarah shared a particular Questions from the Closet podcast episode with her mom. Susan says she isn’t proud of how she responded at the time, and the next day apologized for not being as open as she would have liked. “When I went home from that trip, I really realized: my daughter is gay. Heavenly Father was preparing me.” She asked Sarah if anything was troubling her. Sarah replied, “I’m just dealing with some stuff.” Susan said, “You might as well tell me because I think you’ll feel better once you do. I already know, but you’re going to have to tell me.” Sarah said, “How did you know?” Susan said, “God told me.”

The truth is, they were both dealing with a lot of really heavy stuff. In November of 2020, Susan’s husband Ryan had been diagnosed with colon cancer. He had lost his own father to a different form of cancer a year prior, and Ryan’s prognosis also did not look good. Sarah asked her mom not to tell her dad about her orientation, but Susan did – an action that upset her daughter, and the two did not speak for a few days, which was very out of character for them. But Susan needed the support of her spouse – her best friend, and most importantly, she knew that Sarah would need to know she had her dad’s support while he was still with them, if things were to go south.

Indeed, Ryan instantly expressed unconditional love for his daughter, and his own previous ideologies about what it meant to be gay changed on a dime once it hit home with his own daughter. Susan says he told her that up until that point, he wanted to believe it was a choice -- that if someone did not want to be gay, they could choose not to be. To each his own. But now, he knew that he had misunderstood. 

Susan said that while their community rallied around them through Ryan’s public battle with cancer, she was also privately processing the confirmation of Sarah’s reality. During those first few days, Susan got her hands on every source of information she could and listened to many Audible books to help her understand and prepare. She had a strong impression that this was something her daughter had signed up for in the pre-existence: primarily to advocate for others and create change. The family always joked about their daughter’s leadership and pioneering vision: “Sarah for President,” they’d say. Sarah is the second oldest of siblings Jared -23 (who is married to Brooke), Emma – 19, Joseph – 17, Joshua – 15, and Jacob – 12. As a child, she was very athletic, loving volleyball and basketball, and very intelligent. “I cannot match wit with her. She’s always going to win an argument, so I’ve learned not to argue with her,” laughs Susan. 

Her mother also lauds her genuine compassion for others. The Chapman family had two foster kids, ages 4 and 9, when Sarah was in high school and Susan watched Sarah develop an immense compassion for them and frustration with “the system.” Now she’s seeing that compassion shift to another cause: LGBTQ+ equality. “I’m excited to see what she does with it, because she genuinely feels called to help others.” And in turn, so does Susan as her mother. “I guess I must have signed up for this, too.” 

Susan is grateful for a predominately supportive local church community who have reached out with love. She is grateful a friend in her Tuscon, AZ ward is now trying to start an LGBTQ support group. Susan’s nephew is gay, so it was “a moot point” for her side of the family, who’ve already been down this road and fully support Sarah. Susan says it’s been nice to see Ryan’s side of the family also show love.

When deciding to come out publicly in a recent Instagram post (@s.chappity), Sarah first consulted Ben Schilaty for advice, and she appreciates those like him who have been open about their orientation. Sarah longs for positive, LGBTQ female role models in the church, and is on track to be one herself. She is employed by the LDS church in a teaching capacity, and is grateful she has been told by her supervisors that she should live her life with authenticity.

Susan says that Sarah has a deep understanding that she is a child of God and that He loves her immensely. She loves sharing this knowledge with her classroom, and hopes to make others in similar positions feel God’s love for them. The first time she acknowledged she’s gay to a class, Sarah said she felt like she was going to throw up, but she felt comforted seeing that a few in the room gave her subtle thumbs up signs. She’s not sure what the future holds, but for now, she feels called to stay in the church and share the message that people like her are loved completely and unconditionally by their Heavenly Parents.

By fully supporting her daughter, Susan says she is also on board to fully support whatever actions and life steps Sarah takes down the road. “I don’t want her to ever be afraid to tell me if she starts dating, or kisses someone. I want us always to be open and close.” Susan, who is crafty, was more than happy to make a fall rainbow wreath that hangs on their door with pride. Several of her friends (of other Christian faiths) have told her how impressed they are with her daughter sharing her truth, and how the family’s love and support have been positively modeled by them as members of the LDS faith. “I think we’ve come a long way, but we’re still learning,” she says. For other parents who may be struggling, Susan offers the wise advice, “Your child is still your child; they didn’t change. They’re the exact same person they were before they told you. So this shouldn’t change anything. I know some parents might feel shocked at first – and I try to remember that. Though, I’m grateful I was prepared and wasn’t totally shocked.”

Susan says there is some learning she observes that needs to take place with certain leaders so that they might be more inspired to create a safe space for our LGBTQ brothers and sisters. “The leadership sets the tone for the ward. So as leaders, we must show love and support. The youth are always listening, and when you’re gay, you’re on hyper alert – you know where you’re safe, and where you’re not. You want to create a ward, stake, and seminary class where you know you’re safe. I worked with the youth, and they knew they were always safe with me.” Susan also wants people to know there is a better way to respond when someone comes out to you. Before Sarah hit send on her post, Susan was comforted knowing she had friends on standby ready to respond with, “We love you. We support you. Thank you for sharing this part of you with us.” She also said there were those who didn’t respond at all and who seemed to avoid Susan the Sunday after her daughter’s post. “You notice.” But overall, they are very optimistic about Sarah finding her place and making change.

On August 23, 2021, Ryan Chapman succumbed to cancer, with his loving family at his side. Susan says that in hindsight, both she and Sarah are grateful that Susan told Ryan what she did when she did, because when he followed up with Sarah shortly after, he was still in strong enough health that their conversation was deep and meaningful. And now, Sarah will forever know she has her father’s full love and support. Susan is also grateful to know that Ryan can and will support Sarah in more ways than they will ever know from the other side.

THE SAIS FAMILY

“This is a season Rebecca and Jeff Sais have eagerly anticipated for a long time. Jeff comes from a multi-generational farming family; and after working for four decades in the agricultural business himself, he was able to retire in August. Now the couple is in Provo’s Missionary Training Center preparing to embark on 18 months of senior missionary service in Kentucky, where they have been tasked with developing the church’s ARP program -- an opportunity they say never would have happened if it weren’t for their testimony of the Savior that deepened through raising their daughter, Lindsey (41).

Lindsey is the oldest of her siblings, John – 39, Erin – 33, and Andy – 31. The Sais kids were all born in Idaho, and raised in Santa Maria, CA where they moved in ’93. Rebecca and Jeff have always strictly followed the principles of their LDS faith. As a child, Rebecca says Lindsey was very spiritual and obedient, super bright, and always loved school. She also loved looking for worms to sell and playing outside, and was the head of her T-ball team. She did not like pink or anything frilly. Rebecca now regrets that there were times she tried to encourage her daughter to wear her hair differently, or otherwise be something she wasn’t. After entering high school, Lindsey later got involved with friends who drank and smoke pot. She also had no interest in dating and never expressed wanting to do so. While her parents had suspicions about Lindsey’s reality, Rebecca says, “We were in denial. We didn’t talk about it. We tried to love and support her the best we knew how, but she had different ideas and became closed off.”

Long Beach State became Lindsey’s new home after high school, and in college, her drinking and drug use became a problem. She’d occasionally visit home, where house rules mandated she align with gospel living, and this caused some friction between her and her parents. While at school, Lindsey became involved with a (non-LDS) man, and the two married civilly in an LDS chapel. Afterwards, he joined the church, and at the urging of Rebecca and Jeff, the two took temple prep classes and were sealed. Lindsey’s husband was in the military which moved them to Hawaii. There, things spiraled downward fast. Lindsey hung out more and more with her gay friends, and ultimately came out to her husband (but not her parents). At Christmas, they told their families they were getting divorced.

After living for 10 years in Long Beach, Lindsey hit rock bottom and moved to Bakersfield. She’d lost her reputable job, an ocean front apartment, a new car, and all her money. She dated women and fell into drug and alcohol addiction. Weeks would go by with no word from her, and her parents worried. One night, she came home and sat down with her mother on the couch. “Mom, I have something to tell you,” Lindsey said. “I think I know what you’re going to say,” Rebecca replied. Lindsey explained how she’d tried to marry a man, thinking that might “cure her” and help her “overcome her attractions.” After her divorce, she went to an LDS counselor to see if she could change. But she realized this wasn’t something that would change. Rebecca believes that it was her daughter’s cognitive dissonance with what she’d been taught at church and facing the truth of her sexual orientation that caused her to turn to substance abuse to cope.

Her parents sent her to a drug rehab in Michigan, where she did well; but shortly after, Lindsey relapsed. Her active addiction lasted almost 4 more years. After successfully completing a sober living program, on Mother’s Day of 2013, she went home to live with her parents. This time, something was different. They are proud to say she has been clean ever since. She still attends 12-Step meetings regularly because she recognizes that she is always one decision away from losing her life. While under the same roof, the Sais had to acknowledge where they stood on certain issues at the time. Lindsey respected their enforcement of Word of Wisdom guidelines, and Rebecca and Jeff ultimately came to accept that Lindsey was gay. “We couldn’t change that, only our attitude toward her. There were many times where everyone had to agree to disagree and go back to their corners. Along the way, we decided that our relationship with her was more important than our feelings about her sexual orientation. We loved her and wanted to keep her in the family.”

There have been tense times between Lindsey and her siblings and her parents, like the time they supported Prop 8 because Rebecca and Jeff say they committed upon marriage to “always follow the prophet.” Lindsey was understandably quite upset by their decision and didn’t speak to her parents for some time. While this is still a point of contention for the family, Rebecca feels that her attempts to set a standard to be true to the Lord is a positive example for her kids. She says Lindsey has often said, “I’m glad you didn’t bend over the years, that you didn’t bail me out of jail. I needed that. I needed to be told ‘no’.” Rebecca says that they have also benefitted much from lessons Lindsey has taught them.

Lindsey leans far left politically in contrast to her parents’ more conservative nature, but Rebecca and Jeff love how she always looks out for the marginalized, eager to help those in need. Jeff was deeply touched when one day while leaving a store with Lindsey, she stopped and kneeled down to talk with a homeless woman who was visibly struggling with addiction. After giving the woman food and some money, Lindsey offered to pray with the woman, and Jeff sensed it was just what the woman needed. He credits Lindsey for expounding the family’s testimony of the Savior. “I think one of the most powerful parts of the Savior’s mortal ministry is when he showed compassion toward those who would have been the most outcast, like the lepers, publicans, widows. One of the ways in which we can become truly Christlike is to show that kind of empathy, kindness, compassion and love to those who society has marginalized, like Lindsey does.” Rebecca once told her daughter, “Lindsey, you may not be active in the church, but you are active in the gospel because of your kind heart and willingness to act as the Savior would.” While the family says they don’t have all the answers, a Facebook meme they often quote says, “Just love everybody. I’ll sort it out later. Love, God.”

The entire Sais family adores their new member, Connie, who Lindsey married in 2018. Rebecca says Connie is a wonderful woman, and while not a member of the LDS faith, Connie supports Lindsey and the family in the various ways that they observe their faith. “Together, they make a great team,” says Rebecca. ”Lindsey’s more emotion-driven and can be impulsive; Connie is steady, quiet, constant. She thinks things through before acting.” The couple lives in Raleigh, NC where Connie works full time and is supporting Lindsey, who works part time while studying for her LSAT. She plans to attend law school with a focus on civil rights and social justice next fall. She is eager to work on the other side of the law and help people in need as she once was. Rebecca and Jeff feel grateful for all they’ve experienced alongside Lindsey and for how far they’ve all come. The family has adopted one of Lindsey’s favorite phrases from AA, “I can’t; He can. I think I’ll let Him.” Rebecca says, “As difficult as this journey has been, we can honestly say we’re grateful for where it’s brought us. And now, we feel it’s a huge blessing that we can help other people who feel on the edge of society or the church, and who might question their Savior’s or mankind’s love for them.”

Jeff also feels we underestimate the spiritual depth of people who don’t fit in a religious box. “When we don’t understand the depth of their spiritual nature, we place them outside the box. I think this issue of same-sex attraction goes a lot deeper than what society in general – and certainly those in the church – may realize; and as such, I think it creates a lot of conflict within people. And that’s where the importance of love in families and unity really comes in. As we strengthen families in the church, we will help everybody to create a place for talking about these things in such a way in which we can gain greater understanding.”

Jeff believes that once this life is over and we’re on the other side, we’ll see things as they really are. “We’ll understand there’s a place in Heavenly Father’s kingdom for all. Everyone will be happy. I’m not sure how that will look, but I think Heavenly Father is capable of creating a greater amount of happiness for his children – more than we can ever imagine.”

*Lindsey would be happy to lend an ear to anyone who may wish to feel a little less alone if walking a similar journey. You can reach her at IG: @kantyoudigit @palomas.gris

THE FOGG FAMILY

Shortly after Michelle Fogg turned 20, she became active in the LDS church and

received her patriarchal blessing. In it, she was blessed she’d have children “who will be

special to the Lord” -- verbiage she found odd at the time, as she presumed all children

fit that category. She wondered what might lie in store; and indeed, many unique

experiences have come as Michelle and her husband, Steven, have expanded their

family to include five children currently between the ages of 4 and 17.

The Fogg children have a range of severe food allergies, rare medical disorders, mental

health diagnoses, and giftedness. Emalee, now 17, was born with an array of medical

problems that launched science-minded Michelle on a 10-year journey into the food

allergy world. Michelle started a non-profit and advocated for kids like hers in front of

legislatures, created trainings for school nurses, served on national boards, and

promoted education and safety for kids with life-threatening allergies on a local level. A

decade of advocacy took its toll, and Michelle ultimately felt prompted to step back and

center her care efforts in the home.

It was soon after this time that her oldest daughter, Emalee, then 15, invited her mom to dinner to tell

her, “I like girls, instead of boys.” Saying these words brought Emalee tremendous relief. While this

news rocked Michelle’s world, there was some relief that she was now in a place in which she could

pivot to a whole new category of parental love, support, and understanding. Michelle shared their

daughter’s news with Steven, and together, they agreed to make it a top priority to continue to love

and support Emalee, while pursuing further education and understanding. This time, however, Steven

begged Michelle to not make their family a poster family for LGBTQ advocacy – not because they

didn’t support their daughter, but because of the lingering PTSD from allergy-world exhaustion.

Almost three years later, crediting the crucial connection and perspective she gained from listening to

other people’s stories (mostly via Ostler’s Listen, Learn, and Love podcast), Michelle trusts it is the right

time to share the signs and preparation she received along her daughter’s special journey. Because

there were plenty.

The first happened when Emalee was ten. Michelle picked up a phone her daughter had

set down to discover the search engine contained the words “Can you be Mormon and

gay?” At eleven, Michelle received a phone call from the mother of one of Emalee’s

friends at school, who shared that her daughter had received a flower from a girl

(Emalee) who she made a point to refer to as her girlfriend (not her friend who is a girl).

Michelle and Steven had a talk with their daughter at that time and made some fear-

based comments (they would later rethink), operating off the valid concern that their

daughter might become a social pariah in their conservative Salt Lake City, UT

neighborhood. On top of all the other medical issues that were already making her

daughter’s life difficult, Michelle followed a prompting to transfer Emalee to a charter

school. This fresh start ended up being a good move socially. But they also watched as

Emalee fell into a deeper depression throughout middle school – withdrawing more at

home, dealing with major anxiety, no longer wanting to go to her church classes or at

times, even leave her bedroom. 

Michelle prayed about what to do to help her now 8th grade daughter, who she

assumed was suffering from years of medical challenges. That fall, she felt led to

explore some of Emalee’s school work in Google Docs, where she found a writing

assignment in which Emalee talked about being gay, being afraid to tell her parents,

and fearing they would disown her because of their religious beliefs. Michelle didn’t

confront Emalee at this time, but filed the experience away in a growing file she wasn’t

quite ready to deal with.

The next spring, while in the temple, Michelle was pleading with God about what to do.

In her dressing room after a session, she felt a strong, clear presence – as if someone

was standing there and speaking loudly, “Be still, and know that I am God.” Michelle

burst into tears and took comfort in the understanding that God was in charge, and that

He loved and could help Emalee more than her parents ever could. It was their job to

just be still and trust Him.

It would be another couple years before Emalee and Michelle’s revelatory dinner date.

Up until that point, Michelle said she had always been a box-checking member who

questioned how anyone could ever leave the church for any reason. After the November

2015 exclusion policy, Michelle remembers thinking, “I’m so sorry those poor families

have to deal with that. I’m so glad it’s not me.” But now, it is. She is grateful for the

humility and enlightenment on this new path which has given her the opportunity to rid

herself of layers of judgment and bias, which she didn’t realize existed inside of her.

Michelle says beyond looking upward, she has always been the type to turn to study

and science to understand our world and the people in it. After studying the history of

LGBTQ people, Michelle said, “My eyes were opened to one of the most brutal tales of

human experience and treatment. What they’ve been through – it’s heartbreaking.”

Yet, she says God has continued to guide her in a method that feels personal. One

night after pondering the debunking of the “choice theory” of sexual orientation, she

prayed that she would understand the biologic mechanisms involved. The next morning,

she came across an article and lecture by Dr. Gregory Prince about the role of

epigenetics. She was fascinated and fully acknowledged her answered prayer – which

kicked off an even deeper study. Michelle also shares that she was buoyed up by the

coming out story of Stacey Harkey (of the family’s favorite TV show, Studio C), who came

out just one month after Emalee had. “His story helped to validate many parts of

Emalee’s life as a young child, and opened me up to a whole new flood of stories. Every

single one was so similar. I just KNEW what my daughter was telling me was true. And I

just want to thank the individuals who did what I’m doing right now – sharing their

stories because they helped me so much! To listen, learn, and love. To lift and love. I

learned through our collective experiences that fear is replaced with love. Then you

have peace. The peace doesn’t come without love.”

Since her daughter has come out, Michelle is grateful for new impressions and

perspectives. Once in prayer, she asked God, “Do you really want me to tell my

daughter that she needs to be celibate and alone?” After which, she felt an emphatic

“No.” Perhaps the greatest thing that has happened since Emalee came out, says

Michelle, is that “it was like a light switch turned on and we got our daughter back. In the

weeks following, she was walking around the house whistling!? I said to Steven, ‘Do you

hear her? There’s happiness again!’ The weight lifted – in knowing you’re not going to

be rejected by the people who love you most. That it’s okay to be who you are.”

While Emalee still has struggles with her mental and physical health, she is doing great.

She recently received an excellent score on her first attempt at the ACT, tested out of

high school a year early, and is now taking college courses. Michelle says, “She is so

much happier.” 

While her mother says, “Emalee was always the most valiant, pure, sweet innocent

child -- she once had the strongest testimony,” Emalee has now found it in her best

interests to step away from the church as she is about to turn 18.

Another Fogg child came out to their parents earlier this year, and Michelle senses this

is a road that several in her family will walk or otherwise come to understand on a

personal level. The Fogg family savored the quiet peace of the pandemic, and are

currently figuring out their future relationship with the religion in which they’ve always

been affiliated. In the meantime, Michelle says she is grateful for the sacred duty she

has to share with others how special her children are to the Lord, no matter where their

paths may lead. “I’m done trying to figure it out, I’ve turned it over to Him. I don’t know

any of our destinations, but I don’t worry anymore. Emalee is in God’s hands; He’s

walking right alongside her. He’s going to take her – and all of us – wherever we need

to go.”

THE KENNEDY FAMILY

On paper, everything seemed ideal: top of his class, National Merit Scholar, Eagle Scout, Order of the Arrow member, returned missionary and recipient of a full scholarship to Utah State University. But for years, Jeffrey Kennedy’s parents had suspected something was troubling their son. “He was very closed off growing up; he didn’t want to talk about anything emotional. But as a middle child and someone who was so scholastic, he could get away with it – hiding up in his room to do homework. ‘That’s just the type of student he is,” thought his parents. But neither Pam nor Darin Kennedy was aware of the silent struggle their son was enduring, unable to acknowledge and accept a part of himself that he was battling to keep hidden.

On his mission to Vanuatu in the South Pacific, Jeffrey started having anxiety at a worrisome enough level that he spoke to his parents about it. While his mission president said he’d be fine, Pam sensed something else was going on. She encouraged Jeffrey to be tested for dengue or the West Nile virus. (Pam and Darin later discovered the mission president knew all along that Jeffrey was gay but did not disclose that information to his parents.) Had they known, so much surrounding his decision to serve a mission and his state of mind right afterwards would have made sense. Jeffrey served his two years, but was very emotional, anxious, and raw when he came home. Pam remembers Darin staying up all night long with him that first night in an attempt to comfort him. Several months later, after Jeffrey had left their Boise, ID home for school in Logan, UT, Darin was searching around the house for an SD drive. Figuring their techie son might be the most likely owner, Darin opened Jeffrey’s desk and within found a “To Mom and Dad” letter. Shortly after, Darin left his son’s room in tears and handed Pam the letter. She likewise read how Jeffrey had always tried to be the best son, how he was so sorry to disappoint his parents, but he couldn’t live up to their expectations. “We thought it was a suicide note,” Pam says, “But at the bottom, he finally said, ‘I need to tell you, I’m gay’.”

“It threw us for such a loop,” says Pam. “We didn’t see it coming. But in that moment, my husband did a complete 180.” Darin told her, “I need to be the one to talk to our son. I need to tell him I found his letter, that I love him, and I’m so sorry for everything hurtful I’ve ever said,” referencing the homophobic comments he’d made over the years about gay people and couples they saw on TV and around town. While Darin knew his son didn’t choose his orientation and couldn’t change it, he initially figured that as an RM, perhaps he’d choose to lead a celibate life. In contrast, Pam says she instantly thought, “Screw that, I want him to have a life.” While Pam wanted nothing but happiness for Jeffrey, she still cried for six months. Church was especially hard. She never saw her son’s orientation as a burden, but had a difficult time seeing it as a blessing.

A few months later Pam and Jeffrey attended a third temple session together in which the mother-son duo had been asked to be the witness couple. They both chuckled, thinking “If they only knew…” And then she realized, “The Lord does know.” During that last session together, Pam received a distinct prompting: “Your son’s going to leave the church, and it’s going to be okay.” After the temple, while sitting in the car in a Shopko parking lot, Jeffrey asked his mother, “Do you think it’d be okay if I start dating?”

With his parents’ blessing, Jeffrey began dating. While Boise is generally more liberal and accepting than other nearby towns (when Jeffrey told his younger brother he’s gay, Braedon barely looked up from his video game and said, “Okay, my friends are gay, no big deal”), Pam laments that gay children in conservative religious communities do not yet have acceptable offerings for safe dating. “Kids like my son don’t want the one-night stands, or get drunk and party, or date older men in secret type of scene. Jeffrey just wanted to date normally like everyone else did.” Jeffrey also hadn’t wanted to pursue dating guys with LDS backgrounds, figuring he wouldn’t find it helpful to have two partners in one relationship dealing with the kind of religious trauma he had experienced, but he met a great guy with a Christian background, who Pam says is “perfect for him. We couldn’t have asked for a better son-in-law.” Two years later, in May of this year, they were married in his older brother’s backyard and the entire family was there to support. When Jeffrey was engaged, he teared up talking to Pam about his love for his soon-to-be husband and said he couldn’t imagine spending eternity with anyone other than Cory. Pam reasons, “That says it right there. That’s all I needed to know.”

Pam’s kids have nicknamed her the “Gay Warrior.” She is a visible ally at the Boise-based high school where she works, wearing her rainbow gear every day to let the students know she’s a safe space. Her son Jeffrey is more subdued about his personal life. He and Cory live a simple, happy life, and enjoy cooking together, Star Wars,musical theatre (Cory knows every word to Hamilton), and trips in the camper they bought together, complete with twinkly lights, their dog, James, and two cats, Rhubarb and Whiskey. Like the rest of the Kennedy family, they are huge Disney fans, and they recently honeymooned at Disneyworld. Cory and Jeff both work and support each other as Jeffrey pursues his masters degree in Environmental Engineering. Cory will then complete his education. It means a lot to Pam that Cory took Jeffrey’s last name, and she’s excited that the two plan to adopt children down the road. “My son’s a good person. He’s done everything he could do within the church – he graduated from seminary, served a mission, worked in the temple; what more did he have to do?” Pam says, “The biggest thing I’ve learned on this journey is that God is bigger than the church portrays and our earth-bound perceptions. We say God’s love is infinite and eternal, but we also talk a lot about earthly requirements that we must follow. While these requirements are great and can be a strength for most families, they can be painful for members who don’t fit the mold. If we believe that God is in charge and understands our eternal situation, then we can put our trust in Him to sort out these complicated situations. All I know is that God loves my son even more than I do and created him exactly how he is. We have to expand our belief in what God is capable of doing and take away the fear in our teaching.” While Pam and Darin have raised all their kids in the church and know the Plan of Salvation well, Pam has never felt the fear of having family excluded from Heaven. “I have too many wonderful friends and family outside the church to believe that there isn’t a wonderful place for them.”

Pam and Darin try to visibly be a safe place for those who may need them to be. Pam says, “I wish the church would use us as a resource more often. When people are in crisis, they should send in someone who understands. My husband and I have been there, we know what these families are going through. It can really shake your faith.“ Although Pam and Darin have strong testimonies of Jesus Christ and the Atonement, there are times when church is difficult. Pam and Darin no longer feel compelled to force their youngest son, now 16, to attend seminary. They don’t want him to have to listen to any non-affirming lessons on marriage. Yet each week, Pam, Darin, and Braedon attend church to partake of the sacrament and hopefully receive just one tender mercy -- one golden message of Christlike goodness. They are never disappointed. They have seen Christlike blessings in the details of their lives, including unconditional support from family members.

During Covid, they have spent more time as a family and have had plenty of opportunity to bond. Through the experiences of these past few years, Pam and Darin have grown closer together and Pam has finally come to see that having a gay child truly is a blessing. “When what you thought you knew is stripped away, you are left with nothing but Christ and the Atonement to fall back on.” While their relationship with the church is strained, Pam and Darin feel that they are in a good place and that God will work it all out. They feel very blessed to have had the opportunity to raise one of God’s gay children.

THE JACKIE SMITH FAMILY

There are some advantages to not growing up in the LDS faith. For Jackie Smith, joining the church as a college student from a socially liberal family background has always allowed her to approach church culture from a different angle -- one that as an author and mother of seven, she now uses to help herself and others navigate through certain social ideologies, especially when it comes to facing essential parenting pivots and difficult pulpit pronouncements. As an LDS-outsider (who’s now been baptized in for the past few decades), Jackie observes that, “There appears to be a pride that develops sometimes in the church based on a checklist of our children’s behavior – mission, BYU, marriage, etc. These are things that I don’t think matter as much as we think they do to God. And when we get our self-esteem by our kids checking these boxes, it can become difficult. Because if a kid makes a different choice, it feels like a personal threat.”

Through her books, Jackie hopes to help people step back and see a different approach – whether they have a gay kid or not. Her children’s series, Open Minds, Open Hearts, (available on Amazon) aims to help parents raise children with the emotional strength to confidently choose to be Christlike. It was always important to Jackie that her own children not judge others who, say, drink coffee or smoke, but rather that they recognize that all humans hold and offer light and truth. Jackie’s memoir, Pass It On: A Perspective Offering Insight to All Faiths About Raising a Gay Child in a Religious Home, (also on Amazon), chronicles her journey when her youngest child Spencer, who now goes by Dudley, came out during his junior year of high school. From a young age, Jackie suspected something was different about Dudley. While he says he didn’t know he was gay until the 7th grade, Jackie said she had impressions much earlier that caused her to watch her words and create a safe space for him. “I was always a little overprotective, I think.”

And then, she remembers the doozy of Prop 8. At the time, her husband Kent was a bishop, and she recalls both of them supporting the admonition to “follow the prophet” with the political issue, but behind their bedroom door, Kent comforted her as she mourned, saying, “I can’t do this.” Jackie remembers standing on a street corner behind a sea of Yes on 8 signs, which she refused to pick up herself, but she still feels sick that a young man from her daughter’s high school, carrying a “No H8” sign, approached and saw her standing there. It felt like a punch to the gut. She went into the bushes and cried.

For Jackie, the hardest part about Dudley coming out, even all these years later, is that he initially believed his parents would never speak to him again once he did. This heart-breaking confession has since propelled Jackie to write, to speak up, to speak out and let others know how we can preventatively do better. “I’m trying to scrape off all that Mormon guck – all the judgment – and remind people how our job is to just teach our kids about Christ.” The Smith family is large, diverse, and very close. All of Kent and Jackie’s children are now married, and the line-up pictured above includes Jessica and Steve Hennings, Andrew and Karisa Smith, Matt and Lizzie Smith, Makenna and Mike Myler, CJ and Spencer Taylor, Sam and Megan Smith, Dudley and Trevor Brown, and grandchildren Moses, Ray, Ocean, Ezra, Smith, Stevie, Etta, Lou, Hal, and a baby girl on the way.

At Christmas time during his junior year of high school, after Dudley first revealed he’s gay to Jackie, he gave each of his siblings a similarly wrapped package. As they each opened up a rainbow-colored pin and put it on, Jackie smiles at the memory of the instant sibling huddle of loving support.

After her son came out, Jackie says her priority was that Dudley still felt like a beloved child of God, even though he felt a need to pull away completely from church teachings. As he was the only child still at home, Jackie and Kent adapted. At the time, they thought it was best for Dudley to still attend church and finish seminary, but Family Home Evening turned into a weekly 30-second inspirational quote (that sometimes led to hours of discussion). They tried to work around his feelings, rather than plow through them.

After high school, Jackie says Dudley experienced some wild days and nights as a student at Santa Monica College studying film. She believes this was due to Dudley’s lack of self-love due to the experiences he faced that sprouted from church teachings that need to change. One day, he came home to his parents and bawled on their bed at the spiral his life had taken. Together, they discussed self care and a path that would help Dudley overcome the damage to his emotional health. This bumpy journey would lead to a really good life and partner who would support and love him. Dudley decided to transfer to UVU, where he could study geology and be closer to his siblings, with whom he remained close. He met Trevor, a BYU graduate, and together, they lifted and loved one another on their mutually healing journey. The family laughs that it was Dudley and Trevor’s relationship that advanced the quickest of all their long-haul dater siblings, and the two were married in a beautiful ceremony just two years later.

The entire Smith family remains close, and true to form, last week, they met in clusters (in California and Utah) after Elder Holland’s infamous delivery at that BYU podium so that they could process together. Jackie shared that she spoke to a faculty member at BYU who sat through the talk and described it as a bit of whiplash after listening to BYU President Worthen’s prior talk the same day on the importance of inclusion. Jackie feels that every talk opens up room for more thought and discussion. To her, this wasn’t a step backwards, but a catalyst for changing mindsets, building progress, and ultimately leading to light and truth. Jackie believes we should be proud of the students and faculty who are striving to be like Christ. “The church has created a university of earth-shattering people who seek God’s will, love God’s children, and care about their future. Let’s be grateful for their voices and their vision. I, too, believe BYU should continue to be unique, but there is a difference between uniqueness and isolation. If you isolate, you won’t be unique because no one will notice you. When you’re unique, you stand out. When you isolate, you are forgotten.”

Regarding the reception of such an address in the LGBTQ+ community, Jackie offers a broader perspective on grace: “We cannot raise our kids to worship our prophets and apostles. There is a fine line between worshipping and revering – they are imperfect men; they know it, and they want us to know it. They ask God for revelation, too. I can completely disagree with someone but know they’re still a child of God trying to do their best. I love Elder Holland – he has inspired me throughout my life. I’m not thinking he’s a horrible person because of one mistake. For all I know, he may have cried himself to sleep that night. Or he may have thought all that needed to be said. I don’t know. Let us not forget he is a child of God, too. He’s reading his scriptures, praying, uncovering light and truth, too, just like me. He’s on a journey; I’m on a journey – and our journeys need to collide so we can learn from each other. And when we both face God, He will let each of us know what he wanted each of us to learn from this experience.”

Jackie believes the general authorities when they say they’ve been on their knees praying about people like her son and her family. As for what she’d say directly, if given audience: “I’d invite them to come meet our kids, come meet my son, and admit to themselves these are children of God and they have a place in God’s kingdom and heart. We know that. We are looking forward to seeing how they fit into God’s plan. Everyone needs to continue to seek the answers; please, please don’t close any doors.” #liftandloveathome