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Herbert, I want to tell you a story about my son, Jordan. But if you don’t have time to read the whole story, know this: Jordan’s compassion, integrity, and hope inspire me every day to live out my highest values. I could not be prouder to support him as he’s running to represent Mainers in the U.S. House because we deserve a leader with courage who will stand up for the most vulnerable. So please, Herbert, I’m asking you as a father, a pastor, and an American who wants to see better values in Washington: Will you please chip in $15 or anything you can to send my son Jordan to Congress? >>
One evening before dinner, Jordan sat my wife and me down and shared words that changed our family forever:
“I’ve come out. I’m gay.”
I was surprised. He told us he had carried this truth since junior high, keeping it hidden even from himself for years.
That evening, we listened as he told us about the fear and isolation he had lived with.
For him, coming out was not only a moment of liberation, but also of trust. He trusted us enough to share the truth about himself, not knowing how we might respond.
I am a pastor. My father was a pastor too. I grew up steeped in conservative Christianity and was taught to view marriage solely as a covenant between a man and a woman.
While I had never been one to thunder from the pulpit against LGBTQ people, I also had not stood up in their defense.
The church tradition I was raised in did not accept same-sex relationships, and I had never thought to question it.
Years earlier, when Jordan was just a boy, I had even been turned down for a pastoral role in New Hampshire after I admitted I was not comfortable performing a same-sex wedding.
That was where I stood then. That was all I knew. My faith was still evolving, slowly and quietly.
So why did I embrace Jordan so immediately? The answer is that it wasn’t in spite of my faith — it was because of it.
The same Bible verses that some people use to condemn relationships like Jordan’s also hold story after story about God’s surprising, unconditional, and boundary-breaking love — a love that refuses to be boxed in by human limits.
When I embraced Jordan that day, it didn’t feel like abandoning my faith. It felt like living it out in its truest form.
A few years later, I had the honor of officiating Jordan’s wedding to his husband, Jake. I had led many weddings over the years, watching couples in love bind themselves to each other for life.
But standing there with my own son and the man he loved, as I spoke those words that bound them together, I felt a kind of awe.
I had been raised in a conservative household, never imagining I’d one day be blessing the marriage of my own son and his husband.
That moment wasn’t just about their love — it was also about change.
Jordan’s courage had opened my eyes and reshaped me in ways I hadn’t expected. And now, many years later, Jordan is now running for the U.S. Congress in Maine.
I am so proud of the man, the husband, and the father he has become — not only because he has lived his truth with courage, but because he carries those same values into public life.
My journey has shown me that faith is not about holding fast to fear or rigid traditions, but about leaning into love, compassion, and the willingness to grow.
Today, I stand beside Jordan not only as his father but as someone whose own life has been transformed by love — and I believe he will carry those same values with him to Congress. Herbert, I’m asking you humbly one more time: Will you contribute just $15 to elect my son Jordan so he can inspire change in others the way he inspired change in me? Right now, he’s neck and neck with his opponent, Paul LePage, but he’s got a fundraising gap to fill. Your donation could put him over the edge to win >>
With love and gratitude,
Rev. David J. Wood
Jordan’s proud dad
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