Your child is not a Christian

Recently while listening to Richard Dawkins’, “The God Delusion,” I had to pause and let some of his words wash over me—they were cleansing, if you will.

I won’t quote him directly, but here’s the jist:

**There can be indoctrinated children, and there can be children of Christian parents, but there are zero Christian children.**

Obviously, a few years ago I would have wanted to battle back and proclaim that MY children were believers and students of the Holy book. I would’ve scrambled to find the flaw in his statement—- but deep in my noggin, I would’ve been arguing, not with Dawkins, but with my own indoctrination.

As much as I would’ve wanted to believe my kids WERE Christian kids, the truth was—every belief they possessed came directly from me or the Bible stories I’d allowed them to learn. Sure they knew scripture, but how did they learn it? –Me, a curriculum I’d chosen, a class I’d taken them to… Sure they knew the prayers, but how did they know who to pray to and the format of recitation? Me! These weren’t things they would’ve ever approached on their own. They were simply babies who wanted to PLAY! But my kids were my echo chambers, they were simply regurgitating by beliefs right back out at me. It’s scary to think how deeply I had sculpted their entire world view and reality. Shits terrifying, man. Wheeeew. Breathe. Even scarier is the way some folks never realize what they are doing….

Fortunately for me now, as a deconstructed exvangelical, when I read Dawkins’ words, I was in complete and total agreement. It was actually freeing to hear someone else saying what I knew from my own childhood and in raising my kids.

Every single attempt at raising Godly kids is a form of indoctrination. From reciting scripture, creeds, and prayers at young ages, to attending weekly services, to routines of the home. Every time a parent intentionally places their belief system into the mind of their child, they are indoctrinating that child. Every time a child declares they are saved or that they’ve had a God experience, it is simply a replication of what they’ve witnessed from adults around them or is a fictitious response to hormones released in emotional situations. Again, a fabrication of that child’s reality set up by someone else.

Children are born religion free. Again, when a baby is born, their brain has zero knowledge of any religion. Yet, they are divine. They come to us with an awe-struck curiosity for the mystical experiences of nature. They are bright eyed and eager to explore, they worship in the form of wonder. Wouldn’t it be grand to approach guiding them, with that same joy of learning that they implore. When THEY ask about God, faith, sins, the devil, as parents we show excitement and present them with timelines of all the major world religions, allowing them to see for themselves the bigger picture. There is NO indoctrination in that method. And, there is no right answer, therefore no pressure to conform out of fear.

I remember the fear that being a Christian places within parents. The “their blood is on your hands,” approach to training up children. Hell, I pulled my kids from school so I COULD INDOCTRINATE them to think like me.

I remember feeling afraid when they “sinned.” I remember crying out to God that he would guard their hearts. I spent literal nights awake trying to envision a way to best teach them so they’d know God’s Love….

But now I see, if you look at your child as a fallen being to be saved, you’ve lost the chance at letting the magic of life teach them. Their own Life is their best teacher. You are cutting them off from their own flow when you’ve set the default state of being as a religious one. They have very little chance at growing beyond that default setting, and for many Christians that is their hope.

How sad. But that’s what you get when generation after generation sits in the church pew and never does the work of thinking. You get uneducated worldviews, partnered with indoctrinated beliefs, sculpted into little robotic beings, passing off their ideals as the ONLY right way, all the way into their adulthood, and this then repeats itself with their children. And it’s ALL misinformation, but they live from default because it’s safe and requires no conscious effort to learn new ways and new information.  It’s frankly, an irresponsible way to live.

For me and for my children, I did the work of reprogramming my default settings. They will not have to deconstruct, they will not have to “go astray” or “leave the fold.” Together, we are free to let Wonder, Curiosity, and Life be our teachers. Please join me in ending the brain-washing of our youth-they deserve better. They deserve to be the joyful explorers that they were literally born being. Let us, as adults, give our children the space they need to be here, free from your default settings.

Thanks for reading! XO

When a 3 year old gets “make-up”

She decides we all needed to use it! Her sweet little hand💖


Proud of her work…
She is a diva who refuses smiles for my camera


Brother must have a make-over too…

And Dad!
Look at that grin🤣



adoration….


Worked so hard she passed out at dinner…

Voice in my Head

The voice inside my head is so cruel.  

She doesn’t match the smile she masquerades behind.

She is nothing like the voice who encourages those around her. She hates me. 

She loves hating me in the meanest ways.

She has steered my life so that my home became the prison where she does her work. She has eliminated the chances of me having value to others. Exactly her desire, it makes her dominant.

Her taunts and chatter are exhausting and while my heart aches to know she isn’t speaking my silent truth, she’s become louder than that of my intuition.

Unworthy, unloveable, broken at your core, “there’s no fixing you, you’d need twenty grand to ever come close to being who you were before them.” She scowls and winces at her reflection. 

The voice inside does not rest. She berates even in sleep. “You are lazy, there is so much for you to do, get up off your ass, and take care of this now.” 

She hates everything that could bring me joy and she sneers disgustingly if I simply want to read a book. I don’t know how to please her, she grows louder every day.

Every day, my heart breaks a little but it’s happening slowly. She is nothing I can’t handle with fakes smiles, small talk, and the completion of one mundane task after another.

I cope with her hatred of me in the silence and I never introduce her to anyone. They know nothing of the torture I take daily and that is as it should be.

“Mommy, I love you,” small hands that I created in love, reach up for me. She flees, and she’s banished… she is not welcome in their presence and she scurries outside, until I’m alone again. 

I wonder if others have the constant war raging behind their kind eyes, too? She says they don’t. That this is just broken me doing broken things. 

She rebukes on. And she does good work. Some days she silences me  into a state of  quiet defeat. “SpaghettiO’s for dinner, folks.” 

My son rounds the corner and smiles an endless love grin up at me. For a moment, I am someone’s everything. That single moment, my weapon, to battle her another day.

They warned us in Bible-class that from the heart the mouth speaks. They told us to be careful because the influences you allow, become the way you think.

…..His voice became my voice…

….HIS VOICE BECAME MY VOICE…..

SHE———never had a choice, because his voice became MY voice.


She doesn’t stand a chance.

Dry Land, a poem


 I am just a woman, standing in my gown 

asking to be enough for this night

I want to feel beautiful, not plain

Do you remember 16, firm flat tight

I’m softened now, worn even

Battered and stretched and faded

Not by time, but mothering

Brutal, harsh, barren this land I walk along

But because  I love, I tread on

Day in and day out

Night in and night out

Tread on, I must

I sleep without dreams, eyes 1/2 open

They’ll need me

They do need me

I am their God

They want to worship now

But why 3 in the morning 

I am just a woman, standing in my gown

asking to be enough for this night

Written by: Stacy Johnson

1/22/19

2018
2019