My Queer Daughter & Sweet Grandboy
Love is Love: A Family Update
My parents instilled in me two values: that family is defined by love, not blood, and that being family means being loved without condition. I am the youngest child of a blended family. The only son. My older sisters have a different biological father. But we were never allowed to use phrases like “half-sister” or “stepchild.” Nothing would upset my parents more than using those terms. They were my sisters and the daughters of my parents, full stop.
These values of love and family extended beyond my immediate household. Holidays at my grandparents’ homes often included temporary partners, new spouses, ex-spouses, unrelated children, and people our family had taken in during hard times. We did not always know who might show up. There was never a question, though, about their belonging. We shared our food, gifts, and company. While those relationships were not all the same and changed over time in varying degrees, the values of family and unconditional love remained unchanged. Today, our family bears the imprint of how our matriarchs extended love to all they called family: those who had stumbled, those who were hurting, the distant, and the complicated. Family is family.
I thank God for these guiding values of family and love. They not only prepared me to raise a family of my own, but they also prepared me for the relational twists and turns that would become part of our family’s story as our children grew older. Inevitably, my daughters started adding to our little family: friends, boyfriends, and a few strangers who just tagged along. My wife and I never thought twice about welcoming them and including them in the family. If they mattered to our daughters, they mattered to us. Some of those friends are still like family to us. Others have moved on, and our lives went different directions. Still, love is love.
More than a decade ago, our oldest daughter, Bianca, shared with us that she did not feel “straight” and felt attraction to both males and females. Ok! Wild card! I didn’t see it coming, but I did not feel any impulse to panic. I knew my girl’s heart. I loved and accepted her no matter what. I believed that as she grew and matured, she would understand that part of herself better than I ever could. I never pushed back or coerced her to change her mind. I never shamed her for it. I never felt compelled to.
Because, despite what the church taught, or what the Bible said, my life had already been so positively shaped by queer friends and family members that my feelings on the matter had devolved into a sort of non-issue with my Christian faith. Then, on top of that, years prior, God had spoken very clearly to me on the matter of homosexuality and Christian faith during an intense spiritual experience and I was at complete peace with it. While other Christians stay up in arms about the idea of “gay Christians” or the sinfulness of homosexuality, I have sat mostly on the sidelines, confused. Being that in my experience, there were not only gay Christians with whom my spirit bore witness to their faith, but I found them to follow the actual teachings of Jesus better than most Christians I knew, including myself.
So it’s never felt like a soapbox I need to stand on, or a flag I need to wave. For the readers clutching their pearls, I admit I don’t have all the answers, and I do not feel like I need to. I know what the Bible says. I know what the church teaches. I know what God has spoken to me. I know that love is an unstoppable force, that God is love, and that we are all more than our sexuality. I believe it in my bones, and thus have chosen to love and accept my daughter as I do others: without judgment of her sexuality, spirituality, or personhood as she walks out her journey of being the woman God created her to be.
After coming out to us, for years, it didn’t really change anything about our lives. Bianca dated boys, her life was heteronormative, and there was zero pressure on me to “deal” with the complicating factors natural to having a queer child as a Christian father and Ordained Minister in a non-affirming church. All of that has changed now, and we need to talk about it. I can’t be an honest writer, friend, or minister without sharing this important piece of my story with you.
Last year, Bianca began a relationship with a young woman named Halie. Not just with Halie, but also with Halie’s son, Elijah. That is why I am writing this piece and sharing it with you. Because they mattered to Bianca, they now matter to us. Unconditional love stopped being theoretical when real people with real names and real stories entered our lives. It moved from ideas and convictions to flesh-and-blood presence in our living room, laughing over shared meals, and lives woven into ours.
You see, it was never a question for me or my wife on whether we would accept Halie and Elijah or not. It never felt weird or shameful. Sure, I had concerns about it, as I do with every relationship my daughters form. The main anxiety I had was how my Christian friends and family might respond; not for the sake of my own feelings, but for theirs. I know I can’t shield them from what people think or say. But I can’t help but try. That is why I have chosen not to share this part of my story with you up until now. But that isn’t right to my family, or to our newest family members Halie and Elijah. They are part of my life now.
So let me introduce you to Bianca, Halie, and my grandboy Elijah. No they aren’t married, and no it isn’t blood. But love is love, and we choose them. Elijah is my chosen grandchild, and that is the only time you will see me use the qualifier “chosen.” Because in our family there are no step, no adopted, no half, and no chosen members. You are family not because of blood or law, but because of love.
Elijah is the most awesome child you will ever know. He is full of energy that seems to last from sun up to sun down. He loves chocolate Pop-Tarts with chocolate milk, dino chicken nuggets and mac-and-cheese. He likes to watch Bluey and football with me. We play MOTU and Castle Grayskull. He is a good little swimmer. He calls everyone “bro” and has never met a stranger. He likes stacking blocks, playing with small action figures, books, bubbles, skeletons, and robots. He loves toys that squish or spin. Birthdays and Halloween are his favorites. We play wrestling and he helps me cook. He is pure love and life and innocence. I am as proud as a Papa can be of him, Bianca, and Halie.
I know I cannot shield them from every opinion, criticism or ignorance. But hear me clearly: these are my people! I will protect them fiercely, speak up for them boldly, and refuse to let them be dehumanized. If you come with cruelty or contempt, even with the best intentions, do not expect me to remain silent. I am still very much Papa Bear.
So when you see the photos and hear the names, now you know. This is us. This is our family. If you struggle with that, I understand you may need space to wrestle, but know this: your discomfort will never outweigh our love, our belonging, or our commitment to one another. In this family, love is love. Full stop. And that will never change.



Daniel (in the lions den) Rushing. Bianca should be proud of her dad. Praying for the whole family because there will be those who will never understand what it means to love.
Love this