My world crumbled around me one evening when, after a long hard struggle my son eventually told my husband and I that he was gay. It did not come as a complete surprise, as for sometime he had let us know he wanted to tell us something that was obviously causing him a lot of worry. He was just eighteen. We had gone over and over what the problem could be. He had seemed troubled for many months; we prayed that we would be given wisdom to handle the situation when we knew the truth and we hoped that our feelings of foreboding would be proved groundless. Now the moment of truth was here. Although we had discussed the possibility of him being gay it still came as a shock. One thing was certain - as we listened to his struggles and saw his distress we knew that this had been unwanted and unasked for. Our hearts were overwhelmed with love for him and we tried, calmly, to convey that to him. A few minutes later it was all over, he left to go and stay the night with a friend in the next town.

The house seemed strangely silent when he had gone. I was heart-broken and devastated. Adding to my distress was the fact that his room was empty except for boxes filled with his belongings. He had thought we might turn him out. I couldn't imagine the pain he must be going through; the thought of it was almost too much to bear. I cried and cried. That night the questions and fears came thick and fast, torturing my tired brain. "Would he come back the next day as he had promised?" "Had he really forgiven us for any mistakes we may have made in the past; after all we were not perfect?" "Was it my fault? "What about Aids?" "That strange illness he had not too long ago - why didn't the doctors know what it was?" On and on the thoughts went.

He did come home the next day and a barrier had gone from between us. He had always been so easy to love but now, somehow there was a greater love between us. We talked and talked and I discovered more and more of the trial he was going through. He did not want any professional help, but just badly needed to know that we loved him and accepted him as he was.

For myself it was as though a dark cloud had gone over the sun. Where could we turn for help? A well trusted friend put her arm around my shoulders and wept with me. A letter arrived from a support group in answer to my plea; it brought comfort and the assurance of prayer backing. These things greatly helped, but we knew that many of our friends and acquaintances suffered from homophobia so in order to prevent more pain to ourselves, and our son, we needed to keep things quiet. He loved his Granddad and we usually shared everything with him, but we knew he would not understand. I found the secrecy hard to cope with. To continue to act as though "all was well" when inside I felt crushed, was hard indeed.

In our marriage my husband and I had been through many dark experiences; long term illness, bereavement, financial difficulties and others, but we had never felt the need to question God as to why. We had always been confident that He knew best. Now my anguish was intensified as I watched my husband struggle with "Why had God allowed this to happen?" Then, one Sunday morning as I arrived at church for worship, the struggle suddenly gripped me. "How could I worship God after what He had allowed?" This was my darkest moment. I hesitated, then I remembered how faithful God had been to us in the past. I could not, and dare not, turn from Him now I needed Him so much. Later, as I took the bread and the wine at the communion service I realised afresh that the dear, suffering Saviour understood all my distress and was there to meet my need, if I turned to Him.

My husband and I had always prayed regularly together, and now we began to have special times when we particularly brought the whole situation to our Heavenly Father. Very gradually our fears were calmed, and a quiet assurance, that God had everything in control, filled our hearts. Not all our questions were answered, but we were comforted by the thought that one day they would be. The words of the poet consoled us:

Not till the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly
Will GOD unroll the canvas
And explain the reason why
The dark threads are as needful
In the WEAVER'S skilful hands
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern HE has planned.

The sunshine began to break through and shine again as we trusted all to Him.

One of my favourite prayers is "Prepare me for all that you have prepared for me." As I looked back I began to see ways in which this prayer had been answered. When our son was only a boy I was so concerned, as he seemed to spend so much time alone. One day, as I was praying for him, it was as though God said, "Go and tell him how precious he is to Me." I shall always remember the look of joy that covered his face as I related those words to him.

Then, on another occasion during a very difficult period of concern over him, in prayer, I asked to be shown what was wrong and what could I do to help? Quietly it was impressed on my heart, that one day I would know, and I should leave it in His hands until that time came. God had known all the time about our Son. He was very precious to us, but even more so to God, and He cared deeply about what happened to him. We could afford to leave him in His hands...