A Note to the Gay Latter-day Saint

A Note to the Gay Latter-day Saint

This book was written for you. Not the abstract, theoretical version of you that appears in policy manuals and General Conference addresses. The real you. The you who sits in sacrament meeting and feels the Spirit and wonders, at the same time, whether you belong there. The you who has prayed until the words ran out and then kept praying in silence. The you who loves Jesus Christ and also loves honestly, completely, the way your heart was made to love.

If you are a gay Latter-day Saint man, you carry a weight that most of your fellow Saints will never fully understand. You have been told, in countless ways both explicit and subtle, that who you are is a problem to be solved. That your orientation is a test, a trial, a consequence of the Fall. That if you are faithful enough, obedient enough, silent enough, the deepest part of your identity will somehow be corrected—either in this life or the next.

This book rejects that premise. Not because it rejects the gospel of Jesus Christ—it does not—but because the gospel of Jesus Christ, properly understood, rejects it first. The Christ of the Book of Mormon invites all to come unto Him, and He denies none that come. All are alike unto God. Mercy overpowers justice. Charity never fails. These are not decorative scriptures. They are the theological foundation upon which this book is built.

The structure of this book is adapted from the twelve-step framework used in recovery programs within the Church, but it has been reimagined entirely. You are not recovering from an addiction. You are recovering from shame. You are recovering from decades of institutional messaging that taught you to fear yourself. You are recovering from the violence of silence—the kind of silence that sits in the pews on Sunday and smiles while something inside slowly dies. The twelve steps, as reconceived here, are not steps away from who you are. They are steps toward who you have always been: a whole, beloved child of God whose capacity to love is a gift, not a curse.

Each chapter includes scripture, reflection, journal prompts, and affirmations. You can work through them alone, with a trusted friend, with a therapist, or in a group of fellow travelers who understand. There is no right pace. There is no final exam. There is only the invitation that has been extended since the beginning: Come unto me.

This book also serves as a companion to the Come Unto Me: Not Broken, Not Fallen, Not Forsaken facilitated sessions program—a twelve-session group healing program designed for use by therapists, support groups, and faith communities. Each chapter incorporates the academic research, theological reflection, and therapeutic frameworks from the corresponding session. The table below shows how they align:

If you are reading this book on your own, each chapter stands alone. If you are reading it as part of a facilitated group, the chapters provide the self-study component that complements the group experience. Either way, this book is yours.

This book is not an official publication of the Church. It does not claim to speak for the institution. But it does claim to speak to a truth that the institution has not yet fully articulated: that you can be gay and Latter-day Saint, that Christ made you the way you are, and that your faith and your identity are not at war. They are companions on the same road.

You are not alone. You have never been alone. And if you will turn the page and begin, you will find that the Savior has been waiting for you all along—not at the end of the road, but walking beside you, every step of the way.