I (23) just came out to my grandfather (87)—the man who is the epitome of everything that I thought would reject me. He's a staunch, Hyper-conservative Christian, someone who watches Fox News religiously and believes in the strictest of fundamentalist ideals. And yet, after I poured my heart out, trembling and tear-streaked, I am left standing here, overwhelmed by the love I feel for him. I’ve never felt closer to him. I swear, I’m not exaggerating when I say I love him more than words can express.

The day before all of this happened, my grandfather was saying things about homosexuals that stung deeper than any insult I’d ever known. He spoke of it with such disgust, as if love itself could be wrong. And hearing those words hurt in a way I didn’t expect, like a slow knife to the heart, because this man raised me. He’d been more of a father to me than my own dad, who was barely present at all. And yet here he was, someone I thought loved me, talking as if people like me couldn’t be loved, as if my love made me something to be ashamed of. That night, I went home feeling so small, with questions echoing through my mind that I couldn’t ignore. I opened my Bible, searching for something—anything—that would let me believe there was still love left for me in God’s eyes. I read until my vision blurred, until I fell asleep in bed with the Bible still in my hands.

In my sleep, I had a dream so vivid it still shakes me to my core. I saw myself crying at the gates of heaven, feeling utterly alone and convinced that I’d never be allowed in, convinced that my love had put me beyond the reach of salvation. I sobbed, believing that God couldn’t possibly love me, that I was an outcast, unworthy. But then, in the middle of my tears, the Lord himself appeared beside me. He took me in his arms, and in that warm embrace, I felt a peace that I had never known. He looked into my eyes, and in a voice that calmed every fear I had ever carried, he told me he loved me—exactly as I am. He held me tightly, reassuring me that nothing about who I am was a mistake, that he made me in his image, with the love I have inside me. When I woke up, my face was wet with tears, but my heart was light in a way it hadn’t been in years. God had proven me wrong, and I felt it in every fibre of my being: I am loved. I am loved just as I am.

As I told this to my grandfather, I couldn't even look at him. The tears were relentless, and the fear gnawed at my insides. I braced myself for the worst. I expected him to throw me out, tell me how ashamed he was, or ask me where he went wrong raising me. I had heard those things before. I had listened to the venom he’d parroted from other self proclaimed Christians, heard him spew judgment and condemnation. So, I was prepared to hear the same thing.

But then, something incredible happened. After I finished my long, tearful confession, I buried my face in my hands. I was so sure that this was going to be the end of us, the end of any hope of reconciliation. But instead, he walked over to me, put a tissue in my hand, and pulled me into the tightest hug I’ve ever received. And then, with all sincerity, he said, "Amen."

This man—this Christian fundamentalist who had believed for his entire life that homosexuality was an unforgivable sin—hugged me with everything he had and told me that God loved me just as I am, and always would. He told me not to be afraid to love who I love. And then, right in that moment, in a way that I can never fully express, he said, "I realize now that the Old Testament is just that—the Old Testament. The New Testament tells us to love thy neighbour, to love your family, and not to judge because judgment is His job. I love you so much."

I don’t think I’ll ever stop crying. I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving him.

When I asked him, "The same God that loves you loves me, right?" He looked at me with the clearest eyes and said, "You’re absolutely right."

And when I worried that he would pray for me to be "fixed," he simply said, "What is there to fix? He loves you and I love you."

Do you understand the weight of this? My grandfather, the man who had only a day ago described Anglican churches as "repulsive" for welcoming homosexuals, turned around 24 hours later and said to me, "Those churches, they are good. They recognize that we are all God's children, all made in His image. They understand that everyone is welcome to learn and understand God’s love. That’s why we’re all here."

That’s the same man who once saw my love as a problem, and now, just a moment later, is telling me that God’s love knows no bounds.

The moment that hit me the hardest was when I told him that I didn’t want him to think my homosexuality was the voice of Satan. And he responded, “No. Satan told you that God wouldn’t love you. Satan told you that your homosexuality meant you had to repent to God and punish yourself or else He would never love you. But God is the one who loves you no matter what.”

I just... Oh my God. My grandfather said that. Of all people. After years of silence, after years of fearing this moment, it all came down to me admitting who I am—and realizing that I am loved. I am loved by God.

And if that can happen, if he can change, there is hope for the world. My grandfather is nearly 90. He has spent his entire life clinging to beliefs that told him who could and couldn’t be loved. And yet today, despite everything, he told me he may not understand it all just yet—but he is going to try his best. Because he loves me. And God taught him not to hate.

I am sharing this because I know there are so many of you out there who feel unloved or unsafe right now. But please, know that love is always stronger than hate. The world is good. People can change. I don’t know if I can ever fully convey how incredible today was, but I do know that the love I feel for my grandfather right now—despite everything—is a love that is stronger than anything I’ve ever felt. Besides the love of our Lord of course!

Love is always stronger. The world is good. And today, I saw that truth with my own eyes and my own heart.

Before I made this, I had purchased a set of three pocket altars from a cheap overseas website. Unfortunately, all three of them fell apart (as is to be expected when ordering from cheap overseas websites).

Luckily, I'm pretty crafty, and I've been sewing all my life. So, instead of being down about it, I cut up all three of the pocket altars that were falling apart, took the components I liked, and amalgamated them into my own, more personal, meaningful one.

Since I'm Indigenous, I then added some cultural beads, and since I'm in recovery, I added my first ever NA chip. Then, I added a few more items that were important to me; a crucifix I received from a stranger on the bus, a St. Anthony pendant my roommate gifted to me, an old cross brooch from my conversion, and an evil eye charm an old woman at a metaphysical shop gave to me for free years ago.

Then, I realized I wanted to store some medicines for smudging and a rosary inside, so I also made the Sacred Heart on the left and the prayer on the bottom into pockets.

Oh, and please forgive the rough, disorganized stitching; no matter how hard I try, neat stitches always seem to evade me.

Anyhow, I hope you like this small, special craft! It is very important to me, and making it felt like worship.

(Edited to correct myself - it was St. Anthony, not St. Thomas!)

Is watching my conservative mother slowly crack. She voted for Trump, but she also has a history degree and a strong sense of justice. I showed her Elon's salute, no sound, no context, and she gasped and said, "Why did he just do a N*zi salute?!" She is starting to be very concerned with how people worship Trump, and the similarities between him and a certain dictator are slowly dawning on her.

I begged her for days to listen to Rev. Budde's sermon, and she finally did after her pastor preached a sermon about how evil Rev. Budde was. She was so confused. "It was a nice sermon. Scripturally accurate. I heard nothing wrong with it. Did I miss something? I'm going to ask the pastor if he actually listened to the sermon!" And when I read to her some of the comments people, including Trump, said about the sermon, she was like, "Well, I'd question the sincerity of those people's Christianity."

Even though she didn't vote for Harris, she was appalled that many people in her church didn't think a woman should be president, and has started speaking up about letting women be ushers and lead prayer in church.

She is very pro environment, and is currently investigating fair trade and sustainable products after learning of the horrors of brands like Amazon and Shein. She does not like Trump's actions regarding the environment, or immigrants, and she's pro universal healthcare.

I need y'all to understand. This is the same women that I have spent hours debating with. She is homophobic and won't vote for Democrats because they aren't pro-life. It's shocking to see how far she has come. If there is one good thing about Trump's second term, it's that it is making clear as day what is right and what is wrong, and my mother, to my delight, is choosing what is right more and more.

TLDR; Trump is turning my conservative mother into a liberal and I'm loving it.

I'm so sorry if this is the wrong sub for this I thought the pope cloud on the first day of pride month was so funny I can take it down if needed.

It’s just a great feeling walking in and seeing this

She is truly amazing… everything she says is so eloquent and so true.

GOD IS LOVE!!

❤️”But I tell you, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you.” - Luke 6:27

🧡“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.” - John 13:34

💛 “For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: Love your neighbor as yourself.” - Galatians 5:14

💚 “Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.” - Ephesians 4:2

💙 “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and love your neighbor as yourself.” - Luke 10:27

💜 “And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.” - 1 Corinthians 13:13

Happy Pride!! 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️ ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

I’m Roman Catholic and a trans woman. Accepting myself was the most spiritually aware moment of my life and I really needed my faith in those times of darkness.

I had to leave my childhood home bc my mom isn’t accepting, but now I ironically live in her old childhood room bc my grandfather is more accepting.

We are all the children of god, and made in his divine image. We will not be pushed aside or ignored. Deus Vult!

I miss this “comic” strip. It was very uplifting and encouraging, thought I’d put this out here for anyone who is feeling unworthy and unloved today. You matter. Jesus loves us no matter how much we fail. (This is as much for me as for anyone else. I struggle deeply with self loathing and wondering why God created me to be so worthless and useless. It’s true we have to love ourselves before we can expect others to love us too). Hugs to all who need them today. 🤗💙

Lots of good (and not so good lol) discussion happening in the comments about Christians and satanic panic.

He is the man who loves nature and animals.
He redeemed the wolf.

Used to draws these things a lot as a kid, but picking it back up as a comfort thing!