We are all children of God
Not “loved, but…”. Not “welcome, if…”. Simply, wholly loved. However you arrived here today — weary, hopeful, or unsure — there is room for you at this table.
“Love your neighbor as yourself.”— Jesus, in Matthew 22:39
If you are lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, questioning, or anywhere along the beautiful spectrum of who people are — please hear this gently: there is nothing about you that needs to be fixed. You were not a mistake to be corrected. You are a person to be cherished.
The love of God has no fine print. It does not arrive with conditions, or wait for you to become someone else first. You are already known, already held, already home. The same tenderness that shaped the dawn and named the stars knit you together on purpose — and called that good.
You are not welcome despite who you are. You are welcome, fully, because of who you are.
Again and again in the gospels, Jesus led with compassion instead of condemnation. Here are four small, true moments — not a lecture, just a reminder of the heart behind the whole story.
“I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.”
When the respectable folks grumbled that Jesus was eating and laughing with tax collectors and the pushed-aside, he did not move to another table. He stayed. The people others called unworthy were exactly the ones he called friends.
“Do not judge, so that you may not be judged.”
Jesus asked us to lay down the habit of deciding who is in and who is out. The measuring stick was never ours to hold. Where others reached for a verdict, he reached for people.
“Let anyone among you who is without sin cast the first stone.”
A woman was dragged out to be condemned, and Jesus quietly turned the moment on its head. One by one, the stones fell to the ground. To her — and to you — he said the tenderest words: I do not condemn you.
“Come to me, all you who are weary, and I will give you rest.”
There is no entrance exam for this invitation. No worthiness to prove first. If you are tired from carrying rejection, from bracing yourself, from being told you are too much or not enough — this rest was made for you.
Short, gentle reflections to sit with — on belonging, on what Jesus taught, on healing, and on loving one another well.
Psalm 139 describes a God who knows us completely and made us with care. A gentle reflection on being fearfully and wonderfully made, just as you are.
Read · 5 min read What Jesus TaughtAsked to name the most important commandment, Jesus answered with love. A gentle look at Matthew 22:36–40 and the room it makes for you.
Read · 5 min read Healing After HurtIf you were hurt in a place that was supposed to be safe, your pain is real. That was not the voice of the gospel, and God has not let go of you.
Read · 5 min read For Families & AlliesYour child just trusted you with something deeply true. Here is how to listen, reassure them of your love, and care for your own heart in the days that follow.
Read · 5 min readMaybe you were told you were an abomination. Maybe a church that once felt like home grew cold, or a family that promised love added a condition to it. If words like those were spoken over you in God’s name, we are so sorry. That was a wound — and it was not the voice of the gospel.
Jesus reserved his hardest words not for the people on the margins, but for those who used religion to shut the door on them. Rejection dressed in scripture is still rejection. It is not the heart of God, and it never was.
You did not lose God in all of that. And God did not lose you.
If your faith feels bruised, you don’t have to have it all figured out to be loved right now. Take a breath. You are allowed to come back slowly, gently, on your own time. The door was never really closed.
Whatever you’re carrying today, you don’t have to carry it by yourself. There are people who would be so glad to walk with you — and there are communities of faith where you are wanted, exactly as you are.
Free, confidential support for LGBTQ+ young people — available any hour of the day or night, especially in a moment of crisis. Kind, trained people are ready to listen.
thetrevorproject.org →Call 1‑866‑488‑7386 · or text START to 678‑678They really do exist — congregations that will celebrate you, not just tolerate you. If you long for a spiritual home, look for a church that names itself “open and affirming” or “welcoming.” You are allowed to be picky about where your heart is safe.
If you are ever in immediate danger or thinking of harming yourself, please reach out right now — in the U.S. you can call or text 988 at any time. You matter, and the world is better with you in it.
A closing blessing
May you feel, all the way down, that you are cherished. May the shame that was never yours to carry fall gently from your shoulders. May you know that you belong — to this world, to this love, to the great and tender heart that made you on purpose.
Go gently. You are seen. You are welcome. You are home.
Whenever you need to hear it again — you are loved, exactly as you are.