I Don’t Like Christian Culture


That’s me in my church-shirt. I loved it because it was purple not because it defined my reliegios beliefs and therefor who I was.

This last week I’ve had 3 people ask if I heard if so-and-so was coming to town. Each time I answered “no” and they got excited and responded that she is performing at my (small) church. Even after hearing the question for the third time my first reaction was that this was a person I was somehow supposed to be connected to, it is a small town after all, not a somewhat-known entertainer.

Here’s the thing. I don’t like Christian music. And if you get into it, I’m not a big fan of Christian culture in general.

My car presets are on NPR, alternative and rap stations. My Spotify and Apple playlists are filled with hip hop and rainy day Decembrists music. If I feel like I need to talk to God I do so in silence, not through mediocre (just my opinion) praise songs. Usually the first time I hear a contemporary christian song is in church, when the band plays it. I am not opposed to God, Jesus or scripture in music, I actually love when I hear pieces of if in contemporary music; Chance the Rapper and Sufjan Stevens are two of my favorites. The point there is just because I don’t like christian music doesn’t mean I don’t like music by christians nor does it have any real statements on my faith.

When you walk into my house, there is no visible sign of religion. No Jesus poster (Mormons know), no crucifix (Catholics know), no scripture on my walls (every woman from 25-65 knows). There is no visible sign of our beliefs, and there doesn’t need to be. The fact that we are welcoming in our home, that we show love and kindness to everyone is bigger than any vinyl lettering you slap on your wall.

Just because I don’t wear a cross on my neck or have a letter board of this weeks scripture on my walls doesn’t make my beliefs any weaker. It’s just not me. And if it’s not you either that’s great! If it is you that’s great too! (Just don’t do it to show off, because it doesn’t mean anything to anyone else but you.)

I love my God, I love my church and I love my community. Listening to Post Malone over Hillsong doesn’t change that at all.

That’s all. Nothing else to say.

Mom’s Growing Up

When I turned 30 I had people sharing that their 30’s are or were the best time. They all had the same reasonings: you just care about the little things less and you understand who you are more. It doesn’t happen right away, maybe it happens over the entire 10 year span, I don’ t know.

A couple of weeks ago I turned 32. Although, according to Willem, because there was no cake, wrapped presents and no one sang “happy birthday” so with no supporting evidence, it didn’t happen. That’s okay too. Not because I care too much about staying young (though I am considering Botox for that damn permanent frown line) but because 31 ended up pretty fantastic. Looking back, it may have been one of my better years.

In my 31st year I:

Bought a mom car. It is a Toyota but I resisted the minivan. If there is such a thing as the  anti-bucket list, this is on mine.

Said good-bye to the baby-years in our family. It was a happy good-bye.

Had a happy 6 hour day date with my husband for the first time in 7 years.

Made a commitment to myself to live life for the fun that can be found. This means letting go of the dishes in the sink to take my kids climbing, but still doing the dishes eventually.

Attempted to learn about homeowners claims, construction companies and what depreciation value means.

Worked my first full motorcycle rally. Amazingly tiring and fun.

Saw motorcycle races. Insanely cool.

Allowed myself to enjoy other flavors of La Croix besides coconut. It’s sill #1 though.

Went on my first permanent, daily medication. Okay, this one kind of sucked and I’m awful at doing it but it sucks worse when I don’t.

Had my first endoscopy. This is on the list because I know I’ll have more.

Went whitewater rafting.

Flipped in whitewater rafting. Such a fun experience for me, luckily I listened to the instructions in the beginning. Feet up!

Went to my first dispensary. It was intimidating.

Went on my second permanent, daily medication. This is a sign that I truly am getting older.

Landed a dream job.

Went snowboarding for the first time in 11 years.

Went skiing for the first time in 20 years!! And it was hard.


Helped build a deck.

Put a hot tub on that deck. This one is a dream fully realized.

Weaned my last baby. Such a sad and happy thing to do. Twenty-two months is long enough little dude.

Explored, remodeled, went camping, got outside,

Made a bunch of adult like decisions.

That was my 31. I’m okay to stay in it a little longer but 32 is looking like it might be a little bit of a ride so I think I can embrace that. I’m always up for an adventure.

In 32 I’ll try to have more photos of myself. Although, my first thought is to document the lines on my face as they are now and how the might change. (cough*botoxbetweentheyes)