She had thought about what this would mean for his prospects of having a family, and she had thought about the dangers of AIDS and hate crimes. She was afraid for his soul and for his future. More than anything else, Cindy was afraid for her son. Much to their chagrin, he kept insisting that he was. They'd read and reread the relevant Bible passages, scoured the internet for information, and had numerous conversations with their son, hoping for some sign that he wasn't gay after all. In the two weeks since, the loving parents had been through a wide range of emotions, wondering what they'd done wrong and what to do next. Late one night, their precious son had confessed to them that he had realized he was gay. She and her husband couldn't have been prouder. He was her only child, her pride and joy. She was the mother of a fifteen-year-old son. I encouraged her to take her time in explaining the situation. Every so often, she would gain her composure, get a few more sentences out, and then dissolve into sobs once more. The woman on the other end of the phone was in tears. A few years ago, a call came into the Christian ministry where I worked.
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