“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”
Isaiah 41:10
Introduction
My heart aches as I sit here in front of a computer to type the words that my son may never see. It has been days since he hung up on me. Since then, I’ve started typing, only to walk away, unable to face the pain of putting this experience into words. How do you describe the moment when your deepest religious convictions collide with your deepest love as a parent? How do you explain choosing between your faith and attending your son’s wedding?
How do you choose a title for such a post? I thought about “Standing By My Faith, Losing My Son: A Father’s Heartbreak”, “The Hardest No: When Religious Conviction Costs You Your Child”, “Missing My Son’s Wedding: The Price of Faith and the Pain of Loss”, or “Broken Bridges: When Religious Beliefs and Family Bonds Clash”. I landed on “The Wedding I Couldn’t Attend: When Faith and Family Collide” because I feel it most directly addresses the primary conflict between Brian and me.
But silence serves no one. As I’ve wrestled with this heartbreak, I’ve realized that other parents, family, and friends, may be facing the same impossible choice, feeling just as alone as I do. Perhaps by sharing my story – raw and unvarnished as it is – I can help others know they aren’t walking this difficult path alone. Maybe my words can offer some comfort to another father or mother sitting awake at night, tears falling, Bible open, praying for guidance.
This isn’t a story of villains or heroes. It’s not a theological debate or a political statement. It’s simply the story of a father’s heart breaking, a faith being tested, and the ongoing journey of trying to honor both God and the son I love so deeply. If you’re facing a similar challenge, I hope you’ll find some solace in knowing you’re not alone. If you’re not, I ask for your prayers and understanding as I share another painful chapter in my life.
The Lead-Up
The path to this heartbreaking moment began on Christmas Eve 2017, when my son first came out to Melinda and me. I don’t think he expected a loving reaction from us. He was prepared to say goodbye to us forever that night. It was hard for me to process. I researched and thought about it for weeks before writing Brian a long letter. I will not go into all those details here since you can read it for yourself.
Since then, our relationship has been cordial but distant, especially after losing his mother – my beautiful wife Melinda – to cancer in 2020. At her funeral, he told my dad, before leaving for Houston, that there was nothing left for him in Central Texas. This hurt my dad and me as we were both still in Central Texas. The years between have been filled with polite conversations, careful words from me, and both of us trying to navigate this new reality while holding to our own beliefs. I really thought things were getting better between us. The last two Christmases seemed as if things were getting back to normal.
The funny thing is, when Brian pulled me aside at my daughter’s baby shower on February 1st, I was completely unprepared for what came next. He asked me about coming to his wedding. I know I looked shocked. I thought he was already married. He and his partner wear rings, they live together and had spoken of trips to Mexico – which Brian had once described as his dream wedding destination. I didn’t give him an answer at the shower; partly because I was in shock, and partly because I didn’t feel it was the appropriate place for such a conversation.
Looking back, the timing and setting seemed strange. We were there to celebrate a new life. I did not feel it was a time to discuss his wedding plans. When I asked when, he said they didn’t have a date set, but sometime around the end of March. I looked at him, very annoyed, and asked, “The same time your sister’s baby is due?” He just shrugged his shoulders. The conversation had become brief and direct: “Would I attend his same-sex wedding?
Looking back, I wonder if attending his sister’s baby shower was partly motivated by needing to ask this question in person. The thought brings its own kind of pain – that our relationship had become so formal that he needed a family gathering to have this conversation with me.
The Decision
Wrestling with Faith and Love
In the time following Brian’s invitation to his same-sex wedding at Megan’s baby shower, I have found myself in perhaps the deepest spiritual struggle of my life. Each day, I open my Bible reading, more and more, hesitant to admit that God will show me where I am wrong. I pray for guidance, wisdom, and yes for God to show me that what I know in my heart to be true is wrong. The weight of telling Brian that I could not attend any same-sex marriage ceremony including his crushes my heart.
As I searched the scriptures one morning, seeking answers, an unexpected insight came from the story of Job – or more precisely, from comedian Tim Hawkins’ joke about Job’s wife. Hawkins joked about how difficult Job’s wife must have been for Satan to leave her while taking everything else. But this humorous observation led me to a profound realization: God allowed Satan to take everything from Job – his children, his wealth, his health – yet preserved his marriage. Why?
I believe that answer can be found in Matthew 19:4-6 when Jesus said: ‘Have you not read that he who created them from the beginning made them male and female, and said, “Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh”?’ He was describing more than just a male and female marriage – He was describing a divine covenant. If the two truly become one flesh as Jesus says, then Satan couldn’t take Job’s wife because that would mean destroying part of Job himself. Their marriage covenant, like all biblical marriages, reflected the unbreakable covenant between Christ and His church.
The Heart of the Matter
Pastor John Piper’s words on this subject deeply resonated with my own convictions. Like him, I’ve had to confront the heartbreaking reality that what our culture calls a wedding, I cannot in good conscience recognize as such. For me, as for all who hold to biblical truth, a wedding is the sacred union between a man and a woman. This isn’t about rejecting my son – it’s about being faithful to what I believe God has clearly defined marriage to be. In Matthew 19:6, Jesus himself said, ‘What therefore God has joined together, let not man separate.’ The profound truth here is that marriage isn’t merely a human institution – it’s something God himself joins together.
This understanding leads to an unavoidable conclusion: attending such a ceremony would mean participating in something that, according to Scripture, cannot exist in God’s eyes. It would be, as Piper notes, ‘confirming a life and lifestyle that contradicts God’s Word.’ This isn’t about judgment – it’s about truth and love in their purest forms. I love Brian too deeply to pretend that what God has forbidden is acceptable. Real love sometimes requires standing firm in God’s truth, even when that stance breaks our hearts.
Love’s Hardest Expression
What makes this particularly agonizing is that my decision comes from a place of love – both for God and for Brian. As I wrote to him years ago in my letter, my love for him is complete and unchanging. Nothing will ever change that I’m his father and he’s my son. But love sometimes requires us to stand firm in hard truths, even when doing so breaks our hearts. The song ‘Hard Love‘ by NeedtoBreathe captures this struggle perfectly – that real love often demands difficult choices, and that genuine growth and change rarely come without pain.
The apostle Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 13:6 that love ‘does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth.’ This verse has become a cornerstone of my understanding of what real love looks like in this situation. True love cannot celebrate what it believes to be harmful to the one loved. It’s why I cannot, in good conscience, attend a ceremony that contradicts God’s design for marriage – even when that ceremony is for my son. Yet it’s also why I offered to attend the reception and other gatherings. My absence from the ceremony isn’t about rejection; it’s about standing firm in truth while finding ways to show Brian I still love him deeply.
The Cost of Conviction
Making this decision has cost me dearly. Each day, I agonize over the possibility that I may never see or hear from Brian again. Sitting in my office, surrounded by memories both cherished and challenging, I find myself caught between faith and heartache. The photos that line my walls – Brian dressed as an Indian, proudly holding the catfish he caught at the lake, dressed in his FFA jacket – seem to fade like mist, taking with them the simple joy of those moments we all shared. The pain of knowing I won’t be there on what society considers one of the most important days of his life is almost unbearable, but even more crushing is his rejection of me because of my faithfulness to God’s Word.
In these moments of deepest doubt and pain, I turn to Jesus’s words in Matthew 10:37: “Whoever loves father or son more than me is not worthy of me.” These aren’t easy words to hear, but they bring clarity to my struggle. This isn’t about choosing between loving God and loving Brian – it’s about loving both in the right way, with God’s truth as the foundation. Just as a parent’s love sometimes requires saying ‘no’ to protect their child, my love for Brian requires standing firm in God’s truth, even at great personal cost.
Standing in Truth and Love
During Melinda’s battle with brain cancer, I found myself returning again and again to Job and Lamentations. Those books helped me process a different kind of pain, showing me how to lament while holding onto faith. This current anguish is different, but like Job, I find myself tested in ways I never imagined. And like Job, I must maintain my integrity before God while continuing to love those who may not understand my position. My door remains open to Brian – it will always be open – and my love for him is unchangeable. But I cannot celebrate what I believe God has clearly defined as sin, no matter how much it hurts to take this stand or how tempting it is to compromise just so everyone can be happy and get along.
In the end, this decision isn’t about rejection – it’s about remaining faithful to what I believe God has revealed in His Word. As painful as it is, I must echo Joshua’s declaration: ‘As for me and my house, we will serve the LORD’ (Joshua 24:15). Sometimes serving the Lord means walking a lonely path, but it’s a path I must walk with integrity.
The Aftermath
The days following my decision have been filled with unexpected waves of loss, each one deeper than the last. After our initial conversation at the baby shower, I called Brian the next day to explain my position more clearly – that while I couldn’t attend the ceremony itself, I would gladly attend the reception. His response was firm: it was all or nothing. There would be no middle ground.
What followed was a text message to our family group chat that shattered whatever fragile peace we had maintained. Brian’s words laid bare years of hurt, pain, and feelings of conditional acceptance. In response, family members began leaving the group one by one – first Brian, then his aunt Julie but not before leaving some Bible quotes out of context, and finally his grandmother Linda without a word. The silence of their departure spoke volumes, and I watched helplessly as the fabric of our extended family began to unravel.
In my final attempt to bridge the growing chasm between us, I called Brian. To my surprise, he answered, and for 54 minutes, we engaged in what would become one of the most painful conversations of my life. The discussion revealed wounds I hadn’t fully understood and conflicts I hadn’t seen coming. Brian’s anger erupted in a way I’d never witnessed before, punctuated by f-bombs that reflected the depth of his pain and anger. Some of his hurt was justified – like my oversight in excluding him from the family Christmas letter this year – while other moments left me stunned, particularly his characterization of our prayer circle at Megan’s baby shower as “silly and dumb.”
During our increasingly heated conversation, we found ourselves embroiled in a debate about judgment – a topic that cuts to the heart of many family conflicts over faith. When I asked Brian if he was a Christian and he confirmed he was, I explained that as a brother in Christ, the most loving thing I could do was to speak truth about what Scripture says regarding same-sex relationships. He referenced Matthew 7:1, “Do not judge, or you too will be judged” – a verse often quoted in isolation.
This moment exemplified a deeper misunderstanding about Biblical judgment that has become prevalent in our culture. While many believers and non-believers alike cite this verse as a blanket prohibition against any form of judgment, the full context reveals a more nuanced truth. The subsequent verses (Matthew 7:2-5) show that Jesus wasn’t forbidding judgment altogether, but rather warning against hypocritical judgment – judging others while refusing to acknowledge our own sin. Furthermore, Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 5:9-13 make it clear that Christian brothers and sisters have a responsibility to hold one another accountable within the church, while leaving judgment of those outside the church to God.
When I tried to explain this distinction, Brian countered by suggesting I was living in sin myself, citing a rumor that I had begun dating April before his mother’s passing – an accusation that struck me speechless with its painful untruth. After clarifying this misconception, I returned to the heart of the matter: “If you tell me you don’t believe, I’ll drop it. But if you’re my brother in Christ, the Bible calls me to speak truth in love.”
The conversation reached its breaking point when Brian suggested that if he denounced his faith in Jesus, perhaps then I would attend his wedding. Those words cut deeper than any others, revealing the vast distance between our understandings of faith, love, and truth. “No,” I told him, “even if you didn’t believe, I still couldn’t attend a same-sex wedding. But for you to even suggest that breaks my heart. I don’t want to see you eternally separated from God.”
Our attempts at finding common ground dissolved into an impasse. Every effort I made to compromise was met with the same response: full acceptance of his views or nothing at all. The call ended abruptly with Brian hanging up, leaving me with the deafening silence that has stretched into days, weeks, and I fear may turn into months and years.
What haunts me most isn’t just the loss of my son’s presence in my life, but the realization that our fundamental disagreement has rippled outward, affecting relationships throughout our extended family. The gulf between us seems to widen with each passing day, and the path to reconciliation – if one exists – remains unclear.
Yet even in this painful aftermath, my love for Brian remains unchanged. My door remains open, my heart remains his, and my prayers for him continue. While I cannot compromise my convictions about marriage and Scripture, I also cannot – and will not – stop being his father. This tension between unchangeable love and uncompromising faith has become my daily cross to bear.
Faith in the Storm
In the midst of this storm, my faith remains both an anchor and a compass, though I’d be less than honest if I didn’t admit that some days it feels like more of a wrestling match. Since Brian’s message and our final phone call, I’ve found myself drawn more deeply into God’s Word, not just reading but truly seeking understanding. Every day, as I open my Bible, I’m more aware than ever of my own sins and shortcomings. This trial has stripped away any pretense of self-righteousness, leaving me raw but perhaps more genuine in my faith than ever before.
The story of the prodigal son (Luke 15:11-32) has taken on new meaning for me. I find myself identifying not just with the waiting father, but understanding more deeply the complexity of love that keeps the porch light on while respecting the son’s choice to stay away. Some nights, I stand in the shower with the lights off, looking into the darkness, and imagine the prodigal father looking out scanning the horizon for any sign of his son’s return. The story reminds me that hope isn’t passive – it’s an active choice we make each day.
I miss the strong fellowship I once had with my brothers at Lakeview Baptist Church in Belton. There’s a unique comfort in being surrounded by believers who understand your struggles without requiring lengthy explanations. As I work to establish new connections at Eagles View Church in Fort Worth, I’m reminded that the body of Christ often provides strength precisely when our biological family ties are strained.
Recently, through what I can only attribute to the Holy Spirit’s guidance, I gained a new perspective on Job’s story as mentioned earlier. Beyond his incredible perseverance through suffering, I saw something profound in how God preserved Job’s marriage when everything else was stripped away. This insight has deepened my understanding of God’s design for marriage that two become one and strengthened my conviction, even as it highlights the cost of standing firm in that truth.
The song “Hard Love” by NeedtoBreathe has continued to be something of a personal anthem in my life since it was released. Its lyrics about love that doesn’t take the easy path resonate deeply with my experience. Following Christ often means embracing this “hard love” – love that remains consistent even when it would be easier to just follow the world, love that holds to truth even when compromise seems kinder. God’s love, after all, is unchanging and unbending, even when we wish it would conform to our desires rather than transform us to His will.
In my darker moments, when doubt creeps in and the weight of loss feels overwhelming, I return to what has become my life verse – Isaiah 55:8: ‘”For My thoughts are not your thoughts, Nor are your ways My ways,” declares Yahweh.’ These words have taken on deeper meaning through this time. They remind me that even when circumstances seem hopeless and the path forward unclear, God’s wisdom and plan extend far beyond my limited understanding. This truth doesn’t magically erase the pain or guarantee a happy ending to our story. Instead, it anchors me in the assurance that God is present and active in all my struggles, even when – perhaps especially when – His purposes seem mysterious to me. My faith can be real and strong even when my heart is breaking, because it rests not on my understanding but on His sovereign wisdom and perfect plan.
Some might expect that such strong faith would somehow numb the pain or make the loss more bearable. It doesn’t. If anything, faith makes me feel it more deeply because it keeps me honest about both the love and the loss. But faith does provide context for the pain – it reminds me that this current storm isn’t the end of the story, that God’s purposes are bigger than my understanding, and that His love for Brian is even greater than my own.
Hope for the Future
As I look toward the future, my heart remains caught between hope and heartache. Each day, I pray that Brian will come to know the Jesus I know – not the judgmental caricature that too often gets presented to the world, but the Savior whose truth and love have transformed my life. I pray that the Bible will come alive for him as it has for me. But even if our theological differences remain, my deepest prayer is that he’ll understand the depth and constancy of my love for him, even when that love looks different than he wishes it would.
The immediate future brings its own complications. As I write this, we await the birth of my grandson Malachi, and my heart aches knowing this family rift casts a shadow over what should be a purely joyous time. I worry about my daughter Megan, caught between celebrating her new motherhood and grieving this family discord. These upcoming celebrations and milestones feel like emotional minefields – how do we navigate family gatherings? How do we preserve what remains of our family bonds while acknowledging this fundamental breach?
I’ve resolved to keep reaching out, even if my messages are met with silence. Though I suspect Brian has already blocked my number, I’ll continue to send both text messages and letters to his physical address. Each unopened envelope returned, each unanswered message, may feel like another small dagger to my heart, but I’ll keep trying. If he moves without sharing his new address – a possibility that brings its own kind of pain – I’ll still look for ways to let him know my door remains open.
My hope remains anchored in Christ. I believe that through Jesus, reconciliation is possible – not just spiritually, but within our family as well. This hope isn’t based on either of us compromising our beliefs, but on the possibility that we can learn to love each other through our differences, just as Christ loves us through our imperfections.
If Brian ever reads this, I want him to know this truth: I LOVE YOU, SON!!! Not with the conditional acceptance you believe you’ve received, but with the deep, abiding love of a father that no disagreement can sever. I understand that my love may not look the way you want it to, but it remains constant and true. We can disagree – even on fundamental issues – and still love each other. Acceptance of every choice is not the same as love; sometimes love means standing firm in what we believe while keeping our hearts open to each other.
The future may be uncertain, but my love for Brian isn’t. Whether we’re able to rebuild our relationship tomorrow or years from now, whether we find a way to navigate our differences or continue to struggle with them, my love for him remains unchanged. Like the father of the prodigal son, I’ll keep watching and praying for the day when we can embrace again – not because either of us has changed our convictions, but because we’ve found a way to love each other through them.
Message to Others
As I share some of my journey, I’m aware that many others are walking similar paths, worse paths, or feeling equally lost and alone. While every situation is unique, I hope my experience can offer some guidance – or at least companionship – to others facing this challenging intersection of faith and family.
To parents, who Follow Christ, and who’ve just learned their child is gay, I want to be honest: this news is hard to hear, and the path ahead won’t be easy. But if you believe in Jesus, your first response should be to show them His love. This doesn’t mean compromising Biblical truth to make them happy – quite the opposite. It means loving them consistently while standing firm in your faith. I recently learned that my grandmother, Nina Newman, used to say something that’s become increasingly meaningful to me: “Y’all better have y’alls stuff straight. I ain’t going to hell for any of you.” While her words might sound harsh to modern ears, they carry a profound truth: we must answer to God alone for our choices and convictions.
One thing I wish someone had told me earlier was to be prepared for difficult moments to arise unexpectedly. These situations can blindside you at any event – a family gathering, a holiday celebration, or even a baby shower. Having thought through your positions and responses in advance, while remaining grounded in both truth and love, can help navigate these challenging moments with grace.
To those struggling with whether to attend a same-sex wedding, I encourage you to remain faithful to your Biblical convictions while seeking ways to maintain a relationship. Consider whether attending the reception might be a possible compromise, though I recognize this won’t work for everyone. Remember that every situation is unique, and what matters most is staying true to your faith while keeping the door open for future reconciliation.
For those feeling alone in this struggle, Scripture offers abundant hope. First Timothy 1:1 reminds us that our hope is in Christ Jesus. Colossians 1:27 tells us that Christ in us is our hope of glory. Hebrews 6:19-20 describes this hope as an anchor for our souls, firm and secure. And Romans 15:13 prays that the God of hope will fill us with joy and peace as we trust in Him.
To churches and Christian communities, we must remember that while society’s views may shift, God’s truth remains constant. We shouldn’t single out or elevate any particular sin, nor should we diminish Biblical truth just because cultural attitudes have changed. Our call is to love people while standing firm in God’s Word – not an easy balance, but a necessary one.
Looking back, I realize I may have been too distant at times, too quick to retreat into silence rather than engage in difficult conversations. Yet even our mistakes can serve as stepping stones to greater understanding and deeper faith. The key is to keep our eyes fixed on Jesus while keeping our hearts open to those we love.
This journey has taught me that love doesn’t always look the way we expect it to. Sometimes it means standing firm in uncomfortable truth. Sometimes it means enduring misunderstanding and rejection. Always, it means remaining faithful to God while keeping the door open for reconciliation.
Remember, you’re not alone in this struggle. Others have walked this path before you, many walk it now, and others will in the future. While the world may pressure us to choose between our faith and our relationships, we must keep striving to honor both God’s truth and our love for our children. It’s not an easy path, but it’s one worth walking with courage, conviction, and unwavering hope in Christ.
Closing
As I come to the end of this post, I return to where we began, with God’s promise in Isaiah 41:10: “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” These words take on new meaning in light of all I’ve shared, reminding me that even in our deepest struggles, God remains faithful. And as I’ve learned through this experience, His thoughts and ways are indeed higher than our own (Isaiah 55:8).
This story – my story, Brian’s story, our family’s story – is still being written. While I don’t know how future chapters will unfold, I remain anchored in hope: hope for healing, hope for reconciliation, and most importantly, hope in Christ’s redemptive power and the hope that I will be able to write a future story of redemption.
If you’re walking a similar path, know that you’re not alone. Whether you’re a parent grappling with these issues, a family member caught in the crossfire, or someone struggling to balance faith and family, I invite you to reach out and share your story. And if you don’t know Jesus – if you’re searching for answers or wondering about this faith that could lead a father to make such a difficult choice – I would love to talk with you about Jesus.
Let me close with this prayer:
Heavenly Father,
I come before You acknowledging the deep divisions that the issue of same-sex relationships has created in families and churches across our world. Lord, You know every heart involved – every parent, every child, every family member caught in these struggles. You see the pain on all sides.
I pray first for my son Brian. Lord, draw him close to You. Help him to know both Your truth and Your love in their fullness. I ask for reconciliation – not just between Brian and me, but with all our family members who have been affected by this situation.
Father, I pray for other families facing similar challenges. Give wisdom to parents, grace to children, and understanding to all involved. Help us to stand firm in Your truth while never failing to show Your love.
Jesus, I ask You to continue to work on my own heart. Show me my sins, reveal my blind spots, and guide me in better ways to serve You. Help me to be a witness for Your truth and Your love, even in these difficult circumstances.
Most of all, Father, I pray that all who read these words would come to know You as the loving Father who sent His Son to die for all of us. Help each one of us to acknowledge our sins, turn from those sins, and embrace the new life You offer each of us through your Son’s sacrifice on the Cross.
In Jesus’ name,
Amen.
If you’d like to share your own story or reach out for support, please feel free to leave a comment below or contact me through this blog.
