Walking Alongside Parents of LGBTQ+ Identifying Children: A Call to the Church

The very first blog post I wrote for Harvest USA was titled Loving Parents of LGBTQ+ Identified Kids. Three years later, I find it necessary to revisit and expand on that theme because this is an area where the church must respond with greater wisdom, compassion, and care.

In Harvest USA’s parents and family ministry, we continue to hear the same painful refrain from parents whose children identify as LGBTQ+: “I don’t know who I can tell.” They feel alone and isolated, carrying what can feel like the most devastating news of their lives. Many are sinking under the weight of grief, fear, and confusion, yet they hesitate to turn to the very place where they should find refuge—the church.

Why? Because they do not know if they will be met with compassion and understanding or with judgment, awkwardness, and rebuke.

Many parents of LGBTQ+ identifying children tell us they hear little more than passing references to sexuality and gender confusion from the pulpit or in Sunday School classes. As a result, they often suffer in silence, assuming they’re alone or that only “dysfunctional families” face such struggles. To be sure, there are many churches faithfully walking with hurting families. But when a ministry like ours hears the same story repeatedly, it becomes clear that this is an area where the church must grow.

Bearing One Another’s Burdens

Recently, my colleague Karen Dillenbeck shared that during a training session with those involved in prison ministry, she was asked for resources on how the Christian community should respond to and care for parents of LGBTQ+ identifying children. That question alone tells us something important: There is a need.

Although this article focuses specifically on parents of LGBTQ+-identified children, the principles that follow are not limited to this particular kind of suffering. Every believer will, at some point, need the compassionate presence of the body of Christ. We will all walk through seasons of grief, disappointment, confusion, and heartache, and we will all need brothers and sisters who know how to come alongside us. The situation addressed here provides a particular and often deeply painful example of a much broader calling: How do we love and care for fellow believers who are suffering?

Scripture calls us to “bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ” (Gal. 6:2). One of the ways we fulfill that calling is by walking alongside parents and family members carrying the heavy burden of a prodigal child. They do not need to travel this road alone. As the body of Christ, we have the privilege of entering into their suffering with compassion, hope, and faithful love. Here are a few ways we can do that.

Parents of LGBTQ+ Identifying Children Need Humble Companionship

First, have a Philippians 2:3 mindset toward your hurting friend. Paul writes, “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves.” Ask the Lord to give you a posture of humility and love that puts your friend at ease and invites them to share their burdens. Be willing to share your own weaknesses and struggles so they know you are a safe person with whom they can be honest.

Recognize that you are not better than your friend simply because you are not dealing with this trial. In fact, God may have called them to a unique and painful kind of suffering as they seek to remain faithful to Christ while loving a prodigal son or daughter.

Every parent has sinned and failed in various ways. But this is not the moment to analyze your friend’s parenting. Trust the Holy Spirit to do his sanctifying work, in his timing. What your friend needs most from you right now is not an assessment of the past but compassionate companionship in the present.

Jesus reminds us, “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. . . . And a person’s enemies will be those of his own household” (Matt. 10:34–36). Jesus tells us that faithfulness to him can bring painful division, even within the closest family relationships. Parents of prodigal sons and daughters are often walking one of the hardest roads of their lives. They need compassion, kindness, and comfort.

Paul reminds us in 2 Corinthians 1:4 that God “comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction.” Be more concerned about comforting your friend than understanding the mechanics of how they got here. Resist the urge to ask, “What went wrong?” Most parents are already carrying crushing guilt and shame—much of it is false guilt. Don’t add to it.

Sadly, some parents tell us that the first questions they receive feel less like care and more like an investigation, as though the other person is trying to determine what mistakes to avoid in raising their own children. That is not comfort; it is self-protection. A hurting parent needs someone who is willing simply to enter their sorrow without trying to solve it.

Parents of LGBTQ+ Identifying Children Need Compassionate Listening

Second, this is not the time to become a corrective-action adviser. Paul writes in 1 Thessalonians 5:14, “And we urge you, brothers, admonish the idle, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with them all.” Different situations require different kinds of care. Your friend is likely fainthearted and weak under this burden. They need encouragement and help, not immediate correction.

Be the kind of friend you would want in a crisis. Listen well. Be slow to speak.

Often, hurting parents do not need advice unless they ask for it. If they do ask, offer it humbly, acknowledging that you do not have all the answers. Sometimes wisdom means taking time before responding rather than speaking too quickly.

When you do speak, choose your words carefully. Proverbs reminds us, “When words are many, transgression is not lacking, but whoever restrains his lips is prudent” (Prov. 10:19). There is wisdom in restraint.

Enter into your friend’s grief. Let them see your tears. Let them know their pain affects you because it affects you to see them suffer. Romans 12:15 tells us to “weep with those who weep.” Few commands are more fitting here. Don’t rush to fix their pain. Take time to lament with them.

Parents of LGBTQ+ Identifying Children Need Long-Term Presence

Third, if your friend has entrusted this burden to you, be willing to walk with them for the long haul.

This is rarely a short journey. It may be years of heartache, strained conversations, broken trust, and waiting on the Lord. Faithful friendship is often measured not by what we say in a single conversation but by our willingness to remain present over time.

Reach out. Ask how they are doing. Ask how their child is doing.

Too often, this kind of suffering is treated like grief after a death: people show up in the beginning, but over time the support fades. Sometimes people avoid asking because they don’t want to stir up painful emotions. Yet parents often long for someone simply to remember—to ask, to listen, and to care.

This does not mean making the issue the focus of every conversation. It does mean faithfully following through. A simple text message, phone call, or conversation after church that says, “I’ve been thinking about you. How are you doing?” can be a profound encouragement.

I remember sharing a deeply painful trial with someone in ministry whom I respected as mature and wise. After I poured out my heart through many tears, I never heard from them again about the matter. No text. No email. No phone call. Nothing.

That silence hurt more than I expected.

It eventually led me to wonder why this person was in ministry. Looking back, I hope they simply didn’t know how to respond. But their silence taught me something I’ll never forget: Hurting people rarely need perfect words. They need your faithful presence.

Don’t be that kind of fair-weather friend. Stay. Listen. Pray. Continue to walk beside your friend even when you don’t know what to say.

Parents of LGBTQ+ Identifying Children Need Regular Prayer

Finally, commit yourself to regular prayer for both your friend and their child.

Too often we tell someone, “I’ll pray for you,” but fail to follow through. Instead, be intentional. Tell your friend when you are praying for them. Let them know they came to mind that morning or that you prayed for them during your devotional time. Those small reminders become powerful encouragements to a weary heart.

For a parent carrying the weight of a prodigal child, this means more than you may realize.

Better yet, offer to meet with them regularly to pray. Whether over coffee, by phone, or before church, praying together can be life-giving for a parent who feels as though they are drowning beneath the weight of grief and uncertainty.

Pray specifically. Pray for God’s comfort, grace, wisdom, patience, and peace. Pray for endurance in the waiting. Pray that the Lord would guard their marriage, strengthen relationships with other children in the family, and protect them from despair. Pray for their child’s heart to be softened. Pray that God would place faithful believers in that child’s life who will be a sweet aroma of Christ.

Remember that “the prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working” (James 5:16). Encourage your friend not to lose heart, knowing that the Lord hears the cries of his people. Like the persistent widow, Jesus reminds us that we “ought always to pray and not lose heart” (Luke 18:1). Parents may wait years before seeing God’s purposes unfold, but our hope rests not in how quickly circumstances change, but in the faithfulness of the God who hears, who loves, and who keeps every one of his promises.

Praying for your friend—and praying with your friend—reminds them that they do not shoulder this burden alone.

Church Should Be the Safest Place for Our Deepest Sorrows

The church should be the safest place for parents to bring their deepest sorrows. These families do not need suspicion; they need shepherding. They do not need quick fixes; they need patient companions who are willing to sit with them in their grief, remind them of God’s promises, and repeatedly point them to Christ.

Burden-bearing (Gal. 6:2) often looks far less dramatic than we imagine. It is listening more than speaking. It is asking how someone is doing months or even years after everyone else has stopped asking. It is praying faithfully, loving steadfastly, and refusing to let suffering parents walk alone.

And what a comfort it is to remember that “the Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit” (Ps. 34:18). As we draw near to those who are brokenhearted, we reflect something of the compassionate heart of our Savior, who came near to us in our own need.

While this article has focused on parents of LGBTQ+ identifying children, the call to bear one another’s burdens belongs to the whole body of Christ. Every believer will eventually need someone to come alongside them in suffering, and every believer will have opportunities to become that person for someone else. The question is not whether we will encounter hurting people in the church, but whether we will be willing to draw near to them in their pain.

May Harvest USA continue to equip the church to do this well. And may our churches increasingly become places where parents of LGBTQ+-identifying children find not isolation, but gospel hope; not condemnation, but compassionate care; not easy answers, but faithful brothers and sisters who are willing to bear burdens with them until the Lord, in his perfect wisdom and timing, brings every sorrow to its glorious end.