Faith and Identity

Today, I’d like to talk about faith and identity.

(I know. Deep breath. But stay with me.)

And before I start, I need to state that my relationship with faith has changed considerably since my Catholic school days, but I still understand how deeply it shapes many families’ lives.

And I’m here to tell you: Faith and identity don’t have to be enemies.

For many families, faith is where values originate:

love, service, kindness, and community.

All good things.

I also know faith isn’t something you can just “toss aside.”

Yet, sometimes parents find themselves standing in a painful place:

Loving their faith … and loving their LGBTQ child … and not knowing how to hold both at the same time.

That’s not failure, that’s tension.

And that tension has a name: moral anxiety.

Moral anxiety is what happens when your values clash; when love for your child feels like it’s fighting with the beliefs you were taught.

And your nervous system does not enjoy this experience.

It sounds like:

“What if I support my kid and get this wrong?”

“What if loving them feels like I’m failing spiritually?”

“What if there’s no way to choose both?”

“What is my pastor or the congregation going to think?

(Yes, the social layer makes it heavier.)

Moral anxiety doesn’t mean you love your child less.

It means you’re trying to love with integrity while continuing to grow.

And that growth can sometimes feel a little sour.

Maybe even unsavory.

So let’s talk about what really matters here:

Love for your child does not require abandoning faith.

It requires letting love lead it.

Not fear. Not shame.

Not appearances.

And to do that, we have to understand something important: Identity is not rebellion.

Queer kids aren’t rebelling when they come out or ask questions.

They’re not trying to shock you.

For LGBTQ youth, identity is simply truth-telling.

It’s saying:

“This is who I am.”

“This is how I move through the world.”

“This is who I love.”

There is no agenda or attack.

Just honesty.

And the most important spiritual work a parent can do isn’t solving theology.

It’s protecting the parent-child relationship.

That relationship IS THE MINISTRY.

Queer kids don’t need final answers and certainly don’t need a dissertation.

They need to know:

“I’m safe with you.”

“I won’t lose you.”

“You won’t choose belief over me.”

Even when it’s complicated.

In this space, we practice holding faith like a bridge, not a barrier.

We’re teaching that:

Love isn’t something to earn.

Belonging isn’t conditional.

And home should never feel like the place where you have to hide.

Especially not from the people who love you most.

Because when parents lead with connection (like a bridge), something powerful happens:

Faith becomes a tool of love, not a test of it.

And LGBTQ kids learn an essential truth:

They don’t have to leave their family to be whole.

They don’t have to abandon spirituality to be loved.

They don’t have to shrink themselves to belong.

They get to exist fully.

That’s all for now.

And don’t forget to take good care of yourself today.