To the Christian Momma Whose Gay/Transgender Child Died in the Pulse Night Club

To the Christian momma whose gay/transgender child died in the Pulse night club:

As I write, I pray, and I weep; and I beg God to please, let the words that come… come from Him, and not me, because I am not smart enough and wise enough to understand all of this.

But He is. He knows what happened. And He knows how to comfort your heart. And He knows what to say to you to offer a bit of hope, a bit of encouragement, a sliver of understanding…

I weep with you, precious momma, because that could have been our 24 year old… my husband’s oldest son… the one we have committed to the Lord… our precious one who has no idea how loved he is… how covered in prayer he is… how the Lord follows him and covers him everywhere he goes, as he wanders, seeking…

Do you remember the nights you held your baby? Rocked your baby? Prayed for your baby? Gave him or her to Jesus?

I have to believe. I have to believe that everything I have ever been raised to believe is true.

I have to believe that, when you gave your baby to God and asked Him to take care of that baby for the rest of his or her life, He said ok and kept that promise.

I have to believe that, when Scripture says, “He is able to keep that which I have committed to Him,” that includes my children. That includes your children. We have given our children to Him. He can keep them. On into eternity.

I have to believe that God is there no matter where our children are. Psalm 139 says, “Where can I go from Your Spirit? Where can I flee from Your presence? If I ascend to Heaven, You are there; If I make my bed in hell, You are there.” Do you feel like your child ran from God? God followed him. He followed her.

Momma listen… please hear me… in those moments… as your child hung between life and death, God met your baby. I have to believe… if He would follow your baby to hell, then He was there on that nightclub floor, too. Doing exactly what He promised to do – to keep that which you had committed to Him.

Momma… precious, sweet momma… it was not your job anymore to make sure your baby gets to God. It was God’s job. That baby grew up, and you handed that baby to Him. When you did, it became His job to take care of him. To take care of her. And He gladly accepted the responsibility. And He loves that baby oh so much more than you ever did.

I remember when I was 19, and my life-long best friend was gunned down in cold blood by a crazy older man whose advances she had refused. Incidentally, in Orlando… For years, she had struggled with her faith, not knowing what to believe, wondering if God really loved her, asking me if He was even real, and if He could ever forgive her for the things she had done… never quite resolving those questions.

And then she was gone. Snuffed out at 20 years of age. And I mourned her loss in a way I had never mourned anyone, because I feared she had gone into eternity not knowing God, and I would never see her again.

And I will never forget what my dad said to me…. “God loved her more than you did. And you and I will never know what transpires between God and a person’s soul in those moments as they pass from here into eternity. Don’t lose hope. She was searching. And God wanted her.”

Momma, rest in the love of your gracious Heavenly Father. The One Who formed your baby in the womb. Trust that He is able to keep everything we commit to Him… including our children – even when it seems they have walked away. Trust that, somewhere, in those secret places where the Holy Spirit draws, just between them and their God, their heart was given to Him and they cried out for help, even while they still continued to struggle with their sins, just as we struggle with ours.

Do you belong to God? Remember the promise: “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and you will be saved, both you and your household.” I have heard it said many times that God doesn’t have any grandchildren, but hear me: Acts 16:31 is crystal clear – The promise is to you and yours.

I don’t know you. I wish I did. I wish I was with you so that I could hold you and weep with you. Instead, I weep here, at my computer, and I pray for you, that you would be surrounded by the peace that passes all understanding, as you rest in the knowledge that everything that has ever been yours belonged to Him, too. I love you, sweet momma. So very much. And so does our precious Daddy God. Let Him comfort your heart today.

Find more hope and encouragement at:

Kelly Balarie and Friends at Purposeful Faith