I first realized that my parents had sinned when I was about 13 years old. The lesson topic was the law of chastity, and I suddenly thought “if my parents had been keeping the commandments, I wouldn’t be here.” My mom had always told their story in a funny way and I loved hearing about how my parents had met; they had moved in together without telling her family, and one day my grandma came to visit my mom, but my dad opened the door instead. They got married and my mom returned to church activity a few years later. I was proud of her for bringing us to church every week and serving faithfully in our ward, and I loved my dad even though he didn’t come to church with us. During the lesson I looked around at the other girls in the room, including my friend whose parents weren’t members and weren’t married, and the one who had figured out that her oldest sibling’s birthday was only five months after her parents’ wedding anniversary. Our teacher earnestly told us that keeping the law of chastity and saving sex for after a temple wedding was the only path to a happy family, and yet here we were, living in our imperfect, mostly happy families.

Church can be painful sometimes. When I feel pain or discomfort from something said at church, I sit back and think about what the problem is. Often, I’m feeling the prick of conscience that lets me know that I’m not keeping the commandments as best I can. This pain can be a positive motivator to help me change and to feel a greater resolve to become more Christ-like. In fact, this is one of the reasons why I go to church every week—to renew my covenants with God and to learn more about His teachings and His plan for me. Other times, however, pain comes from things that are said that are not in line with God’s doctrine and that are wrong. I hurt because someone has made assumptions about others or about God that are not true and bring about shame. Shame comes when we feel that what we are is wrong, not that what we are doing is wrong.

Shame is especially potent when it comes because of some circumstance that is out of our control. Not only are we wrong, but we are powerless to change it. During the last decade I have worked to fight shame I’ve felt at church, first because my husband had become inactive and then as a single parent after we divorced. To be clear, I have not ever had anyone directly shame me. Most people I know in my current ward are kind and sensitive, and we have a variety of family circumstances in our ward. However, it can be easy to get the message that because my family is not the ideal, there is something wrong with me. Sure, I made some mistakes in my marriage and did not always do my best to fix it, but ultimately the situation I and my children find myself in is beyond my ability to change at the moment. I rely on the Holy Ghost to remind me (again and again) that God loves me and is aware of my situation, and that He is not ashamed of me and my life.

My ex-husband is gay, and over the last fifteen years I have had the opportunity to get to know many other church members who are gay. All of them, no matter their level of activity or belief in the church’s teachings, have dealt with feelings of shame about their identity (if you want a long, detailed account of the struggle to reconcile these feelings with a testimony of the gospel, read this). Here in the United States, church members are working through the implications of a recent Supreme Court decision to extend marriage rights to same-sex couples. There will be a statement read in U.S. church meetings about this decision, and I know many members are concerned about fulfilling this counsel: “As members of the Church, we are responsible to teach the gospel of Jesus Christ and to illuminate the great blessings that flow from heeding God’s commandments as well as the inevitable consequences of ignoring them.” I think this is wise counsel from our leaders and that we would do well to follow it. But I also hope we will keep in mind the statement from earlier in the document that “The gospel of Jesus Christ teaches us to love and treat all people with kindness and civility—even when we disagree.”

I wish I had some good answers about how to balance the responsibility to teach the gospel of Jesus Christ while still treating all people with kindness and civility. I think this is one of the great challenges of our time, and it is not going to be resolved quickly or easily. I lived in California during 2008, when the church was supporting efforts to pass a law against same-sex marriage. My stake president asked us to refrain from discussing these efforts at church meetings on Sunday; he wanted to make sure that all would feel welcome in our building, especially at sacrament meeting, and to keep the focus of our worship on Jesus Christ. I know some did not agree with his counsel, but I found it to be healing for me and my young children and was grateful for the fact that my church meetings were a respite from the turmoil I experienced during the rest of the week. As we Latter-day Saints in the United States move forward in a world where another of our teachings is out of sync with society, let us all remember that we should have faith, not fear. I want my children to come to church to learn about faith in Christ and how they can grow up without feeling shame for loving their father, who married his partner six months ago. The family is central to our Heavenly Father’s plan, and I believe that includes my family too, no matter how imperfect we are.